Extra Cash

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To earn extra cash I do house-cleaning jobs in the neighbourhood. I have a few steady customers and the nice thing about it is that the money is tax free. Seeing what I pay in taxes for my regular job you can’t blame someone wanting some tax free money on the side.

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon and I’d promised Brian Abbott that I’d drop by and do a bit of a clean-up for him. He wasn’t a regular customer but his wife had been in hospital for a week and was coming home on Monday and he wanted to have the house spotless for her. Apparently she’d had a very nasty broken arm, the result of getting clipped by some kid on a skateboard, of all things. Apparently he bumped her, she tripped, and finished up hitting the guttering with her arm under her, with snap, crackle, and pop, sounds coming from her arm.

I rolled up at Brian’s place, casually dressed as is fitting for house-cleaning. Tights and a top, basically.

Brian is a very nice gentleman. He’s polite and devoted to his wife. He’d never dream at making a pass at anyone. There should be more men like him. All too often I find that husbands are just a little too willing to go the grope if they think their wife isn’t watching. A couple of them even if their wife is watching. I don’t work for those types more than once.

When I arrived at Brian’s place I saw a van in his drive and winced. I knew that van. It belonged to Mitch, a friend of Brian’s. I said Brian was a gentleman. Mitch was not. Mitch was an uncouth brute. A scummy piece of human refuse that should be swept out with the rest of the rubbish. It wasn’t that he was ugly, (which he certainly was, his face reminding you of the mashed face of a British Bulldog,) but his arrogant attitude. He considered himself to be god’s gift to all mankind and was quite happy to let all mankind know this. Some people blow their own trumpet. Mitch acts the part of a complete orchestra when talking about himself. I cannot stand the man.

I went in and started tidying up. It didn’t really need all that much work, at least, not if you know what you’re doing. I was nearly finished, wiping down shelves and all the little knick-knacks on them in the front room when I overheard Mitch and Brian talking.

“Sweet little body on that girl,” Mitch said, “and the face isn’t half bad, either. Ever tried to talk her into bed when she’s here?”

“You’ve got to be kidding. Two reasons why not. I’m married and so is she.”

“So what. All that means is that you both know what to do once you make it to the bed, assuming you make it that far.”

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. That man was a crude monster.

“Well, I’m not making a pass at her and while you’re in my house you’re not making a pass either.”

Actually, I wouldn’t mind Mitch making a pass just so I could have the pleasure of slapping him down.

“If that’s what you want,” said Mitch agreeable. “Any objections to me asking her to take off her clothes so I can admire her natural beauty? No touching and no passes. Just get her to strip off so I can see if she measures up as highly as I think she does.”

Rotten sod. What the hell makes him think that I’d get undressed just so he could look me over? That fool values himself so much it’s a wonder he doesn’t charge people just to look at him.

“I guess I can’t stop you asking. I know what her answer will be.”

“Now that depends, doesn’t it?” said Mitch. “All you need to do is use the right incentive.”

Time for me to be out of there I decided. I was all done anyway. I wandered out to where they were and nodded to Brian.

“All finished,” I said. “I’ll be on my way.”

“OK. Thanks” Brian replied, reaching for his wallet.

He paid me and I turned to go and then Mitch spoke up.

“Hey, Jan, did you hear I had a bit of luck at the pokies last night?”

“No, I hadn’t heard. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I was about to call it quits when I hit a nice little jackpot. Walked out with over a grand. You can be lucky at times.”

“Indeed you can,” I agreed, ready şişhane escort and willing to get out of there.

“I was watching you earlier and I thought of that extra cash I now have and I was wondering if you’d strip for fifty bucks. All you have to do is take off your clothes for a minute or so. No touching permitted. I just want to see you in your natural state. I’m betting that you’ll look sensational.”

Obviously the man is studying to be a dark lord, the evil bastard. All I’d have to do was strip off for a minute and I’d have fifty. He sure knew how to hit at someone’s soft spot. He wasn’t even asking for me to do anything immoral. I mean, really, even at the beach I’m damn near naked when I’m wearing a bikini. Geez, the offer was tempting. The main problem with it was Mitch. It’d mean that he won. Not that we were in a competition or anything but I just didn’t like the feel that Mitch might have put something over on me. Still, fifty was fifty, and Brian was right there. Mitch wouldn’t really try anything while Brian was standing right there.

I have to admit that it was with great reluctance that I shook my head. While I could have used the money Mitch was still Mitch and an uncouth brute.

I should have known he wouldn’t leave it at that.

