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I swear, nothing is hotter than a Texas summer – especially inside homes without central air conditioning. Which is why, when I opened the door to my client’s apartment and could have sworn my hair rustled from the heat wave that washed over me, I knew I was in for a long afternoon. With my bag of cleaning supplies in one hand and my mop and broom tucked under that same arm, I pushed the door all the way open and stepped into an oven. How had they not thought to crack a window before leaving, I wondered!
I immediately felt sweat on my forehead as I took in the space. They’d paid for deep cleaning on two bedrooms, the kitchen, and the bathroom; and honestly it was quite a bit cleaner than I’d expected. “You know the football team lives in those apartments”, my friend and co-worker Juliana had told me. “They are notoriously filthy – you really should charge more!” As I looked around, it was clear that this apartment was in fact inhabited by members from the football team – I saw playbooks scattered around the coffee table, at least three footballs were immediately visible in the living room, and the TV was idle on the main menu of some football video game. I wasn’t much of a gamer, so which one was on the screen meant little to me, but as a Texas student I was quite the Longhorns fan, so I tiptoed over to the open playbooks and closed the covers. There wouldn’t be any leaks because of me!
I gave the apartment a quick pass to assess what I was in for. The bathroom needed work, the kitchen was quite messy despite no evidence of any actual cooking having ever taken place, but the two bedrooms weren’t bad. A few dirty clothes thrown about and unmade sheets were far from the worst I’d seen. I preferred to clean my way from the back of the house to the front door, so I started in the rear bedroom and began tidying.
I was as surprised as anyone when I found myself smelling one of the workout shirts at the foot of the bed, nestled between the sheets. I don’t know what I’d been expecting – was it going to smell fresh? Rancid? But it was neither, actually. I could tell whoever had worked out in this tank top had done so wearing deodorant, because I detected a faint hint of Old Spice or something generic; but mostly it just smelled *good*. It smelled like a man whose chest I wanted to fall asleep on, whose breath I wanted to rhythmically raise and lower my head, and, apparently, whose long day I wanted to soak in the aftermath of.
_Lucia, what is wrong with you?!_ I suddenly screamed in my head. This was ridiculous – I’d been standing in this unknown man’s room for five minutes already, wasting time smelling his workout clothes and not at all getting paid since this job was not hourly. And it was HOT – the sweat on my forehead was beginning to drip. I shook my head and resolved myself to focus. Quickly, clothes began to pile up in a corner, destined for the laundry machines, before I prepared to vacuum the floor.
As the minutes passed, the room slowly evolved from its prior chaos into a neat and tidy space. The bed was made, my client’s clothes were washed and now in the drier, and I amused myself thinking about how I might need to wash my own clothes along with the other bedroom’s load because I was really starting to sweat through them. My white tank had large, quickly expanding wet spots that clung to my skin. My shorts were too thick to show anything yet, but I was starting to feel damp and stuffy down there.
*Fuck*, I thought – after this I was supposed to meet two friends for brunch at our favorite coffee shop. There was no way I had time to go home and change, and somehow the possibility of this apartment not having central air hadn’t occurred to me, so I didn’t have a change of clothes. Well, I guess I was going to throw my tank and shorts in the final load after all!
Next up was the kitchen, and the sweat really started to flow as I scrubbed and mopped the floor. When a single drip tumbled between my eyebrows, down to the tip of my nose and onto the floor, I knew I had had enough. I stood up, pulled my tank top up over my shoulders and slid off my shorts. A rush of adrenaline coursed through my body at the riskiness of this decision, but I reminded myself that the client had filled out their class schedule on the intake form and wouldn’t be home until after dinner. That was specifically why they’d wanted cleaning today. So, I told myself it was totally fine that I was standing in an unknown person’s apartment in my underwear, dripping with sweat, but the tingles and goosebumps that kept shooting across my body said otherwise.
Ten minutes of deep cleaning later, I was really happy I’d taken off my clothes, because my sweat wasn’t slowing down at all. I didn’t mind, of course – this was nothing I didn’t experience every day at the gym. In fact, it was kind of nice to finally be sweating like this in just my own skin. I imagined I’d miss this the next time I was doing box jumps and felt the wetness of my shirt clinging to my skin, bahis sitesi almost constraining my movements. Still, as pleasant as it was to sweat nearly naked, I did a lap around the apartment and cracked all the windows. It was honestly way too hot in here!
