Date: Thu, 6 Sep 2012 06:52:51 +0200
From: Amy Redek <adultreading@gmail.com>
Subject: The Cleaner. Part Five.

      This story is for persons of eighteen years or over.  All comments,
good or bad, are welcome and all will be answered.

Part Five.

   The house was a semi-detached modern home in a good area, and owned by
Stephanie Beecham. A single, career woman in her early thirties, who Angela
believed was a corporate lawyer. Well she earned a good salary judging by
the contents of the house. A strange mixture of period and modern pieces
that went very well together. Also, the place was always immaculate.

   Why, Angela wondered, was she wanted for two hours when there wasn't
that much to do. But ten pounds on the kitchen table every week was not to
be sniffed at. She did the usual tricks of moving the odd cameo slightly
askew, changing the towels etc., giving the front porch a good clean so
that any nosy neighbour could see that Ms. Beecham had a cleaner that did a
thorough job.

   With that done, she made herself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen
table. She mused to herself about Stephanie. She'd only seen her twice in
the past year, not that she was complaining. It was nice not to have the
client hanging round your neck while you tried to clean round them.

   Angela knew she lived alone, the contents of the wardrobe confirmed
this. Most of the clothing was very severe city type of clothes. Dark
suits, white blouses etc. Only a couple of dresses, cut very mannish in
style, Angela thought, cursing and rubbing her leg where she had caught it
whilst in the bedroom.

   What did I catch my leg on, she thought? I've never done that before
here. Then she suddenly realised what it was that had snagged her
leg. There was a key in one of the drawers of the dressing table that had
always been locked. This is what had caught her leg and now her curiosity
was aroused. She went back up to the bedroom and unlocked the drawer that
the key was in.

   `Well. That's one for the books,' she said when the contents of the
drawer were revealed. There was an amazing collection of dildo's and
vibrators laid out in the drawer. Before touching them, she memorised their
positions before she picked any of them up. The first one she picked up was
a dildo made of a thick rubber and was at least twelve inches long. She
couldn't circle it with her thumb and forefinger it was so thick. At the
base were a huge set of balls, and underneath was a screw cap for the
batteries.

   `Christ! She wouldn't want a man after having this up inside her,'
Angela said to herself as she twisted the cap and the thing started to
heavily pulse in her hand. She stopped the vibrator and putting it back,
picked up another one. This was bent up like a banana. Same size, but with
slack loose balls at the end of it. She unscrewed the cap at the base and
it came off to reveal that the balls were hollow. She thought for a moment,
and then squeezed the thick head of the rubber cock and saw that the eye of
the penis opened. Now she knew what the hollow balls were for. They would
be filled up with hot or warm water, so that when they were squeezed, the
water would shoot out like sperm.

   She put this back into its place and picked up a double dildo. That is
two male phalli, with balls, that could be used by two women together,
facing each other, crutch to crutch, or doggie fashion. Each having it
inserted and then banging bums together, could simulate being fucked by a
male.

   Angela picked up the big one with straps attached to it. This was for
the female to strap on when acting the role of a man. It was a quite solid
construction of a circumcised prick.

   `I've just got to try this one,' Angela said to herself. Quickly taking
off her top, breasts bouncing free as they usually did, and dropping her
skirt and panties on the floor. She worked out the arrangement of the
straps and clipped the belt on and brought the other two straps up between
her thighs and round the tops of her legs, and clipped them to the belt.

   She then stood up straight with this huge cock stuck out in front of her
and she laughed and turned round to see herself in the mirror. The heavy
cock bouncing from her mound made her laugh even more at the sight of her
heavy breasts jumping up and down in time with this big prick jutting out
from her belly.

   `I must tell Carol about this. Maybe we could use something like this in
one of her films. Maybe I could even get to fuck Peter with it,' and then
she had a thought that doubled her up, `maybe he might even want to suck on
it.' She had to sit down as she was laughing so much. Even this made her
laugh even more as she looked down over her tits to see this huge cock
jutting out from between her legs.

