Maid to Love You

by Ylana MIlls

  Like he was actually about to eat her out.

  Her muscles clenched rather forcefully, and she gasped, quickly clearing her throat to hide the lewd moan that had threatened to escape her throat. What an impossible man! Why was he doing that to her?

  "I shouldn't have asked," she muttered, shifting uncomfortably on the chair as she tried to ignore the intense throb between her legs.

  "You shouldn't," he replied, fidgeting with the cards in front of him in a desperate attempt to ignore the woman's obvious arousal. "Really."

  He raised her eyes to her face, noticing how flustered she had gotten. Friday… It was Friday. Heavens, why were they even talking about those things? Why were they not playing Monopoly? Blackjack? Anything other than a sex trivia game?

  "She, for 400," he said, after letting out a sigh and getting up.

  "The mons. The knees. The abs. The scalp," Eliza read from a card, while he walked past her and headed to the kitchen to get another bottle of apple juice from the fridge.

  "What are… parts of the body… that… apparently… have nothing in common?" he replied, pausing every now and then as he tried to come up with an answer.

  "Oh come on…" she said. "It's not that difficult."

  "What are erogenous zones?" he replied, stealing a glance at the card as he walked back to the table.

  "Hey! You cheated!"

  "No, I didn't!"

  "You did! You looked at it!"

  "Pff… Did not…" he whispered, but the smile on his face gave him away. "The knees?" he asked, wrinkling his nose and tilting his head. "Really?"

  "A take-home lesson for you, Mr. Shaw," Eliza replied, tipping her chin upwards.

  "I will bear that in mind… Your turn."

  "He, for 600."

  He picked another card and read it, after pouring himself another glass of juice.

  "The period of time a man takes to recover after ejaculating."

  "Aw…" Eliza frowned, looking unhappy. "I don't know… It's not as if I get many second helpings myself," she shrugged. "What is 5 minutes?"

  "Oh my…" Devon muttered in response. "I see I'll be dealing with very high expectations here…"

  She giggled.

  "The correct answer is 'What is refractory period'. And there would be a bonus question…" he showed her the card when she raised an eyebrow. "But since you have already taken your stab as to how long it usually lasts, then I'm not asking it."

  "Well, at least tell me the answer."

  Of course she was interested in that answer. From the look on her face, she really hoped it was only five minutes. Oh dear. He would have to make sure his body was ready: apparently, Eliza Clark intended to ravish him continuously as soon as their ban on sex was lifted.

  He licked his lip, and cleared his throat before reading the card again.

  "For young adults, an average of 20 minutes."

  "Whaaaat?" she exclaimed. "You're kidding! You men have a very defective machine in operation, then."

  "Excuse me!" Devon put down his glass and looked at her with a profoundly offended look on his face. "I would rather view it as a complex mechanism that involves a lot of delicate tissue and… blood flow."

  "We women require 'blood flow' too, you know."

  "Well, not enough to produce a functioning…" he paused, hunting for a more inspirational word than the scientific term, "… penetrating warrior."

  And then, she burst out in laughter.

  "Oh my God, no! You didn't say that!"

  "What?"

  "'Penetrating Warrior'?" she blurted out, amidst giggles. "Is that how you call it?"

  His eyes went wide and he frowned, in utter disbelief.

  "Of course not! I was joking!"

  "Liar!"

  "I don't call it 'Penetrating Warrior', ok?"

  "Oh yeah? And what do you call it, then?"

  "I don't 'call it', Eliza! I don't talk to my penis!'

  "Liar! You sure do."

  "I don't- Wait. How do you… Have you been watching me in the shower?"

  Checkmate. She was still giggling, but his words had made her blush lightly. So she had been sneaking up on him!

  "You left the door open once. I overheard it," she replied, avoiding his gaze. "Didn't watch."