As I cracked the last window, I heard a man’s voice from outside. I couldn’t see from whom it came, but it was deep and intriguing and – pleasant. The man was also talking to someone, something about not knowing what to do with an unexpectedly free afternoon. Oh god, I realized! Was my client home early? Had they forgotten they hired cleaners today; or maybe they just didn’t expect those cleaners to be in their bra and panties standing by a window in the back of their home! My mind raced – my clothes were in the washroom on the other side of the house. If I ran, I might be able to make it and get dressed again before they got inside. My pulse was thundering in my ears but I overcame my fear and darted out of the second bedroom, through the living room, and toward the laundry machines on which my drenched clothes sat. Except, I only made it into the living room before the front door opened and four unbelievably large men took their first step inside. I froze mid-stride, my back leg literally suspended in the air, and made terrified eye contact with the front man holding the key.
“Umm, what the hell?!” he asked incredulously. The three men behind him were staring at me as well, all slack-jawed and speechless.
I forced myself to swallow despite my sudden cottonmouth. “Hi”, I eventually said nervously. “I’m the cleaner!” I said in a fun, perky delivery to lighten the situation. After all, this man probably thought he had a home intruder!
“Bro, this is your house cleaner?!” one of the men exclaimed. “What the fuck!”
“Oh my god, house cleaning!” the man in front said. I was right – he’d completely forgotten. “Wait, do you need a minute? I’m so sorry, my professor got sick and canceled class.”
I swallowed again, my mouth somehow both overflowing with saliva and simultaneously drier than the Texas countryside. “No no no, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have done this. It was just so hot in here and I was sweating…”
“Bro it IS hot in here,” one of the other men in the back said with a laugh. “You cooking something on the countertop with this heat? Bro what are you doing?”
I laughed a bit inside. Why was it that men felt the need to start every sentence with “Bro”? Was there some prohibition on NOT starting sentences that way? Now feeling a little less nervous – after all these men were not giving me bad vibes at all – I physically settled into the space where I was standing. My heartbeat started to slow, my mouth felt less dry, and I’m sure my skin grew less flushed.
“Calv, man – your cleaner is hot as fuck,” one of them said. He then looked me directly in the eye and said, “Anyone ever tell you that?”
Welp, so much for my skin not feeling flushed! I gulped loudly, my body exploding at the compliment. Also – Calv, as in Calvin Williams – this was the Longhorns’ starting running back! No wonder all of these men were so giant – they were definitely football players! I couldn’t believe I hadn’t known what the most famous name on campus actually looked like until now, but football helmets could hide a man’s face. I gulped again, Calvin and his three friends were all *problematically* handsome. They had muscles in places I didn’t know muscles grew, and to a man their faces seemed sculpted by some Greek god of arts and beauty.
Eventually, I realized a few seconds had passed and the room was remaining silent. Wait, was that a real question? Were they waiting for me to actually answer it?
“I… guess so?” I said quietly. People obviously have a general sense of how attractive they are or aren’t, and I had not skipped through life until my sophomore year of college unaware of all the male attention directed my way. So I suppose, yes, I knew I was “hot as fuck”, as Calvin’s friend had said.
The four men finally finished entering their own apartment and closed the door behind them. One of them walked around me to the side – still maintaining a respectful distance – and said, “Bro, look at that ass! No, that’s not right. That ain’t fair!”
I blushed again. My ex had referred to this as my “under-butt”, the part of my cheeks that, somehow unbothered by gravity, extended straight backward from my hamstrings to begin the curved, arcing journey upward toward my waist. My breasts were only medium-sized at best, but I had received innumerable compliments on my butt.
“Thank you,” I eventually managed to mutter. I was suddenly having trouble keeping a level head. I felt like I was floating above my own body, so powerful was the adrenaline coursing through my veins. These men were handsome, extremely fit, giving me compliments, and, maybe most strikingly, were somehow already treating me with more respect than anyone else I’d ever dated. Down there dünyanın en iyi bahis siteleri was no longer just tingling, it was fucking throbbing!
“Baby, you mind if I… touch it?” the man to my left asked, his eyes locked on my ass.
“Flip, what’s wrong with you?! She wants to put her clothes back on,” Calvin said assertively.