   She eventually took it off and carefully replaced it in the drawer, and
relocked it, leaving the key where it was. She got dressed and made her way
downstairs, thinking that it takes all kinds to make the world go
round. Knowing that she would never know, still didn't stop her from
wondering who the partner might be who used the equipment in that
drawer. But, you never know. Mark and David were an example.

   With her time up, coffee things washed up and put away, Angela left the
house and went off to her next job.

                                                *

   It was with a jaunty step that she went on to the Perini household. She
liked going there as it was a house that was always full of people. Some
going, some coming. It was always in a constant state of flux. They were
Italians, and very voluble in their own language to all guests and
visitors.

   Tomas, the husband, played football for a local club and Maria, his
wife, looked after their three noisy children. The house, a large eight
bedroom affair that was always in a state of bedlam. Guests, friends,
relatives and whatever, were always coming and going. Maria coped with the
help of a nanny and some distant relatives' daughter.

   Angela's contribution on Friday, was to clean the large changing room
cum pool area, and the odd guest room that the niece hadn't got round to.

   The pool, albeit, a small one, was built onto the house along with the
changing room by Tomas. This was because the house backed on to the extreme
end of a recreational field of a small college. By giving a small donation
to the college, he was allowed, with a few team mates, to put in some
practice on their playing field. This they usually did early Friday
mornings, so some of the players came and stayed over on Thursday nights,
hence the extra rooms being used.

   Angela arrived earlier than she usually did this Friday morning. The
kitchen was occupied by Maria and two of her friends, having coffee and
biscuits. Maria warned her that some of the boys' were still about and to
be careful.  Angela said that was okay and she would look out for them as
she went through the house and into the changing room.

   What a mess it was in with kit strewn about where they had simply thrown
it after stripping off. Mud on the tiles from the playing field, empty
drink cans and general litter. Clothes that were hanging on pegs she
ignored, but any other clothing and towels, she picked up and dumped them
in the laundry basket. With the floor cleared, she pulled the hose out from
the reel and turned the water on and hosed down the tiles, washing the mud
towards the drain in the corner. Then a stiff broom finished the job. It
didn't take long and was soon done.

   She then went through to the pool. This was similar to what you see in
any football or rugby club, except that it was very much larger, at least
twenty foot square, and heated. The water today looked rather murky from
the mud that had been carried into it and there were still two of the boys
in the steaming water.

   `Hi there Angel, come in. The water's fine,' one of them called out.

   `Not bloody likely. It looks filthy,' she retorted.

   `Not as filthy as his mind,' the other said, `he just wants to see your
tits again.' This was because of last Christmas time when all the boys were
in the pool and dared her to show her breasts as she passed through. A
bottle of champagne if you do, was shouted out. Those kind of dares, she
could handle. As usual, she wasn't wearing a bra, so she lifted her T shirt
and gave them a good eyeful. Great cheers rang out as did some lewd
suggestions as she dropped her shirt back down, grinning at them.

   `You saw them at Christmas,' she said, `be satisfied with that.' One of
the boys' climbed out of the pool, his white bum very prominent against the
rest of his tanned body. He stood with his back to her as he rubbed his
hair with a towel. The other one swam over to where she was standing and
said something to her.

   `Pardon?' Angela asked, moving closer to hear what he was
saying. Distracted by the one in the water talking softly, she didn't
notice the other one take a small run and jump. Too late she saw the
movement of his body flying through the air and was just straightening up
as he hit the water.

   Well you can imagine the amount of water that a thirteen stone man can
displace when "bombing" the water. Angela caught the lot and was soaked
from head to toe and could only stand there spluttering as the water
cascaded off of her.

   `Whey hey, hey,' the both shouted as the water poured off her as though
she was the Niagara Falls. Only then did she realise what they were after
as she cleared the water from her face. She was the main, if only,
contender for the wet T shirt competition and she was the winner. The shirt
clung to her like a second skin, her breasts perfectly outlined with the
nipples prominently showing through the material.

   `You bastards,' she howled as she turned away, `I'll get my own back one
day.'

