The Mature Woman Who Paid Me to Obey

I've been doing home repairs for years. Nothing glamorous: pipes, shutoff valves, short circuits, burned-out outlets, jammed blinds. I work for a maintenance company and, once a month, I'm assigned Saturday duty, the shift when almost nothing ever happens and you spend the day hoping the phone won't ring.

I thought that Saturday would be the same. I was alone at the duty office, drinking reheated coffee and checking old service calls on my phone, when around noon a message came in from a client. She said she had a water leak in the bathroom and needed someone to come as soon as possible. I replied, she sent me the address, and the moment I saw it, I knew it wasn't an ordinary house.

The house was in a private development on the outskirts, one of those neighborhoods where everything looks quiet, clean, and expensive. I loaded my case with parts, tools, and a replacement trap just in case, then set off in the van thinking it would be a quick job. I couldn't have imagined what that visit would end up becoming.

I'm a divorced man, well into my forties, with nothing special about me beyond making a living with my hands. Neither very muscular nor particularly handsome, though I don't consider myself bad-looking either. I've had my affairs, of course, but always within the ordinary range. What happened that day opened a door inside me I didn't even know existed.

When I arrived, a housekeeper opened the door. She wasn't old; she was clearly an adult, in her thirties, brunette, with tanned skin, straight black hair, and sharp eyes that seemed to examine everything. She wore simple clothes, but moved with a confidence that caught my attention.

—Come in. The lady is upstairs —she said.

I followed her up a wide marble staircase. The house was enormous, decorated with a cold, expensive taste: sculptures, abstract paintings, thick rugs, the smell of polished wood. She led me to a master bathroom the size of a small studio apartment. As soon as I opened the cabinet beneath the sink, I saw the problem: the trap had given way and was leaking through a joint that had already rotted.

—The part needs replacing —I said—. I have one right here. If the lady authorizes it, it'll be ready in twenty minutes.

—Do it —she replied—. She's been informed.

She left me alone. I knelt in front of the cabinet, shut off the water, put a bucket underneath, and began taking it apart with my usual routine. I was concentrating when I heard heels approaching slowly across the bathroom floor.

When I turned my head, I saw her.

She was a mature woman, unmistakably an adult, with a powerful presence. Dark, curly hair, large glasses, full lips, a generous body that was elegant even in expensive casual clothes. She wasn't a delicate beauty. She was the kind of woman who filled a room and seemed used to giving orders without raising her voice.

—So you're the technician —she said.

—Yes, ma'am. I've found the problem. It'll be fixed quickly.

She didn't answer right away. She stood watching me bent beneath the sink, my arm wedged between the pipes, and the pause made me nervous. Then she calmly closed the bathroom door. I thought she wanted to check something or ask me a question, but instead she walked over to the toilet, pulled down her underwear, and sat down without the slightest hurry.

I froze.

I heard the stream hit the water and kept pretending to work, my face burning. I didn't know where to look. I had the part in my hand, but my mind had completely wandered. She gave a low laugh, as if my discomfort amused her.

—What's wrong? —she asked—. Have you never seen a woman do this?

—Not like this... I mean... not while I'm working.

—Look at me.

She didn't raise her voice, but it sounded like an order. I lifted my head. She held my gaze while slowly wiping herself, making no attempt to hide. I saw the dark hair between her legs, her mature flesh, the confident way she adjusted her clothes afterward. Everything was calculated. Everything was meant to make me uncomfortable, hard, and attentive.

—Don't make that face. I like to know who works in my house —she said—. Carry on with what you're doing.

She left the bathroom steeped in her perfume and something else, more animal, more intimate, that went straight into my head. I tried to get back to work, but I was already aroused. My cock weighed heavily inside my trousers, and every time I loosened or tightened a nut, the image of her spreading her legs less than two yards away came to me.

I finished quickly. I fitted the new trap, tested it for leaks, dried everything, and packed up. When I stepped into the hall, the housekeeper was already waiting for me, leaning against the wall as if she'd known exactly when I would finish.

