Cleaning His BIG Rod (Smut With A Side Of Story) by Diana Quippley Page B

you reach behind to get the back and sides,”
he ordered.
     
    And as I did so,
bending forward to stretch my arm out, I could feel my boobs hanging low in my
tight shirt.
     
    “Very nice,” Mr.
North said. “I think you’ve done this before.”
     
    “Once or twice,” I
laughed.
     
    “Do you think this
is funny, Emma?”
     
    “No, not at all,”
I told him, making damn sure to wipe the smile clean from my face.
     
    “I should hope you
are taking this seriously. Breaking rules shouldn’t be taken lightly. It’s
quite disrespectful,” the seated man stated.
     
    I nodded several
times to appease him.
     
    “Make sure you get
the very back,” came Mr. North’s next instruction.
     
    And so I leaned
forward even more, feeling my perky breasts squish and spread out across the TV
screen.
     
    “Mmhmm,” he
grunted. “Fine work. They look lovely.”
     
    “Excuse me, Mr.
North?”
     
    “Nothing, Emma.
Why don’t you dust off the far table as well. The one with a lamp on it near
the door.”
     
    Well, the
punishment hadn’t been too bad so far. A quick little wiping was tolerable.
Even if it was slightly uncomfortable with Mr. North watching me the entire
time. It wasn’t until I reached the table that I discovered the full intent of
his requests.
     
    “Once you’ve got
the top dusted,” he said, “be sure to reach down and clear out the socket. I
don’t want any dust trapped in there. Fire hazard, you know.”
     
    Of course, to
reach the socket I was forced to bend over at the waist, facing directly away
from my overseer. I could feel the short skirt riding up my legs, high enough
that I was forced to stretch back and pull the material down or I would have definitely
been exposed. And somehow, I gathered, that was Mr. North’s intent. A little
game of punishment, eh? Well, two can play that game.
     
    I decided to
release my hand from the skirt. He wanted a show? I’d give him a little show,
as there’s nothing worse than looking without being able to touch. This way I
could turn the tables on Mr. Rules over there.
     
    “Did I do well,
Mr. North?” I asked from over my shoulder.
     
    “Just a few more
passes,” he returned.
     
    And so I bent down
a little farther, allowing my skirt to hike up, revealing the very lowest part
of my cotton panties.
     
    “That’s real
good,” Mr. North nodded. “You’re doing much better now. A fast learner. You
must be a real college girl.”
     
    “Anywhere else you
would like me to dust?” I questioned, resting a hand on my hip, licking at my
lips.
     
    And here I saw Mr.
North cast his gaze at the two lovely spheres on my chest. Good thing I’d worn
a low top, it made for a nice show with the cleavage hanging out. And while my
boobs weren’t overly big, they could certainly get the juices flowing. I
wondered if his were beginning to circulate…
     
    “Are you being
sassy?” he shot back.
     
    I felt a surge of
fright grip my very soul. The tone had been anything but kind or gentle. It was
guttural and malicious, a no nonsense kind of voice.
     
    “No, sir. I’m only
trying to do a thorough job,” I pleaded.
     
    “Hmm, in that
case,” he began, “Why don’t you come over here and clear off the table on my
right.”
     
    There were various
papers and some left over wrappers on the table. A few remotes and one drinking
cup. I moved over quickly, picking the items up and placing them in their
proper places.
     
    “You forgot one,”
Mr. North was pointing at a wrapper in his hand.
     
    As I wandered
over, sticking my hand out to retrieve it from his – but the man let it drop to
the floor… forcing me to bend over and scoop it up.
     
    “Perfect,” he
said, staring at my breasts which were now in full view with me resting between
his legs practically two feet away.
     
    But some things
just rub me the wrong way. And being made out to be this man’s little toy was
one of them.
     
    “I didn’t expect
your home to be so messy, Mr.