   Hoots of laughter followed her out into the changing room, and she
wasn't going to take her wet clothes off in there. That, she thought, is
what they would expect her to do, but she wasn't going to get caught by
them in there, starkers. She knew where she could get some dry clothes, and
that would be in one of the guest rooms. She picked up a small towel and
was drying her face as she entered one of bedrooms that had an en suite
bathroom, making straight for this. Inside the bathroom, she stripped off
her wet things and got a big bath towel and, drying her hair, entered the
bedroom.

   `What a lovely sight,' a voice said.

   Shock held her rigid for a moment. Head and face covered in the towel,
the rest of her body fully naked in front of that voice. She quickly
lowered the towel to cover herself, about to give the voice a piece of her
mind. But again she was still shocked enough to cause her to drop the towel
completely.

   There were two of them bollock naked on the bed, and one had an enormous
erection lying there on his stomach.

   `What's the matter Angel?' said Ray as he grasped the erection of Frank,
holding it upright. `Haven't you seen one of these before? I'm sure you
have.'

   `I...I...' Angela stammered, `I thought...I didn't know you both were
gay.'

   `Not gay Angel. Bi-sexual,' drawled Frank with his accent, `we swing
both ways, and can both still appreciate the fine body of a woman such as
stands before us.' Angela still stood there, naked, mesmerised by Ray's
hand as it moved up and down Frank's cock. The head peeking out of the
helmet as the flesh moved down. Frank's hand reached out and tousled Ray's
hair as he spoke. `Show Angel what we do with the problem I've got,' as he
pulled Ray's head down towards his erection.

   Angela started to bend down for her towel, when Frank shouted for her to
stop and stand still. It was said in such a way that it held Angela for a
moment and then she came upright again, obviously rooted to the spot and
watched as Ray opened his mouth and took in Frank's cock.

   Suddenly her pussy was feeling wet. She could feel the fluid start to
seep out of her and move down her inner thigh. Her knees started to tremble
as the thought flashed through her mind, that she should be the one going
down on the cock. Frank was watching her get excited as she watched Ray's
head going up and down on his shaft. Ray also was getting excited, because
she could see his cock start to thicken and get bigger between his thighs
as he sucked on Frank.

   Angela's tits were quivering and the nipples were standing out like
organ stops, throbbing inside their stretched skin. She had to move her
thighs together to try to ease the burning sensation she was feeling up
there.

   Frank eased Ray's head back off his cock that flipped back and now lay
twitching on his stomach, the head glistening with saliva. Ray's mouth
pouting, also wet and his lips very red.

   `Come and join us,' Frank said, holding out his hand and shifting his
body to make space between them. His eyes holding that of Angela's, like
the way between a cobra and a mongoose. That's what Angela was thinking,
wondering which of them was which. Even afterwards, she couldn't understand
why she took his hand and got onto the bed. One part of her mind was
shouting out no, and the other saying yes. But whatever way her mind wanted
to go, her body went another. She then lay down between the two men as they
propped themselves up onto an elbow and looked down at her.

   The slow burn was now a raging fire within her belly as they looked at
her. Those two steps to the bed seemed to have rubbed the lips of her sex
raw, a piece of meat that could only be soothed by the rubbing of one of
the two shafts being eased up and down between her legs. She gave out a
groan, closed her eyes and grasped both of them in her hands, holding the
two throbbing muscles and flesh, and felt her breasts being covered and
kneaded by their hands. Another hand trailed down her stomach and the
fingers entered her wetness to touch her button. She shook at the touch and
had an orgasm, covering the fingers with the sticky juice, and her hands
went like pistons on the erections in her hands.

   `Slow down Angel,' a voice whispered in her ear, `slow down. There's no
rush. Now roll over to Ray.' She opened her eyes and looked up into Frank's
as he kissed her. She closed them slowly as she let his tongue make friends
with hers.

   `Now roll over,' Frank whispered again, `and give Ray some head as I
come in from behind.'

   With a blank mind, Angela again obeyed, and rolled over in between Ray's
legs. He had moved up the bed so that she was now directly over his
quivering erection lying on his stomach.

   She held it again in her hand and took it into her mouth and sucked on
the solid piece of flesh. Her hand moved it up and down as she ran her
teeth lightly over the head. She could feel the cool air around her bum as
Frank's cock brushed her thigh as he moved in between her legs behind her.

