Humpet is what she called me, however it isn’t my name. It’s more a term to describe me as a ... species, I guess. I’ve always been kind of lazy but I’ve only in the last year, come to realize it. I say, ‘kind of lazy’ because I often go to a lot of trouble and effort to take the easy way out and do the least actual work. It’s just who I am. I’ve been told a lot that it would be easier to just do things, than to put so much effort into avoiding doing things.

We met a year ago. EI was at the homeless shelter, lined up for a free meal. I’d take the meal but had long since learned that taking a bed was too much effort. The people who run homeless shelters want you to be there at a certain time, answer a bunch of stupid questions and generally pretend that being homeless is the worst situation a person can possibly be in.

When I used to tell them I was homeless because work sucks, they refused to believe me. I’d end up having to answer a thousand extra questions and that was way too much effort. A piece of advice that I’ll give for free, is never tell a homeless shelter that you like being homeless.

Other than that, they want you to take showers and change clothes occasionally as well. Too much effort for me. It’s easier to sleep in a doorway than jump through all the hoops just to lay on your back listening to a bunch of druggies and drunks snore. The one thing I don’t do is drugs. Too fucking much effort.

You gotta get them, then you gotta stick needles in yourself without killing your damn self. Or you take pills. First get them, hope they aren’t a damn laxative or birth control pill, and hope they make you zone out. What a waste of time. Okay, the pill thing is me talking from experience, but still it was too much work. I drink, but I’m not an alcoholic. It just passes the time when I have money.

As a homeless guy, I can just wear a cardboard sign, sit on the sidewalk and wait for folks to give me money. I got standards though. I’m not one of those beggars that drives a beemer at the end of the day. I don’t hassle people for cash at stop lights and I certainly don’t shout abuse when folks ignore me.

I always had a dream and that’s what this story is about. I already said I was kinda lazy. I also said bathing and changing clothes was too much effort. My dream, and it’s one that she damn quickly figured out, is to just have someone do everything for me. They want me to smell nice? They wash me. They want me to change clothes, they do that too. Haircut and beard, ditto. Hell, they don’t want me shitting my pants, they can figure that one out. I never thought it’d come true of course, but then she made dreams into reality.

She offered me five cents a minute to talk with her. Might not seem much, but hell, twenty minutes is a buck. The homeless shelter people expect me to answer questions for free. Remember how I said I sometimes go to a lot of effort to do nothing? Well this was no exception. I went ahead and dreamt up a convoluted sob story that kind of made my brain tired. Turned out all she wanted was my true feelings about my situation.

She took me home for a real meal. She had a car, but ordered an Uber anyway. She was honest about it. Said I smelled too bad to get in her car. Better someone else’s. Someone that gets paid to give rides.

She called me on my claim that I didn’t care if I showered or not, just as long as I didn’t have to do it myself. At her house, we went to the back door in her enclosed yard and she told me to strip. I figured I had her when I replied that it was too much like work. Actually I was really a little embarrassed for her to see me naked. I’m kinda scrawny and built more like a boy than a man. Damned if she didn’t just shrug and start undressing me herself.

Ever had someone undress you? Especially a woman? She could have been a three hundred pound grandma and not a five-two, hundred twenty pound, mid-forty’s, decent looking business woman for all it mattered to a certain part of me. Female is female. The fact that she was the second and not the grandma really didn’t help. When she quickly squatted in front of me, eye level with my belt, all sorts of things went through my mind, not least of which was that she was wearing heels and a short, tight business skirt. I wasn’t in a position where I could see up it, of course, but I certainly imagined what the view would be like.

My belt was efficiently unfastened and my pants dropped, but my dick sure didn’t. It was that quick. My little man had come up to tent my crusty drawers at the mere thought of her squatting so close to me. It stayed that way as she removed my boots and socks, crinkling her nose at the smell. Then the pants came the rest of the way off, one leg at a time.

Embarrassed and with a hard on. I selfconsciously put a hand over the offending body part when she peeled my shorts off. I stuttered out an apology. She just smiled and swatted my hand away, telling me that there was no point in hiding my little problem at that point.

Aside from calling it a ‘little’ problem, seeing my dick didn’t seem to faze her in the least. She just smoothly stood up and peeled off my tee shirt. It had been a while and the shirt actually stuck to my armpits a little. Admittedly, a little gross.