  "Yeah right…" he snorted, feeling extremely pleased with that revelation. He wondered if it had turned her on? Oh, what was he even thinking. That was Eliza Clark, of course it had turned her on. Maybe… maybe she had even played with herself as she watched him jacking off… And then come when he cried his release…

  Before he knew, his pants had become awfully tight, and so had his grip around his glass of juice.

  He swallowed, and forced out a smile as he looked at her again. What were they talking about, anyway? Oh yeah. Whatever it was she had heard while he was in the shower.

  "And what was I saying?"

  "I don't know," she shrugged, but when she lifted her eyes from the table to stare at him again, he knew that the topic was making her hot as well. "It was more like indistinct blabber… and moaning."

  He had to bite his tongue and use all of his self-control not to stand up, lift her from the chair and sit her on the table, swipe the board, the cards, the glass and everything else, and plunge into her until the two of them were writhing… and moaning.

  'Only two more days…' his mind reminded him. 'Only two more days.'

  He cleared his throat, and brought the glass of juice to his lips once again.

  "Oh well..." he whispered. "I am shocked."

  "Sure you are."

  "I guarantee, though, that I've never used the expression "Penetrating Warrior", or any other name for my nether parts."

  "Oh yeah? So what was all the talking about?"

  He took another gulp of his juice and smiled. So she wanted to play? Fine. He would play. He leaned towards her, and after shifting his legs to the side of the chair so that his crotch was visible, he made a fist between his legs, and pretended to be jerking off.

  "Yeah, Eliza, ride my cock, fuck…" he whispered into her ear. "Fuck yeah, I'm gonna fill you with my seed…"

  At his words, Eliza jolted to the side and lost her balance, falling off the chair.

  "You… asshole!" she screamed with a smile on her face, getting back on her feet as Devon burst into laughter.

  'If you didn't want to know the answer,' her mind pointed out. 'Then you shouldn't have asked the question…'

  The problem was, she did want to know the answer. More than that: she had actually liked it.

  -----

  An hour later, Eliza Clark was lying on the couch, letting out another lazy sigh.

  It was a good thing that she had taken a day off. The last few days had been rather busy at work, and she was tired. And then there was that challenge… what a stupid idea.

  Actually, the part of her that was not climbing the walls felt particularly happy with how things were going between Devon and her. Every single moment they had spent together had been worth it. By now, it was more than obvious Devon was not like the other men she had met. She knew that, and had unsuccessfully tried to undo the whole thing the day before, but now the man was determined to go through with it, so she would just have to suck it up and get her act together.

  Only two more days to go. It was not that bad.

  She lowered her eyes to the book she was reading, or at least pretending to.

  Her eyes danced sleepily over the words, not really interested in them at this point… She wanted to see the illustrations…

  And then, he was back in the room, wearing nothing but his jeans. No shoes, no T-shirt… His chest still damp, just like his hair.

  'Oh great… So now he is just gonna show off…'

  Without a word, he headed to the bar, and fished something from behind the counter.

  'What is that? A mixer? Yeah… Be a nice boy, Devon. I could really, really do with a drink…'

  Her eyelids were heavy as she watched him walk towards h
er, shaking the mixer as he walked, a sly smile curling his lips.

  "My God… I love your body, you know that?" she said, her arm falling limply from the couch as her eyes danced over his chest.

  "Oh, I know," he replied, a mere foot away from where she was. "I love your body too. Are you wearing panties?"

  "What?" she asked, with a frown.

  "Are you?"

  "Of course I'm-"

  She paused. Just to make sure, she had reached under her dress to check.

  "…not."

  And then, he licked his lips as his eyes darted from her face to her legs, and from legs to where her hand was lodged.

  "H-How… did you know?"

  "Could you please get up?"

  "Why?"

  He raised his eyebrows in response, and her eyes fell upon his crotch.

  "Oh, you… I thought you would wait until Monday," she said with a smile on her lips as she stood up, leaning against the couch arm and looking at the bulge in his pants.

  "Me too."

  And then, he led the shaker to his lips, and squirted a shot into his mouth.

