The Building Cleaner Knocked on My Door

The first homeowners’ association meeting I attended in that building was exactly what I feared: reproaches, repeated complaints, and people talking over one another about matters they did not even properly understand. I had not been living there long, in a second-floor apartment with no elevator, and the only thing I knew for certain was that the entrance had been a fucking mess ever since I moved in. Dust in the corners, marked-up steps, the meter room in disarray, and a constant strange smell in the entryway.

That was why, when the vote finally came to change the cleaning company, it seemed to me the only sensible decision of the entire meeting. I did not care about the rest. I had bought that apartment to be left in peace, alone, without depending on landlords or anyone else’s rules beyond the unavoidable ones imposed by the building association. I worked from home, led a fairly simple life, and did not expect anything interesting to happen to me among the staircases, buckets, and doormats of an ordinary block of flats.

I was wrong.

Less than a month later, I saw someone in the cleaning closet, crouching down and inspecting shelves and boxes. The first thing that caught my attention was her tight ass beneath a pair of thin gray trousers that showed rather more than they should. She was not doing anything indecent, just working, but the position and that dark thong hinted at beneath the fabric kept me frozen there a second too long.

“Hello?” I finally said.

The woman straightened with a start and turned toward me. She was a brunette with strong, beautiful features, curly hair pulled into a long ponytail, small glasses, and a lively smile that completely transformed her face. The uniform did not do her justice, but even so it could not hide her powerful body, with large tits showing beneath her white shirt.

“Sorry,” she said, letting out a short laugh. “You caught me concentrating.”

“No, sorry. I never see anyone in here, so you surprised me.”

“Well, that’s over now. From here on out, this building is going to notice.”

I held out my hand and shook hers. Her palm was warm, firm, and soft.

“I’m Damián, from 2A. I’m almost always home, so if you need anything, let me know.”

“Nora,” she replied. “Thanks. But I’d better get on with this, or I’ll never finish.”

I left, though before turning the corner I took another look at that ass, which drew far too much attention for someone in a work uniform.

As the days passed, I realized she had not been lying. The entrance began to look immaculate, and she became part of the building’s scenery: carrying buckets upstairs, going down the steps, humming songs, swaying her hips without the slightest inhibition while she swept or mopped. I crossed paths with her with absurd frequency, and every time it became harder to hide what I was feeling. Sometimes, after seeing her bent over cleaning the landing or backing upstairs with the cart, I would lock myself in my apartment with a hard-on and end up jerking off while thinking about her.

It was a very specific fantasy: Nora sweaty and tired, her uniform open, sitting in my kitchen drinking something cold while I watched her, unsure whether to make a move. That image kept me company several times until I came. What I did not know then was that reality would easily surpass it.

***

That afternoon, the heat was unbearable. The air outside was scorching, and even the entrance, which was usually cool, felt like a warm box without a breath of air. I went in and saw her heading toward the cleaning closet with the broom over her shoulder and exhaustion on her face. Her little jacket was open, her tank top clung to her body with sweat, and her neck gleamed.

“Good afternoon, Damián,” she said, panting.

“Good afternoon. You’re melting.”

“You have no idea. I hate this heat. I’ve only got this left and then I’m done, but I feel like I’m about to drop.”

“Wait here a minute.”

I ran up the stairs, took a bottle of ice-cold water from the refrigerator, and came back down with it. When I gave it to her, she rewarded me with a sincere smile, the kind that is not for politeness but pure relief.

“Drink slowly,” I told her. “It’s very cold.”

She unscrewed the cap and drank with her eyes closed. I watched her swallow, her neck moving, panting after the first sip. The black shirt clung to her tits and outlined her nipples with brutal clarity. She was not wearing a bra. I realized it instantly, and from the way she glanced at me while continuing to drink, I knew she had also realized that I had noticed.

“I’d invite you to a beer,” I said, lowering my eyes to disguise my erection, “but you’re working.”

“I’d kill for a cold one,” she replied with a tired laugh. “But it would look bad if I stood around here halfway through my shift as if this were a bar.”