—The lady wants you to look at another problem in her bedroom —she said.

—What problem?

—She'll tell you. At the end of the hall.

She pointed to a half-open door. I knocked.

—Come in —the owner's voice said.

I entered, and the room was dim, with the curtains half-closed. It took me a couple of seconds to adjust to the light, and then I saw her on the bed. She was no longer wearing the clothes from before. She had on a black set of stockings and garters, an open robe, and absolutely no modesty. She was reclining with one knee bent, looking at me as if she knew exactly what effect she was having.

—Close the door —she ordered.

I did.

—Come closer.

I took two steps, then two more, until I stood beside the bed. My heart was pounding. She slowly moved the robe aside and spread her legs wider. The dark hair between her thighs was wet. The sight tightened me instantly. I felt my cock fully hard against the zipper.

—The bathroom repair is finished —she said—, but I'm not.

I didn't know what to say.

—I want you to eat my pussy —she added—. And before you say something stupid, yes, you can touch me. I assume you've washed your hands.

—Yes, ma'am.

—Good. Then get on your knees.

I obeyed. It was almost automatic. I set my case aside and knelt beside the bed. She grabbed my hair, not brutally but firmly, and guided me until I was only inches from her sex. The smell was strong, adult, arousing. She was genuinely wet.

—Stick out your tongue —she said.

I did, and she pressed my mouth against her vulva.

I began licking slowly. First one long pass over her lips, then another, firmer one, opening her with my tongue. She breathed out through her mouth and tightened her grip on my hair. I slipped the tip of my tongue between her folds and found her clitoris already swollen. When I began making circles over it, her thigh tensed against my shoulder.

—That's it. Don't stop. Suck it properly.

I opened her legs wider with my hands and continued. I tasted her eagerly, without any false delicacy. My tongue moved up and down, and at the same time I inserted one finger, then two, pumping slowly. Her pussy gradually loosened around my fingers as her breathing grew louder.

—Deeper —she ordered—. I want to feel you.

I sank my fingers in to the knuckles and curled them slightly. She let out a deep moan. I began fucking her pussy with my hand while sucking her clitoris with my mouth, alternating quick licks with slow suction that made her writhe on the sheets. Her lubrication wet my chin.

—Take your clothes off, but don't stop licking.

I pulled down my trousers and briefs as best I could, awkwardly, without fully taking my mouth away. My cock sprang out hard, already glistening at the tip. She glanced at it for barely a second and smiled.

—That's what I thought. You'd been dying for this since the bathroom.

She was right.

I kept eating her with greater hunger. My tongue struck her clitoris, my fingers slid in and out, slick with her juices, and she began moving her hips against my face, using me without shame. Whenever I tried to set the pace, she pulled my hair to impose hers.

—Don't think. Obey.

The door opened.

I didn't turn around, though I knew immediately who had entered. The housekeeper came up behind me and closed the door again. I felt her presence at my back, and at that same instant the mature woman gripped me more tightly.

—You keep going —she said—. If you take your mouth off my pussy, you leave without getting paid.

I swallowed and kept licking. Fear shot through my body along with a brutal surge of kink. I heard a jar opening behind me. Cold liquid spilled onto my lower back and began spreading over my buttocks.

The housekeeper's hands were firm. She spread my cheeks, smeared lubricant between them, and then circled my anus with her fingertips. My entire body clenched.

—Relax —she whispered behind me—. If you tense up, it'll hurt more.

I continued with my face buried between the lady's legs, breathing in her scent and listening to her moans, while the other woman casually massaged my ass from behind. I felt a finger press, insist, slip barely inside. A moan escaped me against the pussy I was sucking.

—That's it, darling —the woman on the bed said—. Don't stop eating me.

The finger went a little deeper, twisted, and opened me patiently. Then it withdrew and came back in better lubricated. My body tried to close, but the pleasure mixed with the shame left me confused and wildly aroused. My cock throbbed beneath my stomach, pressed against the mattress.

—Please... slowly —I murmured.