  It was not a shaker, after all. It was a can of whipped cream.

  "Sweet Fancy Moses," she muttered, her mouth hanging open as he swallowed.

  "Want some?"

  Her eyes darted from his face to the can, and then to his crotch and back to his face, trying to figure out what he was actually referring to. Some what?

  Then, she realized it didn't really matter, because in both cases the answer would be the same.

  "Y-Yes… Sure…"

  He smiled, shortly before leaning on to kiss her, his lips parted to allow his tongue to dart out and flick against hers, slowly, sweet, softly… as if they had forever to pick up speed. Further down her body, his index finger had found its way to her slit, and for a second she felt something icy cold rub against her entrance.

  And then, there was whipped cream. Except, not where she thought there would be.

  Her eyes shot open as she gasped, instinctively clenching her legs and trapping Devon's hand, and the can he was holding, in the process.

  "What the-- Devon…!"

  Devon, however, simply smiled at her reaction. As he kneeled in front of her, she got the feeling she would not get any explanations anytime soon.

  His eyes remained glued to hers as he grabbed her dress and pulled it up, one of his hands firmly securing it behind her back, holding it high enough so that the top of her thighs and her mons were in full display before his eyes.

  "Devon, wha-"

  But before she started rambling again, he spread her legs apart, lifting one of them over the couch so that he had full access to her sex. And then, she felt his tongue travel where no tongue had ever traveled, and her eyes rolled back in her head.

  "Oh fuck, Devon…"

  As his mouth explored her folds, that stupid Jeopardy song started playing inside her head, making her lose focus for a moment. But nothing that another long, wet lick didn't solve… her legs quivered, and she was quickly brought back to the game.

  She ran her fingers through his hair as his tongue slowly pushed her over the edge… She didn't even know what her body was doing anymore.

  "What the fuck is this?" she asked, marveling at her own sensations.

  "Wrong answer, love," he whispered, licking his cream-covered lips as he emerged from between her legs. "It is, 'What is oral sex?'" He then gently kissed her mouth, before kneeling again. "And since it is double Jeopardy! Round, it's extra 1000 for each time I make you come."

  Before she had the chance to say another word, her eyes shot open as her body hit the floor and she awoke from her dream.

  She had fallen from the couch.

  She quickly brought herself to a sitting position and tried to get up, her eyes darting around the room as she struggled to keep her balance.

  "Nice dreams, huh?"

  Devon's voice made her jump. When she turned around, he saw him standing by the bar, but this time wearing a T-shirt, although, just like in her dream, his hair was still damp…

  "You…" she said, her legs still slightly shaky. "What…"

  "Just saying," he replied, raising an eyebrow as he moved closer to her. "Looked like you were having a blast."

  "Ha ha. Very funny," she narrowed her eyes, trying to ignore the intoxicating scent of verbena and lime that filled her nostrils when he approached her.

  "Wanna share?" he whispered, brushing his knuckles against her neck as he stared at her lips.

  "The fuck?" she frowned, feeling his warm breath on her mouth. So it was not enough to torment her in her dreams. Now he had to torture her with more of his touches and kisses when she was awake… Her body was still tingly from the brief imaginary workout she had been given, but apparently, he was not planning to give her any time to recover.

  "Hey, easy…" he went on, giving her a soft kiss on the lips. "It's just that if you don't tell me… I can't make it come true…"

  "Oh, now this is hilarious," she chuckled, after he kissed her again. "What makes you think I was dreaming of you, to begin with?"

  "You were moaning my name."

  She blinked. It was bad enough that he had witnessed her having a wet dream… Now that he knew he was in it, she had no choice but to swallow that smug smile he was giving her.

  "I don't… I don't even remember anymore," she said, looking away. It was partially true: although she did have a faint recollection of what it had been all about, sadly her dreams usually turned into dust as soon as she woke up.

