Rough Hands 3

God, it needs a lot of work.

I thought as I woke up to the new damp patch on the ceiling. Inheriting the house had been such a blessing when I was struggling to pay rent, just starting out my career, but it was still absorbing so much of my now substantial paycheck.

The office had been the first space I sorted out so that most days I could work from home as a game designer, but the rest of the house was still lacking. I had more time on my hands nowadays, so I was chipping away at the work myself: patching up floorboards, tiling the bathroom, and basically accumulating a vast array of handy skills.

One thing I had conceded on, however, was the garden. No amount of time watching Youtube tutorials could seem to make my fingers green and to be honest, I wasn't that keen on spending all day outside anyway. Hiring a gardener had been the best thing I'd done for my sanity, and it was an added bonus that the man was absolutely gorgeous. His

arms,

I could stare at those all day, and I found myself doing that this morning as he worked on the new bed, prepping it for the wildflowers I'd begged him to put in. Well, not that he'd put up much of a fight - we agreed a lot on how the garden should look, but I know that he'd wanted to focus on sorting out the pond last week and I'd overruled him in favour of getting the flowers in as soon as possible. He bent over for a second to pick out a weed, giving me a fantastic view of his arse before he casually tossed the root aside.

I really need to get dressed, I can't ogle him through the net curtains all day

. I'd been thirsting after him since he started with me 3 months ago and

God,

I needed to get a grip. I couldn't fuck someone I was

employing

, that just felt...I couldn't.

But today that thought would not leave me alone. I took a cold shower to calm myself down and put the kettle on. Called out to him and invited him down for coffee.

Just coffee. Get a grip and just be polite.

A couple minutes later, he came in with a bunch of flowers in hand to replace the 2-day old ones on the dining table. He glanced at me with such a sweet smile as he took the vase to the tap. It had me wondering if he'd do that even if I hadn't asked him to.

"Busy day today?" he asked, politely.

"Not so much," I replied. "I've got a bit of writing to do but otherwise I was just going to chill out. Are you staying til 2 today?" We had a flexible arrangement with his hours - I could afford to pay him enough to take shorter days but the garden was small enough for him to manage in those hours anyway. I wasn't even sure why I paid him so well. Except the little voice in the back of my mind knew it was because I didn't want to share him with anyone else, even in a professional capacity.

We chatted for a little bit while we sipped our coffee in the kitchen. I couldn't take my eyes off his hands - one with his fingers hooked around the handle of the mug, the other casually hanging a thumb through his belt loop. Even as he spoke, I struggled to concentrate on his words when my mind was so preoccupied by thoughts of his rough calloused fingertips tracing down my neck, slowly leading down my collarbone to graze along the side of my breast. I took a long sip of coffee and looked up to find his eyes locked straight on mine. I was suddenly so aware that my gaze had been directed towards the hand on his belt loop, and it must have looked as if I was staring at his crotch the whole time - I might as well have been for the scandalous thoughts that were now infusing my entire body with arousal.

"I feel like maybe you've got something on your mind..." he said, his lips curling up in an amused smile.

Is he flirting? Surely...

I couldn't be sure without obviously looking down again, but did I just see his bulge twitch?

I shook it off, a little unconvincingly. "No, I'm sorry - I'm just waking up, still feeling a little dazed."

His little smile almost turned into a grin before he smothered it with another sip of coffee.

He knows, oh God.

I felt my cheeks flush hard, but I didn't have any coffee left to hide behind. "I'd better get to writing," I said in an attempt to flee this mortifying situation, but his confident giggle stopped me from actually going to leave the room.

"It sounds like you need to wake up a little before that," he smirked. He'd put his mug down now and crossed his arms.

"I-," I couldn't finish my thought.

He knows and he's flirting back.

The wrongness of fucking someone who I

paid

to be here, in my house, tugged at my thoughts.

He knows and he wants me.

I could see it in his eyes, which hadn't left mine since he first caught me staring, but now wandered elsewhere. Down my body. I felt so vulnerable, and I couldn't stand it. I had to take control of the situation.

Fuck it. Fuck

him, I corrected. He didn't stand a chance.

I took a deep breath and let my heart settle down. "Well, I have always found it difficult to get started in the morning," I explained as I set my mug down and casually hopped up to sit on the counter. "There's just something about waking up to a nice view that keeps me from properly concentrating."

Time to wipe that smirk off his face.

"And you are just such a nice view."

It worked. I knew he didn't think I'd just say it outright, and for a second he was at a loss for words. I took the opportunity again.

"I need to add another job to your list for the day, if that's ok." He just looked at me, the question on his face, his lips just barely open in disbelief in what he thought was happening. "Wash your hands." I commanded, and he immediately obeyed. "Come here."

His confident demeanour was slowly sinking away as I took charge again. He was my gardener, my employee. I was paying him to be here, and now he knew I had been lusting after him the whole time. There was no going back from here, and so I decided to take it all the way. I took his hands in mine and traced the rough skin with my finger.