—You're learning —the one behind me said.

I felt another stream of lubricant. This time there was more of it. Then something thicker than a finger began pushing against my entrance. My breath caught.

—No, not that... —I managed to say.

The lady grabbed the back of my neck and pressed my face against her sex.

—Yes. That. And while they put it in you, keep sucking me like the good boy you are.

The pressure increased. The tip of a harness, or a dildo strapped to the housekeeper's body, began forcing its way into my ass. It burned. It opened me with cruel slowness, millimeter by millimeter, and I had to grit my teeth not to pull away. The lady's clitoris was still beneath my tongue, throbbing and wet, and her hips moved, seeking me, just when I wanted to escape forward.

—Take a deep breath —the woman behind me said—. Push as if you were trying to let it out. That's it.

I did as she said. Instead of closing, my body yielded a little. The tip breached the first ring and suddenly pushed several centimeters farther in. I let out a muffled moan.

—My ass... fuck...

—You sound beautiful —the lady mocked—. Keep going.

I forced myself to continue licking. My lips moved over her pussy while the penetration behind me advanced, slow but relentless. I felt it opening me from the inside, each centimeter forcing me to accept something I had never prepared myself for. It hurt, yes, but alongside the pain came a filthy, intense, unfamiliar sensation that made me leak more from the tip of my cock.

—Almost there —the housekeeper whispered.

Then she pressed her body against my buttocks and pushed it all the way in with one sustained thrust. My vision blurred. I went still, my mouth pressed to the other woman's sex, panting.

—All the way in, ma'am —the woman behind me said.

—Then fuck him.

The first thrusts were short. She moved in and out only slightly, letting my body get used to the thickness. Each movement tore an involuntary moan from me. Little by little, my ass stopped resisting so much. The raw pain began to mingle with a deep, very strange pleasure that spread from inside me toward my cock.

The lady was masturbating with one hand while I sucked her clitoris. With the other, she kept hold of my hair, managing my head over her pussy. I was already lost between them. One used my mouth and the other fucked my ass. There was no room to think.

—Use your tongue harder —the mature woman ordered—. I want to come in that mouth.

I obeyed. I drove my tongue against her clitoris, alternating hard suction with quick licks. My fingers went back into her pussy at the same time as the rhythm behind me increased. The housekeeper was no longer being careful. She gripped my hips and slammed into me eagerly, pulling almost all the way out and driving back in until I trembled.

The sound of skin, both women's moans, and my broken breathing filled the room. I felt lubricant running between my buttocks each time that rubber cock opened me and entered again. My ass had grown just accustomed enough to turn the punishment into pure addiction. Every thrust rubbed me inside in a way that made me harder.

—Look at him —the lady said, sitting up slightly for a better view—. You've driven him crazy.

—And he's still holding himself wide open —the other replied, giving me a deep thrust that made me moan against the pussy I was eating.

The mature woman gave a low laugh and put two fingers into my mouth, soaked in her own taste.

—Suck them.

I did it without hesitation. She pulled them out and stroked my lip.

—Good boy.

Those two words went through me from head to toe. I don't know what they did, but they sank me deeper into the role they were imposing on me. I felt ashamed of how aroused I was by it and, at the same time, I no longer wanted it to stop.

The housekeeper changed the angle, spreading my buttocks farther with one hand while continuing to drive the harness into me, using the other to guide my hips. It went deeper that way. She drew an open cry from me.

—There... fuck... right there...

—You can tell you like it —she murmured behind me.

The lady slid a hand toward my cock. She didn't take hold of all of it. She only brushed it with her fingertips, smearing the glans with the liquid on them. That minimal contact was enough to bring me to the brink of losing control.

—Don't come yet —she said—. You come when I tell you.

She withdrew her hand and opened herself to me again. I kept licking her, soaked in front and being penetrated behind. She began rubbing herself against my mouth more violently, using me to reach her orgasm while the other woman didn't let up for a second. These were no longer tentative thrusts; they were fucking my ass for real, with rhythm and authority, making me produce obscene sounds each time she entered lubricated and withdrew shining.