“I have little bottles. That sounds more elegant.”

She burst out laughing. A thread of water escaped down her chin, crossed her neck, and disappeared between her tits. I followed the droplet without being able to stop myself.

“Go on, get out of here,” she said, amused. “You’re distracting me.”

I went upstairs with my body on fire. I changed, left my shirt lying around, put on a tank top, and sat down to finish some work on my laptop. But I could not concentrate properly. Every few minutes I thought of the water sliding down her cleavage, her outlined nipples, that tone of voice half exhaustion, half teasing.

After a while I heard movement outside my door. I looked through the peephole and saw her crouching down, straightening the doormat. The position sent a direct jolt to my crotch. I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, went back to my desk, and forced myself to finish what I had pending. It took almost an hour, but in the end I sent everything off and closed the laptop.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

I did not check who it was. I opened the door without thinking.

Nora stood in front of me with her hands on her waist, her face still flushed from the heat, and her little jacket completely open.

“Well,” she said, “where’s that beer?”

The surprise left me speechless for a second.

“Come in. Of course, come in.”

She entered without shyness, left a small backpack in the doorway, and followed me into the kitchen. The blinds were nearly closed to keep out the sun. I opened the refrigerator, took out two little bottles, and popped them open.

“A glass?” I asked.

“No way. This way it stays cold.”

I handed her the beer. She took a long drink and shrugged off her jacket with two tugs.

“Do you mind if I take this off? I’m soaked.”

“Not at all. I’d do the same.”

She took it off and left it over the back of a chair. Underneath, she wore only that tank top clinging to a sweaty body. The damp patches beneath her breasts and at her sides were clearly visible. I stared at her for far too long, completely mesmerized. She lowered the bottle, held my gaze, and smiled like someone catching another person with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Don’t hold back.”

I turned red at once.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so blatant.”

“You’ve been looking at me for days. On the stairs, in the entrance, when I pass with the bucket. And I don’t mind.”

“I didn’t mean for it to be so obvious.”

“Well, it is. Very much.”

There was a brief, heavy silence. I was still holding the bottle. She set hers on the table, calmly removed her glasses, and then, looking at me, took hold of the hem of her shirt.

“Let’s make things clear,” she said.

She lifted the fabric over her head and left it on the table.

My mouth went dry. She had large, round, heavy but firm tits, dark areolas, and hard nipples from the contrast between the heat and the cold beer. Her skin gleamed with sweat. They were not seductive, idealized fantasy tits; they were better, more real, more present, more obscene because they were so close.

She followed my eyes to her breasts and then down to the bulge I could no longer hide beneath my shorts.

“I suppose you can see them better now.”

“Yes,” I admitted, my voice rougher than usual. “Much better.”

“I’d tell you that you can touch them, but I’ve just come from work all sweaty.”

“I don’t mind.”

“That’s what I was hoping.”

I moved closer slowly. The first time I placed my hand on her right tit, I felt skin that was damp and hot. It filled my palm nicely. I kneaded it slowly, then moved to the other, feeling the rough texture of her areola and the hardened nipple beneath my thumb. Nora closed her eyes and opened her mouth slightly, letting out a sigh that made me even harder.

I used both hands. I massaged, squeezed, brushed her nipples with my thumbs and then with my fingertips, enjoying the way her skin broke out in gooseflesh and her breathing changed. When I leaned in to kiss them, she stopped me by placing a hand on my chest.

“Hey, no,” she said. “If you want to keep going, we both get naked. I’m not going to stand here showing everything while you stay dressed.”

I took off my tank top immediately. She let it fall to the floor beside hers and stroked my chest with delicious slowness.

“I’ve wanted to touch you since the first day,” she confessed.

“You could have said something.”

“During working hours, I try to maintain a professional image.”

“And now you’re off.”

“Now I’m off.”