“I’ll make it a hundred,” he said. “Easy money. All you have to do is get undressed so that we can admire your figure for a moment or two and then you’re dressed with a hundred dollars in your pocket.”

The words ‘rotten bastard’ were echoing loud and clear in my mind, with other words, such as asshole, challenging them for front place.

“Sorry,” I said, slowly shaking my head and I was sorry. Really sorry. I could certainly have used an extra hundred.

“No. I’m the one who should be sorry,” said Mitch. “I’m being a cheapskate. How about I make it fifty for each item of clothing you take off. The only catch is that you have to take everything off.”

“Shoes don’t count,” he quickly tacked on.

Tights, top, panties and bra. That’s two hundred dollars the rotten man is offering. Just for me to get undressed. I bit my lip. Turning down fifty was one thing. Two hundred was something else again.

What if he didn’t have the money on him? Trust him to pay up sometime in the future? Fat chance I’d ever have of seeing the money in that case.

He must have seen my doubts because he took out his wallet and withdrew some fifties.

“Brian will hold the money,” Mitch said. “Him you can trust to pay you.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” I tried to explain, but he interrupted.

“I know. It’s just that you don’t trust me.”

I glared at him and then found myself looking at the money Brian was holding. I sighed. I was left with no choice. I was going to have to do it.

Tights first. You can take tights of without having to do any contortions and it shows that you’re serious without you actually showing anything. After that, my top, lifting it up and off.

I don’t want you to think I just whipped my tights and top off. By no means. I moved slowly and deliberately, keeping an eye on both Brian and Mitch as I went, wanting to make sure they weren’t getting any ideas.

Brian wasn’t. He was just watching with interest. Mitch was something else. He had ideas bigger than he could handle. His eyes were hot and he was watching like a hawk, all prepared to pounce on his little mouse. If Brian hadn’t been there I’d have reversed direction on my top and hauled my tights back up, probably while running for my life.

As Brian was there I just smiled and felt smug. You want me, I thought as I unclipped my bra and let it drop. I have a fine pair of breasts. Thirty six D and still able to support their own weight, jutting out proudly in front of me. Brian blushed slightly. For a man he is such an innocent. Mitch on the other hand started breathing more heavily.

Standing tall, breasts very pronounced, I eased my panties off my hips. I didn’t bend over to push them down. Once they were past my bottom şişli anal yapan escort I just wiggled my hips in a little shimmy, causing them to slide down of their own accord. Brian was smiling approvingly while Mitch was seeing me lying flat on my back, legs kicking the air, and me screaming as he ravished me on the spot.

I did a little pirouette, spinning slowly on one foot, letting them see all, smiling happily (and smugly) all the while. I have to admit I was just maybe breathing a little harder, with hardened nipples and a hot flush in my groin. There was just something exciting about being naked and knowing that the men couldn’t do anything about it.

It would have been different if Brian hadn’t been there, I had no doubt, but he was and he effectively checked any plans that Mitch might have had.

I held out my hand to Brian and he laid four fifties onto my greedy mitt. I picked up my purse and tucked them away and then proceeded to get dressed, slowly.

I was still slowly pulling up my panties when Mitch gave a short laugh.

“OK,” he said. “That’s it for me. I’ll see you tomorrow Brian.”

With that he nodded goodbye to me and departed. I finished getting dressed quite a bit faster. No need to tempt Brian needlessly. A minute or two later and I was dressed and on my way, rather better off than I had been.

Stepping out onto the street I turned in the direction of home and came to an abrupt halt. Mitch hadn’t left. He’d just backed out of Brian’s drive and parked in the street next door. He was standing there, leaning against the side of the van. A van which had its side door open.

Mitch just looked at me and then jerked his thumb towards the open door.

“Get in,” he said. No cajoling me or anything. Just a flat get in.

“What? I certainly will not,” I said indignantly.

“You will,” he said, speaking quietly but with passion in his voice. “Once you’re in you’re going to take off all your clothes again. Then you’re going to get on the floor, head down, bum up, and I’m going to fuck you rigid. Aren’t you lucky I have nice carpet in the van?”

“I won’t,” I snapped. “You can’t make me.”

That probably wasn’t quite true. He probably could have caught me and dragged me into the van but I didn’t think he would. A brute and an animal he might have been but not, I think, a rapist.

“True,” he said, “but I know who will make you.”

I folded my arms and looked at him scornfully.

“Do tell,” I said.

“I was watching you inside,” he said softly, which was not news to me. I could still feel where his eyes had touched me. “I was feeling hot and lusty and I wanted you. At the same time I could see you were feeling just as hot and lusty and wanted me back. Well now you’re going to get me, you lucky girl. Get in the van.”