—I'm going to come —the mature woman panted—. Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop...

I pressed my tongue harder against her clitoris and curled my fingers inside her pussy. She went rigid, crushed my face against her crotch, and came trembling, releasing long, hoarse moans. She wet my mouth as her body shuddered over me.

I kept taking thrusts during her orgasm. When she finished, she moved me aside just enough to look at me. Her breathing was ragged, her cheeks flushed, and her expression was satisfied and cruel at the same time.

—Now him —she said.

She got off the bed and positioned herself in front of me. The housekeeper didn't stop penetrating me. The lady crouched, took my cock in one hand, and began stroking it slowly, just enough to inflame me further. Her other hand slipped between my buttocks and pressed around the harness each time the other woman thrust, as if she wanted to feel how they were opening me between them.

—Look how it's dripping —she said, watching the liquid at the tip—. No one has ever treated you like this, have they?

—No, ma'am...

—Say it properly.

—No, ma'am. Never.

She smiled. She spat a little on my glans and continued jerking me with calculated slowness. Behind me, the rhythm grew hard again. My body was so aroused that every anal thrust went straight to my cock. I felt orgasm rising in waves, barely held back by the order to endure.

The mature woman leaned down and ran her tongue over the tip. Just once. Then again. Then she took the glans into her mouth and sucked with her lips closed while the housekeeper gave me three deep, consecutive thrusts that emptied my head.

—Ma'am... I can't hold back anymore...

She released my cock, looked me in the eyes, and said:

—Come.

It was immediate. My entire body exploded. I came with a long, shameful moan while the lady took my cock into her mouth and swallowed the milk I released in spasms. Behind me, the other woman kept fucking me for a few more seconds, more slowly, squeezing out the last contraction of my orgasm. I felt the artificial cock entering and leaving my ass while I emptied myself into an adult woman's mouth that let not a drop escape.

When I finished, my arms were trembling. The housekeeper carefully withdrew the harness. I complained softly as it came out, leaving my ass hot, sensitive, and still open. The lady stood up, held my chin, and kissed me. It was a wet, dirty, dominating kiss. She returned to my tongue the taste of my own cum mixed with hers.

—Swallow —she whispered.

I swallowed.

She stroked my cheek as a reward.

—Very good.

They left me kneeling for a few seconds, catching my breath, my cock already soft and my ass still throbbing. The housekeeper handed me a towel, and the lady stood up, crossing her robe over her body as if nothing extraordinary had happened.

—There's a shower in the guest bathroom —she said—. Clean yourself up, come downstairs, sign the service order, and I'll pay you.

I followed her, still dazed. In the bathroom mirror I saw my red face, disheveled hair, and an expression I didn't recognize: exhaustion, yes, but also an animal arousal that was still there, clinging to my body. I washed away the lubricant, sweat, and the remains of everything with hot water, and as I did, my legs trembled when I remembered the sensation of that penetration, the order to obey, the unexpected pleasure in my ass.

When I went downstairs, the lady was impeccably dressed again, sitting at a glass table as if she had spent the afternoon reading. She signed the work order, handed me payment for the service, and then slid a sealed envelope toward me.

—This is for your discretion and your attitude —she said.

I put it away without opening it.

The housekeeper accompanied me to the door. Before I left, she came close enough that only I could hear her.

—Next time you'll arrive less frightened.

I left that house with my body aching and my head burning. There was much more money in the envelope than it cost to replace a trap. But it wasn't only the pay. It was the other thing: the uncomfortable, exciting, and now impossible-to-deny certainty that I had liked being used that way.

That same night, alone in my apartment, I masturbated while thinking about their orders, one woman's tongue on my cock and the other's directing my face between her legs. I came remembering the pressure opening my ass and the exact moment when the pain turned into pleasure.

I have never looked at a Saturday duty shift the same way again.

And ever since, whenever the phone rings for a home repair, part of me wonders whether behind another door there might be a mature woman waiting for something more than a repair.