I leaned in again, and this time I buried my face between her tits. I kissed them, licked them, catching one nipple between my lips. They tasted salty, of clean sweat and hot skin. Her hand went straight to my crotch and rubbed me through my shorts. I groaned against her breast. She smiled.

“Does anyone else live here?” she asked. “A woman, a girlfriend, surprise visitors?”

“No. I’m alone.”

“Then show me where we’re going to fuck, because I’m getting too horny in your kitchen.”

The words hit me like a blow. I nodded awkwardly and led her down the hall. She slipped off her clogs halfway there with a gesture of relief and continued barefoot. I walked ahead, half naked, my cock unavoidably outlined. I showed her the living room, the room where I worked, the bathroom, everything through sheer stupid inertia, until we reached the bedroom.

Nora leaned against the doorframe and looked inside. I stroked her back, first on the outside, then lower toward her waist. She tilted her head to one side, closed her eyes, and let me do it. I slipped my hand inside her trousers and grabbed her ass. It was hard, round, and tight. I slid my fingers beneath her panties and boldly opened her cheeks. Her mouth found mine at that moment, and she kissed me hungrily.

While we kissed, I brought my fingers to the center of her ass and stroked the edge of her anus. Nora moaned into my mouth, short but clear. She pulled back slightly to breathe.

“Keep going,” she murmured.

I positioned myself behind her. I kissed her shoulders, her nape, her back. I moved down her spine with my tongue, leaving wet trails across her sweaty skin. When I was crouched down, I pulled her trousers and panties down to her ankles in one motion.

She moved slightly away from the doorframe to help me. Then I saw everything.

She had a magnificent ass, firm and open before my face. Lower down, between her thighs, her pussy was completely shaved and wet, her lips shining. But what my body had been craving since I touched her ass was something else. I spread her cheeks farther and ran my tongue from bottom to top, slowly, tracing a wet line that made her shudder.

“Fuck…” she breathed.

I repeated the stroke. Then another. I licked her ass shamelessly, pushing my tongue between her cheeks, tasting her skin, playing with the tip at the edge of her anus. Nora writhed against the doorframe, rubbing her tits against the wood and pushing her ass backward to give me more room.

“Don’t fucking stop… I love that,” she panted.

I spread her cheeks wider with my hands and buried my tongue in her hole, moving in and out quickly, wetly, insistently. Her breathing became ragged. She moaned louder, a mixture of pleasure and surprise. I continued, burying my face there, licking her ass eagerly and without hurry, listening to every sound she made. Her pussy was dripping; I could smell it and see it trembling between her thighs while I focused on her ass.

“I thought you’d go for my pussy first,” she said, almost voiceless. “But don’t stop. Fuck, don’t stop. I want you to fuck my ass.”

I took off her trousers and panties completely. She went into the room, sat on the edge of the bed to finish removing her socks, and let me watch her sitting there with her legs spread. Her pussy was soaked. I pulled down my trousers and boxers in one motion. My cock sprang out hard and tense, glistening at the tip.

Nora looked up, smiled, and grabbed my thigh.

“Come here.”

She leaned forward and took me into her mouth without ceremony. She sucked me hungrily, deeply and quickly, using her tongue and hand at the same time. I heard her slobbering over me and felt me sliding between her lips again and again. She was not sucking me to show off; she did it as though she truly needed me at that moment. She coated my cock in saliva, looking up at me now and then with the confident expression of a woman who knew exactly what she caused.

Suddenly she pulled away, let a string of saliva fall to the tip, and turned around on the bed. She got on her stomach, knees at the edge and ass in the air, offering herself without a trace of shame.

“Come on,” she said. “Fuck my ass. Hard. You’ve wanted it since you saw me bent over in the cleaning closet.”

“I didn’t know you were such a slut.”

She turned her head and gave me a brazen smile.

“If I like something, I say so. Now put that cock in me.”

I got behind her, holding my dick with one hand and opening one cheek with the other. The tip slid across her wet pussy and then rose to her anus, still moist from my tongue and her arousal. I pushed slowly. It went in more easily than I expected, tight but receptive. Nora let out a long, deep moan and buried her face in the pillow.