Flip – oh my god, that was Phil Johnson, the star wide receiver! He was projected to go near the top of the NFL draft this April. Oh my god, how was this happening? How was any of this real?!
“No it’s okay,” I suddenly heard myself say. Wait what?! Did I just say that?? “You can touch it” – were the next words that left my mouth on their own volition, as far as I could tell. I was NOT the kind of person who would say that!
Flip walked up to me slowly, his body swaying but his eyes remaining locked. He stopped two feet away, and right as I kinked my neck to look up at him, he knelt down. Only five foot four inches, I was looking way up at Flip’s eyes; but as he lowered himself I found his face directly in front of mine. I stood, completely frozen, my eyes wide and drilling holes straight through his, as his hand slowly began moving and inched its way across the two foot gap between us.
I gulped again, and then felt his fingers brush my left ass cheek. He gave a little squeeze, and I LOVED the feeling of his fingers digging into me. Okay, maybe I was the kind of person who would say that!
“Bro, it’s all muscle”, Flip said in awe. “Girl, you work out?”
“Yeah,” I eventually said breathlessly. He’d finally looked up, and now we were making fiery eye contact as I eventually added, “Every day.” I knew I wasn’t exactly being my most eloquent self right now, but my body was a sea of adrenaline and my brain was exploding!
“This too much,” Flip said in disbelief.
With our eyes still locked in an iron grip, I slowly reached out my own hand and touched Flip’s body. I ran my fingers over his abs and unsurprisingly could feel each individual ab in his six-pack like a stone on his body. “Oh my god, your body is…” I said, but my voice started to fail.
“We work out every day, too”, Flip mused. His hands moved like serpents then, each of his palms reaching around me and forcefully grabbing one of my ass cheeks. In a second I was flying into the air as he effortlessly hoisted me up. My legs wrapped around his core, my arms rested peacefully on his shoulders, and I continued to feel his fingertips digging into my ass. In fact, two of them – one on each hand – were doing a little exploring and were moving back and forth across my completely drenched panties. I was so fucking wet in his arms that I started to worry about dehydration.
Flip leaned his head in to kiss me and our lips met eagerly. His stubble brushed my face, and like lightning, struck my body and lit yet more fires. I attacked his lips, pulling on them with my own, sliding my tongue across his. And then I felt it. Flip’s hands were still securely holding my ass, yet two other hands unclasped my bra. I pulled back from Flip in surprise and saw the other three men around me. I stiffened my arms on Flip’s shoulders to hold myself up firmly and let my bra straps fall down to my elbows. Calvin reached out and pulled them around my arms and off my body entirely.
Once again, I completely froze at this new escalation. My breasts were on full display for four men I’d just met – two of whose names I still didn’t even know. I had never been more excited or terrified in my life.
“Absolutely beautiful,” Flip gasped, looking down at my chest. My breasts were small, but round and perky, and I thought they were perfect. I knew some men preferred big boobs above all else, but I had on good authority that many other men found my breasts perfect, as well. And apparently, Flip was one of them.
“Sit her down, bro”, one of the other men said.
Flip and I moved in unison to return my feet to the floor. I stood then, surrounded on all sides by men a foot or more taller than me, whose legs alone weighed almost as much as me, whose own bodies were pouring sweat from the heat and the absolute fucking insanity of this moment – and my knees nearly buckled.
“Aren’t you hot in all those clothes?” I asked, playfully looking each of them in the eye.
“Undress me,” Calvin said matter-of-factly, and a shiver shot down my spine at the raw *authority* of it.
“Yes sir,” I whispered, and reached out to grab the bottom of his shirt. He lifted his arms in the air, and I pulled up his shirt. Only, I wasn’t remotely tall enough to clear his elbows. “A little help, please,” I said with a laugh, and Calvin, who couldn’t currently see me, pulled his top the rest of the way over his head.
“Jesus fucking Christ”, I breathed. Calvin’s body was made of iron or I was a talking leprechaun. His abs were deep, casting thick shadows on top of each other. His chest looked like an anatomical drawing of idealized kaçak siteleri pectoral muscles pulled tight over his shoulders. His biceps were thick and cut in deeply above his elbows, which then widened back out into strong forearms. And his trouble lines – oh god his trouble lines. His shorts were all that remained, and I hungrily grabbed them and pulled down, making sure to also capture his underwear in my fingers.
