The Slutty Servants of Walter Carmichael - Virgin Clean-Up


I sighed as I scrubbed at the floor in Mr. Carmichael’s room. This place was a complete disaster! I couldn’t believe that Mr. Carmichael would dare engage in sex with Alexa. . . while he was married! Poor Mrs. Carmichael, who I heard walked in on them midway through. I leaned back on my legs, and looked around the room. There were semen stains everywhere. . . on the walls, the carpet, and especially the bed. And the worst thing was, they wouldn’t come off!
The door creaked open, and I looked over. Then I blushed furiously, and looked back down. This was a problem of mine: whenever I got nervous or anxious or em-barrassed, I would blush.

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   I tried to cover it with my brown hair, but it wasn’t thick enough. The reason I was blushing was because my all-time crush, Spencer, had just come in. Like me, Spencer worked for Mr. Carmichael as a servant.
“Oh. . . I thought I was working here alone,” he muttered.
I didn’t look up. “No, I’m helping,” I said quietly.
Spencer was really hot. He was tall and on the thinner end, but I’d seen him with his shirt off one time when he spilt lemonade on it, and he had abs and nice pecks. He kind of looked like a giraffe, too, but a damn hot giraffe. His brown hair was grown out perfectly. .

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  . not too long, not too short. . . like everything else about him, he was perfect. He had big, blue eyes that sparkled beautifully, and it was easy to get lost in them.
I was such a normal girl. Brown hair, green eyes, average attractiveness. . . but one thing I did pride myself in was my breasts. Big, but not too big. I never really bother-ed to remember the exact size of them, except for when I was buying bras. That wasn’t very often, though. .

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  . my mother tended to buy them for me for my birthday. So how could a girl like me compare herself to a guy like Spencer?
Spencer got down next to me, and looked at my wide assortment of chemicals and cleaning products on my tray. Sponges, a rag, a bottle of lemon juice, bleach, etc. “Wow. . . you’ve got a lot here, don’t you?” I nodded, and he sighed. “I’ll go get some regular soap. ” Then he tried to get up by pushing up on his hands from my carpet. While he did, his crotch was lifted into the air, and I could see. . . a bulge.
When he straightened up, he looked down at me curiously, and then walked away, whispering something that I couldn’t tell.

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   I wanted to hear what he said, though, so I stood up, too. “What did you say?” I asked him. He turned, and shook his head at me, then kept walking. “No, I want to know what you said,” I told him angrily. Had he noticed me checked out his bulge?
He raised an eyebrow. “You were checking out my dick. ”
I gasped. “I was not!”
He nodded. “Yeah, you were. ”
“No, I wasn’t!” I said defensively, starting to blush.
“You want to fuck with me,” he told me. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. And he was smiling. I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes. Did I want to fuck with him? Yes, most definitely.

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   Would I ever tell him? No, most definitely not. But before I could answer him, he rushed forwards. . . and kissed me.
This wasn’t your peck on the lips. No, this was a full-out make-out. And he seem-ed like he was. . . really into it. Like he wanted something from me. . . and I think I knew what it was.

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   But before I could do anything, he stopped and strode over to the window. He pulled down the golden string, and the blinds shut closed. Then he turned back to me, a smile on his face. He bit his lip, and then approached me again. I could feel myself getting hotter. . . but a good hot.
“Now, where was I. . . ?” he asked quietly. He wrapped his hands around my waist, and made out with me again. It was rough, fierce, and. .

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  . hot. Without really thinking, I wrapped my arms around his neck. Slowly, we started backing up to Mr. Carmichael’s bed. Of course this was dirty, this was wrong, this was horrible. . . what if Jolene caught us? Or Mr. Carmichael? But then, as Spencer started to lay down on the bed with me, all of the worries went away. Would Mr. Carmichael really notice if there were just a few more semen stains on the bed. . . ?
Spencer smiled, breaking off my lips for a minute.

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   “Wow. . . so fast?”
“It’s Amy,” I told him. I knew he’d forgotten my name.
“I know your name,” he told me. “I’m just saying. . . I hardly know you. ”
“Really? Because I’ve been keeping my eye on your for a while now,” I told him, as he laughed and started to take off my shirt. I rolled on top of him, as he pulled off my shirt. Then he helped me pull of his. We discarded our shirts at the top of the bed. Then, we took off his pants.

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   I was shivering as I pulled down his boxers. His penis was about seven inches long, and tilted slightly. But was it thick! I reached down and stroked it lovingly, and he pressed his hand over mine, helping me.
“You’re a virgin,” he told me. Again, it wasn’t a question.
“Yep,” I told him.
Then we pulled off my bra and my pants. I was strangely satisfied by the way he looked over my breasts and smiled. Then, suddenly, he flipped me over and laid over me, holding himself up in a plank over me. He kissed my neck, slowly, and I felt my skin tingle when his soft lips left it. He went down my neck to my breast, and kissed my breasts. But he didn’t stop there. He kissed all the way down my stomach, and then stopped at my vagina. He grinned, before he licked me out.
I groaned as his powerfully tongue licked me out.

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   I opened myself up for him, and he just pushed his tongue in harder. I couldn’t believe that I was really here with Spencer, who I’d been waiting for for ages! Who cared if it really was in our boss’ room? Or that we were supposed to be cleaning? I didn’t care if Jolene walked in right now and fired us, as long as I had this memory with me.
When he was done, he moved back up next to me, and I reached out for his penis. I rubbed it up and down, and he moaned with pleasure. I could feel the sticky pre- cum seeping down towards my hands, and kept rubbing until he was panting. Then, when I stopped, he slid up towards the pillows, and sat down. “Please. . . have a seat,” he told me, gesturing.
I grinned, and turned around in front of him. I lifted myself off the bed, over him, and waiting while he aligned his penis head with my vagina. Finally, he was ready. “Let’s do this,” Spencer said, and I pushed down. His penis extended into me, and I gasped at first.


   It felt. . . kind of painful. “Don’t worry, it’ll just hurt the first few times,” he assured me. “Unless you’d like to stop. . . ?”
“No,” I told him. I got up again and pressed down. I could feel the full extent of his penis pushing into me. It started to feel. . . pleasurable.

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   When I pushed down, he pushed up, and started to take the control. “Faster. . . ” I pleaded him. We started to move faster. This was the best feeling in the world. . . I could feel his penis throbbing inside of me. Then, just as he was about to cum, he moved out of me and ejaculated on the bed in a gush of white. Then he picked up again, and we started to climax.
Then he ejaculated again. . .

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   inside of me. It was the best feeling of euphoria in the world. Then I rolled off him, and lay my head on his chest. We were panting. I sighed, and glanced up at him. His eyes were closed. Then he reached out and put his arm over my shoulder.
“You know, Amy. . . I heard Mr. Carmichael was with his wife tonight. ”
“Then are we to keep at this all night?” I asked him curiously.
“Hell yeah,” he told me.
I sighed, and got up.

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   This would be a long, beautiful night.




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