I remained still for a few seconds with half my cock inside, feeling her ass squeeze me, pulsing around me. Then I pushed a little farther, all the way in. Her legs trembled.

“Fuck… yes… like that…” she murmured.

I began to move slowly, pulling almost all the way out and then carefully going back in. Every thrust sounded wet. I gripped her hips and established a steady rhythm, enjoying the firmness of that ass swallowing me whole. She moved her pelvis backward to take me more deeply.

“More,” she asked after a while. “You can give me more now.”

I increased the force. The impact of my hips against her buttocks echoed through the room. Her pussy dripped onto the sheet while I fucked her ass, and the sight excited me even more. I slipped one hand between her legs and found her swollen clitoris. I began rubbing it in time with my thrusts.

Nora screamed, no longer hiding anything.

“Yes… like that, you bastard… like that… don’t stop.”

I pulled her ponytail to lift her face from the pillow and began fucking her harder. I was no longer being careful. Her ass had accepted me, and I drilled into her eagerly, pulling my cock almost all the way out before plunging it back in. She moaned, cursed, and begged for more between gasps, her voice broken by pleasure.

“Tell me if you like it,” I said in her ear without stopping my thrusts.

“I love it. I love feeling it like this. Wreck my ass.”

I slapped one cheek with my palm, then the other. Her skin reddened immediately. I grabbed her hips again and kept pumping. My balls struck her wet pussy with every thrust. She touched herself while I fucked her, and the sight brought me to the edge at once.

I felt her body stiffen, her ass suddenly closing tight around my cock.

“I’m coming,” she warned, almost shouting. “Fuck, I’m coming…”

She came like that, with my cock buried to the hilt in her ass and her hand working between her legs. The orgasm shook her whole body. I took advantage of the contraction to thrust a couple more times, brutally, and came inside her with a grunt, feeling myself release hot inside her ass while she continued to tremble.

I stayed bent over her back for a few seconds, breathing hard. Then I slowly pulled out. My cock emerged half-soft and shining. Nora turned over and fell open on the bed. I went to kiss her properly on the mouth for the first time, slowly, our breathing still disordered. Her lips were soft, and her tongue met mine with a mixture of tenderness and lust that unsettled me more than everything that had come before.

***

I went to the kitchen for two more beers. When I returned to the bedroom, Nora was lying on her back with one leg bent and her fingers between her thighs. She was slowly stroking her pussy, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, as if she had suddenly remembered that she still had unfinished business with her own body.

My cock reacted within seconds.

“Will you give me mine?” she asked without stopping her touch.

I handed her the bottle. She drank nearly half of it in one go and left it on the nightstand. Then she looked at her wet hand and at me.

“You left my ass satisfied, but my pussy is still asking for trouble.”

“That’s easy to fix.”

“Then come here. And this time, put that mouth to work.”

I lay down beside her. For a moment we were silent, drinking, sweaty and naked with the blinds lowered and the heat beating outside as if the world were still the same. Inside the room, nothing existed but her, her swollen pussy, and my erection coming back to life.

Nora set down her beer, sat up, and gently pushed me downward.

“Lower your head a little.”

I obeyed. She straddled my face and offered me her pussy without holding back. Up close I saw her open, shining lips and hard clitoris, and below them the shadow of her ass, still reddened from being fucked. I gripped her thighs and went for her. I licked her from bottom to top, opening her with my tongue, sucking her clitoris, slipping the tip inside before moving back up. Nora dropped her weight onto me and let out a hoarse moan.

At the same time, she leaned down and took my cock into her mouth again. I felt her throat take me while my tongue worked her pussy hungrily. The sixty-nine was dirty, wet, and intense. I ate her with my whole face buried between her legs, alternating long licks with direct suction on her clitoris. She sucked me hard, drawing involuntary sounds from me, using her hand at the base whenever she could not fit any more.