I had to stand there outside and now naked while she fished around carefully in her purse for the door key. At least my damned dick went down again now that her face wasn’t a foot from it. With the door open and the alarm disabled, she invited me in. Maybe I was nose blind to my own body odor, but her house definitely smelled good. Like fresh baked bread and expensive perfume all rolled into a single good smell. I didn’t smell man - you know, that smell of a couple’s home where guys spray their cologne around or something. This house was all woman.

She led me to the bathroom and ran a bath while I just stood there looking naked and stupid. She got it warm and half full before adding fucking bubble bath to the water. I’m a guy. I don’t do bubble baths and I told her so. She just took a step back, whacked me hard on the ass and ordered me into the water. No one had ever whacked my ass before, even as a kid. I was pissed. My head shot around and I looked daggers at her, but she didn’t flinch, just pointed at the bathtub. Feeling humiliated and defenseless, I decided to pay her back for the whack by throwing myself into the water, causing a splash that got her good.

Her blazer and matching skirt took a good hit, which made me grin. The floor got soaked too. I wasn’t prepared for what she did next. I expected a tongue lashing at the very least and more likely that she’d stomp out of the room in a huff. I guess I was even ready for her to whack me again. I wasn’t expecting her to just casual as you like take off the wet blazer and skirt, nor was I ready for her to kneel at the side of the tub and begin washing me, after telling me I was naughty.

She started at my feet which seemed to gross her out the most. Okay, they grossed me out a bit too. I don’t cut my toenails. If I think of it, I’ll find something sharp to attack them with but it had been a while since I’d even taken my boots off much less seen my pinkies - or brownies I guess you’d call them because of the filth. The whole bath was given without a single word spoken. All business.

The feet took a long time to clean and I think I might have ruined at least one wash cloth. Then she washed my legs and didn’t even hesitate when she got to the business end of my groin. She was just as particular there as everywhere else. I thought I was going to cum on her washcloth. I thought maybe I was supposed to or something. I didn’t get to though. She moved on up my body before I did, making me slide down in the tub to cover my upper body in bubbly water.

She washed my beard and hair last. After flipping the lever that allowed the water to drain, I actually got to see a line of scum I’d left around the tub. Next was a fucking shower, as if the bath hadn’t been enough. Turned out that it was worth it though. There was a very distinctive pause while she thought about it, then she turned on the water, remixed the temp to her liking and flipped the lever to make the shower head active.

I was still in disbelief that she’d given me a bath so imagine how I felt when she stood back up while I sat getting rained on in the tub. She was wearing a blouse, tiny panties and heels. The panties had been hidden the whole time by the side of the tub so I hadn’t had much of a chance to stare at them before, but now they were at eye level. I really felt like reaching out and touching them and her nice legs as well, but I was too embarrassed. Or shy. Or both. My little man got hard again in a hurry though.

She helped me to my feet, ignoring the fact that the arm of her blouse got soaked. Water began bouncing off me and going everywhere because the sliding door was open. Then she proceeded to strip naked. An attractive woman took all the rest of her clothes off less than two feet away from me. I nearly came the moment she dropped her bra. She wasn’t doing a striptease or anything, just being very business-like, but the tits on that skinny body woulda put Pamela Anderson to shame.

Climbing into the tub behind me, she had to put her hands on my shoulders to stop me from turning to face her, hard dick or not. Taking up the washcloth again, she washed the back of my neck, my shoulders, back and even my ass. And when I say my ass, I mean I felt her fingers on my actual hole. Humiliated or not, I tried to get my hand on my dick to finish myself off. I tried but got slapped again with a tut-tut sound she made being the first since she’d begun.

When she finished, she stepped closer to me and wrapped her hands around my waist, her tits like pillows against my back and her chin on my shoulder. I’m sure I could feel her actual nipples poking me and her bush tickling my ass. That’s how close she stood. Almost as soon as her fingers wrapped around my dick and tugged me a couple times, I came with a groan and her accompanying praise of, ‘good boy’.

I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to turn around and hug her. I at least wanted to return the favor in some way, but she wasn’t having it. She stopped me from trying to face her but instead climbed out, grabbed a towel and wrapped herself in it while I stood shellshocked under the water, my semen washing down the drain.

She came back to the tub, turned off the water, held out her hand to help me as if I were the lady and she the gentleman. She didn’t even give me the towel she had, to dry myself with. She dried me too. She did make me do one thing myself though. She gave me a new tooth brush and forced me to brush my own teeth. I figured she could have done that for me too, but she made me do it myself while she went to get dressed.so much for full service.