  "Well, in that case…" he replied, lowering himself to pick up the book she had been reading. "Kama Sutra?"

  She tried to snatch the book from his hands, but he was faster.

  "I'm not much of an acrobat, honey, so if you're planning on something special…" he said, turning his back to her to open the book, making sure it was out of her reach. "…please tell me in advance, so that I don't embarrass myself when the time comes…"

  "I'm not planning on anything!" she exclaimed, blushing slightly when she finally managed to get the book back.

  "Yeah, right."

  "'Yeah, right' what? I'm serious!"

  "OK," he shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he looked at her, smiling.

  "You know what?" she replied, gently pushing him towards the door. "I think you should go."

  "What?"

  "It's way past five."

  "But…"

  "See you tomorrow!" she said, opening the door and shoving him out.

  "Wait, I-"

  "Bye Devon!" she screamed, after swinging the door shut.

  As she walked away, she heard the doorbell chime.

  "What?"

  "Can I at least get my backpack?" he asked, as soon as Eliza opened the door.

  "Be fast."

  "Jesus, woman," he muttered, picking up his backpack from a chair and heading out again, "Why are you so cranky?"

  And then, she saw him smile in triumph. Oh, how he must have waited eagerly to use that sentence against her!

  "Get. Out," she snarled.

  And so he did, an even wider grin curling his lips as he walked to the car.

  -----

  It was Saturday, and Devon found himself lost in random thoughts.

  Funny how things were. All his life, if there had been one thing he could always count on, was his bad luck. Whenever the opportunity for disaster presented itself, he was sure to be caught in the tornado, regardless of how unlikely it was. He thought of his father, his troubled teenage years, and then his marriage… A string of errors, a chain of events that reminded him of someone who goes down a slide filled with blades, just to land in a pool of lemon juice, and then, jump straight into a mountain of salt: a margarita from hell. He raised his eyes from the carpet he was vacuuming to the woman working at the computer not too far from him. And then, he had met Eliza Clark.

  And everything had changed.

  All of a sudden, he felt he was the luckiest man
to walk on earth. True, he still lived in a car, he still didn't have a proper job, he was still dirt-poor. But, perhaps for the first time in his life, he felt he had exactly everything he had always wanted to have: a harbor, a purpose, a true friend that, luckily for him, happened to be a better lover than he could have ever imagined. Eliza Clark was his family. His home.

  And he was incredibly grateful for that.

  "Say…" he said, putting away the vacuum cleaner and walking towards her desk. "Do you have any plans for the evening?"

  "No…" she replied, taking off her glasses to rub her eyes. "Why?"

  "Wanna have dinner with me?"

  "You mean… go out for dinner?"

  "Yeah."

  He kept looking at her face, waiting for a response while she tapped her fingers on the desk.

  "Sure," she said, smiling. "Why not?"

  "When do you think you'll be done?"

  "With this? Oh, I'm done already."

  "Wanna go now?"

  "Now? But it's not even 4. Don't you think it is a little too early for dinner?"

  It was his turn to smile, as he tilted his head upwards and gave her a mischievous look.

  "I was thinking of… showing you where I live first."

  "Devon…"

  "What?"

  She rested her head on her hands, gazing at him for a long minute.

  "I hope you don't have a hidden agenda."

  "Like what? Getting you to give me a blowjob under the table as we eat?"

  "Something like that."

  "Or maybe get-"

  "Stop," she interrupted. "I get your point," she got up and picked up her purse. "Let's go, before I change my mind."

  While she grabbed a coat and headed to the door, Devon ran to the kitchen to pack a few snacks. It would be a long drive, after all, and dinner was still many, many hours away.

  "So… I'm finally going to meet the famous Toyota Camry that you talk so much about."

  "Yes, you are," he replied, locking the door behind him and handing her the key. "There he is."

  He pointed at his car, parked just around the corner, and mentally reviewed the vehicle's condition. Luckily for him, he was the tidy type, which meant his home was always ready to receive guests.