His dick sprung out from underneath his underwear as the elastic band finally passed its tip. He was already half mast and growing fast. “Oh my god…” I gasped. I had never seen a dick even half this big before!
“Calv got a big one,” one of the others laughed. For a second I thought this was an odd thing to say, but then I remembered how much time these men had spent in locker rooms together, changing before or after games and practices. I guess they’d grown numb to seeing each other naked.
“Sure does. I just wonder if it’ll fit anywhere,” said the other man whose name I had yet to learn.
“It’ll fit!” I said immediately. I had no idea if that was true, but I was absolutely dying to find out.
They let out a playful “Ayyyyyy!!!” in unison at my response, and soon three sets of hands began to gently run up and down my breasts, back and ass. Only Calvin, the star I had watched for 3 years carry my favorite team to countless victories, kept his hands off me. Instead, his eyes flipped back and forth between my own and his dick. The message couldn’t have been clearer.
I took his dick in my hands and gently stroked it, but my skin was too clammy to smoothly glide across him. He was pretty sweaty, too, so I knew even a brief handjob wasn’t going to feel good. I made a suctioning motion with my mouth to pull forward the very, very thick saliva currently building up in its back, opened my lips, and let it rain down onto his cock.
“Bro this is your CLEANER!” one of the other men shouted in disbelief. “What the fuck is happening, bro?!”
“I’m fucking all of you. That’s what’s happening,” I said, then dropped to my knees and took Calvin’s cock into my mouth. Their earlier curiosity was immediately proven valid – his dick did not comfortably fit in my mouth. Still, I opened my jaw as much as I could and did my best, dancing my tongue all over him. It was hard to keep my teeth off his dick, but god damnit I was not going to fuck this up, so I managed.
Fingers looped through the bands of my seamless underwear and pulled them down to my ankles. I helpfully stepped out of them, planting my feet wide apart to allow literally anything to happen next. I wasn’t looking, I had no idea what was happening behind me. My pussy had never been half this wet, so despite them not really having done anything to warm me up, it was as if we’d already had the best foreplay of my life.
Two hands grabbed my waist, and I tensed for what would come next. To my surprise, I felt myself lifted high into the air, but swinging as if my own hands on Calvin’s hips were a hinge. I held onto him for dear life, his cock still in my mouth, as my waist and legs were lifted behind me to a height of at least six feet. I stiffened my core to remain straight in this position and tightened my hamstrings to keep my legs straight and angled up behind me. To my shock, my toes brushed the ceiling above me. *What was this crazy invention?!*
And then I understood their intent as a warm tongue licked my pussy. I moaned heavily into Calvin’s cock, which was basically the only thing I’d done with it since getting lifted into the air.
“Don’t stop, you were doing great,” Calvin said.
“Mhmm,” I muttered unintelligibly, and resumed sucking his dick. Well, again, whatever sucking-adjacent thing it is when someone is too big to fit in your mouth, your hands are completely occupied holding onto their waist, and your own body is elevated above you, sending your blood rushing to your face. I’m not sure it constituted a blowjob, but his unfathomably hard dick stayed perfectly erect and pointed right at my face, so I basically kissed its enormous tip.
Hands began to grope me, squeezing my breasts, and then more hands yet danced between my back, ass, and legs. I almost felt bad for the fourth person because they were getting the least exciting action. Of course, I had no idea who was where, other than Calvin being in front of me.
“Put me down”, I said suddenly and urgently. The man holding me complied immediately, and I turned to my right to face the fourth man who had only been able to touch my backside. “Strip,” I snapped at him, and you would not believe how fast that man got naked. I wasted no time taking his cock into my mouth, and luckily for my jaw, he was markedly smaller than Calvin. I’m not going to lie, his dick was still large enough that ten out of ten women would brag to their girlfriends about it, but it wasn’t an impossible anaconda I had zero idea how I would ever accommodate. This man I could truly perform for, and so my right hand swirled up and down his cock as my left tickled his balls.
“Are you fucking joking me!?” he exclaimed loudly enough that I was certain we could be heard on the street through all the windows I had opened. “Girl, do you strip or something, too? You got an OnlyFans? What the fuck!”
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