I was so busted.
Evangeline, Eva as she preferred to be called, had cleaned my room immaculately for the last week and a half and I tipped her better than I ever had tipped anyone. She was different. A demeanor Like royalty.
On day one she thanked me profusely for the tip and carefully tucked it into her back pocket.
"That's going straight into my home-going fund," she had said. "I'm going home and taking my kids to see their grandparents for the first time."
In fact, I had gotten so comfortable with her coming in regularly at the same time each day as I immersed myself writing, that I totally spaced out on looking around this time to make sure the place was safe for her eyes.
Now, though, I was so busted.
She turned and looked at me, eyes wide, then involuntarily back at my computer screen. The screensaver was flitting through the most torrid fucking and sucking I had in my extensive porn collection.
I blushed, grinned, and started to slink past Eva to lower the screen.
She put her hand on my chest to stop me, and turned back to the screen. With her other hand, she reached to the keyboard with astonishing computer savvy and froze the current picture on the screen.
I covered my eyes with my hand and groaned. A plain-looking, but naturally very pretty disheveled woman teased a massive cock with her mouth slightly open, her sparkling green eyes looking up into the guy's face.
Eva kept her hand on my chest, letting it slip only slightly down as she stared at the image for the longest seconds I had ever experienced. Her eyes moved over the scene in what at first was overt shock, then slowly softened into wonder, then one corner of her mouth turned up slightly, reminding me of the glorious young Gloria Estefan in one of her more alluring album covers.
"She's pretty, you know." Eva's voice belied much higher education than one would suspect.
She forgot her hand was on my chest as she instinctively flicked the forward arrow to unfold the sex sequence.
I reached unconsciously but cautiously to take her hand when her fingers started to slip lower on my chest than I thought safe or wise – especially given I had been tweaking a story I wanted to try to submit to the Literotica erotic literature site; I suspected any sort of touch or motion near my stomach or lower could result in even more embarrassing repercussions. Besides, I knew where this sequence of photos was going.
And Eva waded right into the suck-off scene, one of my favorites because the couple seemed so engaged, so willing, so happy in their fucking. But, yeah, the final cumshot scenes were graphic and – well – pretty hot to a guy too long isolated on the road, writing equal portions of travel articles, research articles, and erotica. So, yeah, I was pretty red-faced.
Point is, Eva didn't move her hand when I grabbed it. She didn't seem to know I was holding it for the longest.
Penning Freer, owner of a painfully uncontrollable imagination and voracious sexual appetite, smelled perfume on Eva's wrist and it sent shock waves through the senses.
I didn't let go of her hand, nor did she withdraw it.
Eva watched mesmerized, cocking her head a time or two so her short-cropped jet black bangs shifted across her forehead.
Eva turned to me with eyes wide and pupils covering almost her entire eye surface. I couldn't interpret the look in those wide dark eyes but it was close to wonder, to understanding, to rapt fascination, to almost motherly empathy for my loneliness and need, and more – much more – than just a hint of a lifelong lover's arousal. All in a single look.
Let's see if I am covering this: before now she was Evangeline, Eva, the sweet girl woman who cleaned my room but stood poised like a princess - so out of place, yet so perfectly comfortable and competent in doing such a simple job.
Now, before me, looking up at me, she was five feet two inches, holding my hand, beautifully groomed and daintily dressed in denims and white cotton top. Plain and exotic. Black hair shiny, bouncy, lips full, teeth strong, straight, capable of fighting and tearing food to provide nutrients so she could sustain her small, nubile life and protect her kids.
And she smelled of clean and light perfume - simple but selective aroma. And she smiled with only one edge of her full lips raised – half-smile, a bemused grin. A grin that spoke of parents well-heeled in culture and diplomacy.
"I am going to kiss you now, Penning Freer, room fourteen sixty nine. If you don't want me to, you need to say so now." It was one of the few complete sentences I would ever hear her say.
She reached on her tip toes and brought her wide open eyes and half-smile lips several inches up to mine and hovered there before she let our lips touch. She breathed in my mouth first, tasting my air and letting me taste hers. It was fresh and buoyant and intoxicating.
I remember no kiss. Only sweet air from her lungs mixing with mine and soul wine spit mixing with mine. Real as your guts. Deep as the ocean descending once one sails westerly out of Guantanamo Bay.
Sometime in this fully clothed soul fuck I lifted Eva like a rag doll, still attached to her lips. Her legs swung back once, then swung back into me and spread, circled my legs just below my skinny ass, and locked around me, ankles clasped.
I walked her to the still unmade bed, one slow step at a time, as though moving slow would not scare her.
She wasn't scared.
I leaned forward with her wrapped around my body with no balance problem at all – her weight was nothing to me. She fit like an extension of my body. I set her down on her back, her legs still locked around me like a gift ribbon holding a package only to entice, but not to really contain the present.
Remember, once her hand touched my chest, our bodies never parted.
I climbed aboard and straddled her legs, my denim scratching hers.
My hands shook like the cup holder on a Harley handlebar at ignition but I got every button on her blouse undone without tearing a single one.
Now finally she held her arms free so I could lift off her blouse. She lifted her torso like a gymnast and took off her plain but fashionable bra herself and just held it in her hands as she put her arms back around my neck, letting the soft material caress my face while she reached her tongue to caress my breath some more.
I was hungry to make love with Eva my room wife, so I excused myself abruptly and backed up to put my feet on the ground and very clumsily, but effectively, I tugged my boots off, then my socks, then unbuckled my belt, undid the Levis buttons, and lifted one leg at a time out, peeling each down like a plantain, throwing the mess of cloth away from me.
Eva didn't move, didn't speak, just watched me like a prize and smiled her smile with a half-twist, in wonder at this thing that was happening.
I forgot I hadn't put on underwear. When I got my jeans off there was nothing but my cock dangling there in front of Eva, growing but still not overdone due to the undressing effort.