   His hands grasped her hips as the head of his cock nudged her wet
sex. Her juice bathed the head and it easily slipped inside, filling her,
scratching the itch as his balls touched her thighs. She could feel the
heat and the throbbing of his pulse as he enlarged her insides, filling her
completely.

   She slobbered over Ray's cock as Frank started to move in and out of her
as she clenched her vaginal muscles against his movement. The cock in her
mouth was getting hotter and even harder as he started to move under
her. His hips moving up to meet her mouth that was chewing and sucking on
that big organ.

   She was in bliss as she exploded with another orgasm, soothing the heat
inside her, as Frank continued his fucking, holding her tight to him as he
jerked his hips, coming deep inside her. Ray also came, filling her mouth
with sperm, as he came in short bursts. Angela held it all till he'd
finished, and then spat it out onto the sheets. Fuck the mess it made, she
thought, I can always change the sheets later.

   She was glad that she had taken her mouth off of Ray, because Frank
suddenly collapsed on her back, forcing her down onto Ray underneath. She'd
have bitten his cock off if it had still been in her mouth. As they fell,
Frank slipped out of her making her gasp as the cool air swept up close to
her heat.

   All three lay there panting like stranded fish, and Angela, in a rosy
glow, didn't want to move; but there was that nagging thought that there
were other people in the house and she didn't want to be caught as she did
these two alongside each other.

   So to the groans of Frank and Ray, she got up off the bed and went into
the bathroom. She squatted on the toilet and thought, as she peed, that
what a godsend was the pill. She dreaded to think how many children she
would have by now if she didn't take one every day.

   Her hair was still wet from the pool soaking, and there was the smell of
sex on her body, as well as still being able to taste it. So she showered
and felt really good after it. She dried herself and for some strange
reason, made sure that the towel was really secure as she tucked it round
her body before going into the bedroom to find the clothes that he she
originally had gone in there for. She selected some from the cupboard and
took them back into the bathroom to get dressed rather than do it in front
of the two men. A psychiatrist would probably come up with many
explanations, and then probably be wrong.

   Fully dressed and back in control of herself, she re-entered the bedroom
where the men were still naked, and watching her.

   `Thank you Angel,' said Frank.

   `Yeh. Thanks,' mumbled Ray. Angela didn't trust herself to say anything,
so with her wet clothes in her hands, quickly left the room. She went to
the laundry room, where she hung them up, knowing that they would still be
there next week for her to collect. She smiled to herself as she did so,
thinking of how she had enjoyed the little fucking of a few minutes ago.

   She mused on it while she cleaned the pool area, the other two had
already left, and soon the work was done and she collected her money and
went off on home.

                                                         *

   It's not usual for cleaners to work on Saturday's. Philippa used to tear
her hair trying to get the girls to clean at the weekend. She would try of
course, because it would mean that she could take on more clients and that
would be more revenue for the agency. Nearly all the girls refused except
for Angela, but only for one client, "Madame Bovary". That was the stage
name of one Henry Whipple, born in London in the early thirties.

   He was quite young when he was aware that he was different from other
boys. His effeminate manner was soon noticed and so he suffered the usual
torments from his peers. He quite often regaled Angela with stories from
his past.

   Like how he was first seduced at the age of twelve by the history
teacher. The class, with two teachers as supervisors, went out on a
historical field trip. Henry and this teacher got separated from the others
and got lost. A thick fog had descended on the outing and they took a wrong
turning, losing touch with the rest of the class.

   After about two hours of wandering about, they came across a small hut
where the teacher said they should wait till the fog lifted. It didn't
clear and it was soon night and getting quite cold so they made a bed in
the straw and the teacher told him to cuddle up to him for warmth. Some old
sacks were used for covering as Henry snuggled up into the teacher's
lap. As they lay like this, the arms holding him in an embrace, he could
feel the hardness of the man, pressing against his bum.