We both panted and moved, seeking more friction. Sometimes she squeezed my face with her thighs when I sucked her clitoris hard. Sometimes I grabbed her ass to pull her closer and also catch the smell of her anus just behind her pussy. It was a brutal mixture of saliva, sweat, and muffled moans against each other’s skin.

After a while she pulled away from my cock, rose slightly, and looked down at me with her mouth shining.

“Now inside,” she said.

She positioned herself over my dick and lowered herself slowly, very slowly, letting it enter her pussy inch by inch. We both exhaled at the same time. She was soaked and hot, tight in a way that differed from her ass, livelier and more slippery. When she had taken me all the way in, she placed her hands on my chest and began moving in circles.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” I told her, gripping her hips.

“And you go in so well, you bastard.”

She began with a slow rocking motion, letting the tip rub against her inside again and again. Then she increased the pace. She bounced on me, her tits jumping in front of my face, and I could not resist grabbing and squeezing them, sucking one nipple while she continued riding me. She moaned without stopping, louder and louder, looking at me as if she were using me for exactly what she had come looking for.

I helped her by thrusting from below. My hands moved from her tits to her ass, from her hips to her waist. Sometimes I slipped my thumb between her cheeks and brushed her freshly fucked anus, which made her shudder and move more violently.

“Yes, like that… don’t stop…” she repeated. “I want to come again.”

She bent down to kiss me. Our tongues collided while she continued moving up and down on my cock. The mattress creaked, the bed struck the wall, and the room smelled of sex and cold beer. She was above me, sweaty, in command, enjoying herself with a freedom that drove me crazy.

I guided her hand to her clitoris and left it there. She understood immediately. She began rubbing herself while riding me. It took very little for her to break apart again. Her pussy contracted hard around my cock, and the orgasm stole her breath. She remained seated all the way down for a moment, trembling, then continued moving in short jolts, milking me.

I was already at my limit.

“Nora, I’m coming.”

She rose abruptly, pulled me out of her pussy with a wet sound, and crouched over my cock before I could protest. She swallowed it as far as she could and began jerking off the rest quickly. The sight of her open mouth, her tits hanging in front of me, and saliva running down her chin was too much. I came hard inside her mouth. She did not pull away. She kept sucking until she drew out the last drop, swallowed slowly, and then licked the tip and shaft, collecting what remained.

“That’s better,” she said at last with a satisfied smile.

She fell beside me and embraced me. Kissing her then felt different: she still smelled of sex and tasted of my cum and beer, but there was something almost intimate in the way her body fit against mine. We stayed like that for a while, naked and sweaty, without speaking.

Finally she looked at the time and frowned.

“Shit. It got really late.”

“Are you in a hurry?”

“I’m having dinner with my boyfriend. And before that I have to go home, shower, and put on a decent-person face.”

The word pricked me for a second, though I had no right to anything.

“You never told me you had a boyfriend.”

“You never asked.”

I laughed at the brutal honesty of her answer.

“I suppose I didn’t.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, getting out of bed. “This doesn’t change the fact that you’ll clean less because you’re looking at my ass on the stairs.”

“Nor that I’m going to look at it less.”

“We’ll see about that.”

She dressed unhurriedly, gradually restoring the sight of the uniform over the body I had just had spread open on my bed. First her panties, then her trousers, then her shirt and little jacket. I followed her naked to the entrance. Before leaving, she grabbed the back of my neck, kissed me deeply, and bit my lower lip.

“Next time,” she whispered, “don’t make me wait for the beer.”

She opened the door and stepped into the landing as if nothing had happened, as if she were simply the woman who cleaned the building at the end of a sweltering day. I remained in the doorway, naked, with the taste of her mouth still on my tongue and the smell of her pussy and ass clinging to my hands, trying to take in the fact that a fantasy I had used for so many wanks had just fallen short of reality.

Ever since, whenever I hear the scrape of a broom or the squeak of the bucket on the stairs, I find it hard not to remember exactly how she moaned the first time I put my tongue in her ass, and how she came back to my door just to collect that overdue beer.