"Your next job is to wake me up," I said. I was much more comfortable giving orders than casually flirting. "You will use your hands, and your mouth."

Finally, this dragged a smile out of him again; He now completely understood the situation.

Good, so this is a job he feels that he's qualified for.

His hands were immediately on me, starting at my shoulders and quickly but softly tracing his fingertips exactly where I wanted them, my skin sizzling at his sandpaper touch across the back of my neck and then a single finger down my throat. It continued down my chest, between my breasts to the top button of my sleek blouse, which he swiftly undid. With one hand still at the nape of my neck and now the other exploring under my shirt, my eyes were closed while I enjoyed the pleasure of his touch, and he surprised me with his hot lips suddenly on my mouth. At the same time, his fingers deftly flicked across my nipple, hardening it and drawing an uncontrolled moan from me against his lips. He squeezed it between his thumb and forefinger, quick and tight, shooting electricity to my core. Even though it was just a ruse to get his body close to mine, he was certainly doing a good job of waking me up.

He broke away from the kiss and I gasped a breath I hadn't realised I was holding. His hands roved over my torso to undo the rest of the buttons of my top.

Shouldn't have bothered getting dressed at all, I guess.

With my blouse open and breasts now fully exposed, his lips marked a trail of hot kisses and gentle bites from my neck to right nipple. He licked and then gave it a sloppy kiss, and I was suddenly aware of the left being hardened by his thumb brushing over it. The air was cold when he released my tit from his mouth, but I barely noticed once his fingers were back, stroking the areola now slick with saliva while his tongue was already across and licking the other.

The heat in my pussy was building and I could feel my juices starting to leak onto my pants. He paused his sucking for a moment and we shared a glance as he looked up at me. I couldn't read his expression, and for a second, I thought it had been a mistake.

"Am I doing a good job?" he said, and his cocky smile was enough to harden my resolve to control the situation, to take charge.

I turned my nose up and smiled. "You're just about earning your paycheck, I suppose." He retaliated by giving me a playful nip on my breast, but I held in my gasp. "You've still got some work to do before I increase your hourly rate," I teased.

Maybe he was turned on by the thought of being my paid bitch, because this prompted him to make a request. "I need access to the rest of your body to continue," he breathed against my belly. By this point, I was aching with need. His skill was obviously not limited to gardening, and I was relishing the power I had over him. I was already thinking of the next time he would visit: I was going to make him worship my body every time.

He stood to allow me to pull my trousers and pants off, my bare ass now comfortably exposed on the wooden kitchen counter. Spreading my legs, I pushed his head down to kneel between my thighs. His breath was hot.

Once he started licking my pussy, I could barely control myself. Every long stroke of his tongue became a flame of desire so fucking hot that I could no longer hold in the moans I was trying so desperately to contain. I wrapped my legs around his head and ground into his face, feeling my juices, slick against his chin and dripping down towards my asshole. With his mouth entirely buried in my pussy, I was aware he needed to take a breath and so released him briefly from my thigh grip. Little did I expect him to take that as an opportunity to add a finger to the rippling pleasure he was delivering for me. His rough fingertips gently rubbed once against my clit - I fought to hold back the orgasm that instantly threatened to gush through me.

I'm not letting this end just yet.

While his fingers left my clit and buried themselves deep in my wet hole, his mouth replaced them. He made out with my pussy, sloppily sucking and then rubbing his tongue flat against my throbbing bud. When his thick fingers curled against my g-spot, I exploded in an orgasm so delicious that I grabbed his hair to keep his head close to me as I rode the wave of pleasure.

When I released him and he looked up at me, I almost came again from the sight of him kneeling below me, his face covered in my cum.

"Well done," I said, matching his smirk from earlier.

Thankfully, he seemed to have enjoyed himself as well. "Does this mean I get a pay rise?" he asked, and even with that wide grin on his face, I think he was only half-joking.

"Maybe," I teased. "Do you want that to be part of your responsibilities going forward?"

He stood up and stepped back a little to lean against the opposite counter. I felt a little exposed with my blouse undone and my pussy bare while he was still fully clothed in his work gear. "I would do that just for fun," he said. "But I could be your call boy if you like." His cocky smile was back.

God, he wants to be my bitch.

"I think we could negotiate a special rate for overtime if I call you out-of-hours," I offered. I was trying hard to maintain my confident manner, but it was slipping a little as my pussy was still leaking on the counter. "And while you're here to garden, we could have the occasional extra-long coffee break. If you like," I added.

He shifted a little before answering and chuckled softly. I suddenly noticed that he was rock hard, which relieved my self-consciousness slightly. "I think I would like that," as if to himself.

My nerve somewhat restored, I slipped off the counter and started to gather up my clothes. "That sounds like a plan then," I said, relishing the feeling of cum slipping between my thighs as I moved. I went to leave and get dressed (again). "Do you want to put the kettle on? I fancy another coffee before I start work properly," I said over my shoulder. He said nothing but I heard the tap running just as the door shut behind me.