   He perversely wiggled his bum to cause the man some discomfort, and was
not surprised when a hand fumbled with the flies of his shorts and undid
them. Henry also had an erection by now and he let the hand play with his
cock, gently rubbing it up and down. He made no objection, and even lifted
himself up so that the teacher could pull his shorts right down and over
his shoes. The teacher then opened his own fly and pulled out his throbbing
cock, hard and firm as Henry's was, who sat down with it firmly between his
legs, just underneath his own cock so that they both stuck out
together. The teacher then carried on wanking Henry until he came in short
bursts out into the straw. Henry caught some in his hand and smeared it
onto the teacher's cock and lifting himself, wiped the rest of the sperm to
his own backside and waited for the teacher to move.

   So really it was Henry who seduced the teacher. With the head of his
cock lubricated with sperm, he lifted Henry's leg and inserted his cock
into the arse of Henry. They both shuddered as the hard erect cock slid in
to its full length, and the teacher started to fuck him.

   This was it for Henry as this hard flesh moved in and out of him, he
realised that this was he wanted from life. As much cock as he could
get. With that throbbing and pulsating piece of flesh reaming him, he
gurgled with pleasure and groaned with joy as the teacher came inside him.

   They were found next morning, properly dressed, and the teacher was
admonished for getting lost. Henry spent the last few years at school,
sucking the cocks of as many boys and masters that he could, as well as
being fucked by all and sundry.

   He left school at fifteen and joined the Merchant Navy in the catering
department and found he was in heaven.

   Now in his sixties, he `camped' it up in cabarets, clubs and the like,
billed as a clairvoyant/fortune teller with some magic thrown in. The
`magic' being somewhat along the lines of the great Tommy Cooper.

   Angela liked being at his place, not just for the cleaning money, but
more for his stories. He also encouraged her to try on his vast array of
costumes that he owned for his shows, and then tell her the stories behind
each one. They were many and varied, but Angela's time on a Saturday was
limited, so it was with reluctance that she had to leave to do the shopping
for the weekend.

                                                         *

   So that is the basic week for a cleaner, well not all cleaners. For
some, it is a work of drudgery, for others?, insights as to how other
people live, some even get a vicarious thrill from it. But as with all
agencies, the cleaners and clients come and go, Philippa still runs hers
with that imperious air.

   James and Sybil Mortimer never married, but carried on living in their
father's house that they inherited after he died, and carried on as though
they were husband and wife.

   Mrs Morrison died, and her unscrupulous nephew sold the contents of the
house without a thought to the love and care that had been lavished on the
furniture.

   David Salmon went on to make a fortune with the band he started, but
fucked it up with drugs and all that. Stephen Finch, his mate at the time
just disappeared from the scene.

   Carol Dench and Peter Marks went into the soft porn film market after
their session with Angela. Peter as producer and marketing. Carol as
scriptwriter and director. They made a small fortune.

   Mark Turner died last year. After David left him, he had wallowed in
despair and drifted into unprotected sex with anybody he could pick up. He
finally picked up and died of aids.

   David never did get into the cabinet. The P.M. had already known of his
homosexuality and felt he couldn't take the chance of giving him high
office exposure. He's still a back bencher but would have done better had
he stayed with David.

   Philippa finally dumped Fred Pritchard as a client. She couldn't get any
cleaners to stay there very long. As much as they cleaned the place, it was
still a pigsty the next time they went. So with much regret etc, went the
letter terminating their agreement.

   Clive Adams has made his fortune in the London stock markets and moved
out of the area.

   Stephanie Beecham is still with the agency, though it's still a mystery
as to with whom she shares her `toys'.

   The Perinis' have moved on and another footballer has bought the house,
but as yet, Philippa hasn't been able to get her claws into him yet.

   "Madame Bovary", like many an old trouper, died on stage of a heart
attack. There were only two mourners, Angela and the author.

   Mike Jones, Angela's ex, was kicked out just after the writing of this
book. He is now a guest of the government on behalf of Her Majesty's
pleasure, for the same reason he was evicted by Angela. Drug peddling.

   Epsom has grown up into a fine slender woman, and is now a successful
model.

   Angela has given up cleaning and after her experiences in doing this
work and for that with Carol and Peter Dench, went into the making of these
type of films and is now an International star. The demand for her films
has been overwhelming, and it is with great pride that this author
announces the Angela has agreed for her autobiography to be written and
will be entitled "A Star is Porn".


                                                   *    *    *

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