I wasn’t feeling quite so smug now. I was, unfortunately, still feeling hot and flushed. Still, there was no way I was going to climb into the back of his van. Who did he think I was?

Who was I kidding? I was going to climb into that van and drop my panties and get thoroughly fucked and we both knew it. I flounced over to the van and climbed in, furious with myself and with Mitch. How dare he put me in such a position?

He entered the van right behind me, slamming the door closed. I turned to give him a nasty look and my eyes went wide as I saw his trousers were already going down. He intended to fuck me right here, right now. I’d sort of assumed that he’d drive somewhere more private.

He frowned when he looked at me and saw I hadn’t started to get undressed. He shook his head and cast his eye upwards as though saying ‘why me’? I felt quite indignant about that.

“Look,” he said, “just get down on your hands and knees as you are. I’ll worry about everything else.”

Feeling rather put upon I did as I was told. Had the man no manners whatsoever? I crouched there, arms folded in front of me and my head resting on them, while my bottom pointed towards the sky. (The roof of the van şişli bdsm escort to be more precise but you know what I mean.)

He grabbed my tights and panties and just pulled them down, pushing them down around my knees. One hand closed over my mound, roughly pawing it.

“Yes,” he said in a satisfied voice, and then his cock was there, pushing into me, not giving me time to adjust but just barging in, filling me up with great haste. I gave a startled squawk which he totally ignored, continuing to ram his cock home, eager to get it fully in place.

His groin hit mine with a slapping sound, followed by another slapping sound as his hand spanked my bottom while he gave a triumphant, “Yes.”

My top and bra were then pushed up, with him stopping for a second to unhook my bra, before pushing them both up out of his way, leaving my breasts dangling like ripe melons on a vine, melons that he promptly picked, his hands closing upon them.

I was struggling to come to terms with the fact that I’d actually got into the van at all, let alone finding myself in it with Mitch’s cock stuck up me. How insane was I to let this come about? And there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it. Geez, can you imagine Mitch’s reaction if I tried to say no now? He’d laugh himself silly, fucking me the entire time.

Now that Mitch was set he went about having his fun in a robust manner. If asked I’d have guessed he’d be a wham, bam, thank you mam, type of lover, minus the thank you. Instead of that I had a man who was taking his time and enjoying what he was doing.

He drove in firmly, his hands rubbing my breasts as he came. Then his hands would relax and he’d withdraw quite smartly before driving in again, always using a consistent firm stroke to maximise his pleasure. Of course, he might have been trying to maximise my pleasure at the same time, but I suspected not. He was just going to drag this out for as long as he could, relishing each stroke to the fullest.

My bottom was quite naturally bobbing up and down as I pushed to meet him, taking him deep within me, feeling his cock rasping against my sensitive passage, exciting me more and more.

(You know, I’ve always wondered what it would look like to see a woman’s bottom bouncing up and down as she gets fucked from behind. Maybe I could have my husband film us that way so I could see.)

Anyway, ignore that little digression. Mitch just kept pounding away. When I stop to consider it I suppose I can’t really say he was pounding away. He was more driving home with a long smooth stroke, probably reminiscent of a pools player using a cue, with that long shaft sliding smoothly along until it connects with a ball. In this case the balls were at the other end of the shaft, slapping home against my pussy when his shaft could go no further.

I couldn’t believe how long he was taking. It was just a case of him going on and on and on. I found I had this slight problem. My excitement was building up nicely but because he was taking his time with his action he didn’t seem as though he was going to give me that little extra that would push me into having a climax. I’ll tell you this, if he kept going for all this time and still failed to give me a climax I was going to be ropeable. After everything I was going through I deserved a climax.

Finally, finally, he got going with his end game. He suddenly released my breasts, dropped a hard spank on my bottom, and said, “Let’s ride.”

My god. Just like that I was seething with fury. His cock was really pounding in now and I was going to climax, no problems, but would you believe that that swine was spanking me in time to his thrusting, and he was thrusting in at double pace. My poor bottom was taking a real beating.

I climaxed with a sense of great relief, a relief equalled when he also climaxed and the spanking stopped.

He pulled out, leaving me exhausted.

“That was great,” he told me. “We’ll have to do this again sometime. Can I drop you somewhere?”

“No,” I told him as I hastily tidied up my clothes. “I’ll get out here. I don’t have far to walk.”

Do it again sometime? He had to be kidding. (Knowing him, he wasn’t.) I was insane to have let him do it this time. I put it down to my version of going over Niagara Falls in a barrel. You might survive it once but why on earth would you want to do it a second time?

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