Chapter 1: Mike Hires a Housekeeper

I've known Mike since college. We were roommates for two years, and have been good friends ever since. He has done some crazy things over the years, but nothing prepared me for what happened when he hired a housekeeper. When I got involved it became an erotic adventure that I don't think either of us will ever forget.

I have to admit I have always been a little jealous of Mike. He is one of those guys that can fall into a septic tank and find a diamond ring. Everything in life seems to come easier to him than for most people. He can charm the panties off a young lady just by smiling at her. When it comes to sex, he has the magic touch. I first saw him in action a few days after we became roommates. Mike had asked me to go with him to the library. He needed to do some research for a paper, and wasn't sure how to find what he needed. Some how, Mike had managed to be a junior in college who didn't know his way around a library. While we were there, he saw a cute coed, and while I ended up doing his research for him, he was researching her. An hour later, he had her in his bed, and I found myself, for the first of many times, having to find somewhere to hang out until their little tryst was finished. Ten minutes of talking with Mike, and she was practically disrobing right there in the library. At thirty he is a very happy bachelor with an active sex life. I tried to learn from having a guy like Mike as a roommate, but somehow whatever knack or charisma he had never seemed to rub off on me. We are both good looking guys, but Mike has always been the one that gets the girls. Oh, I have never lacked for female companionship, but I have to work harder at it than Mike does.

I worked hard in college, got my MBA and passed the CPA exam in the first try. All the while, Mike was partying his way to a degree in Adult Fitness, but he still ended up being more successful that I am. He makes about three times what I do. I should know. I do his taxes. And he never has to leave home. His career wasn't something he chose, it just fell into his lap. During his senior year Mike took a course in creative writing. I always accused him of only taking it because he was interested in the grad assistant teaching it (a slim blonde, just Mike's type), but he has always denied it. Regardless, it turned out that he had some hidden talent as a writer. Enough talent that since college he has had a very successful career churning out novels that are somewhere between Harlequin romances and outright porn. He calls them 'cliterature', because they appeal to lonely, horny women. In the eight years since he graduated, he has produced one of these potboilers every year, and invariably they fly off the bookshelves. Not NY Times bestsellers, but they do provide him with a healthy income.

In addition to everything else that came easily to Mike, he is also natural golfer. He had been after me to take up the game for years, and I finally relented and agreed to let him give me lessons. One Saturday morning about six months ago, I drove over to his house to pick him up for one of my lessons at a nearby driving range. Mike refused to let me loose on a real golf course. He said I was a menace to society.

I rang Mike's doorbell. When he answered he seemed to be surprised to see me. "Hey buddy," I reminded him, "don't you remember, golf on Saturday?"

"Oh, yeah," he gathered himself. "Come on in. I'll be ready in a few. I'm not sure if Svetlana is finished yet."

Svetlana? Who the hell is Svetlana? I knew Mike had a never-ending supply of lady friends, but I didn't remember him mentioning this one. I sat down in his living room to wait. A few minutes later Mike came back accompanied by a young lady that I assumed must be the mysterious Svetlana. There wasn't anything unusual about seeing a woman leaving Mike's bedroom, but there were a few things that made this girl stand out. For one thing she was big girl, probably close to six feet, with shoulders and hips to match. She was an amazon, but in a delightful Wonder Woman way, not like a German weightlifter. Neither Mike nor I are very tall, about five-seven or so, and we both naturally prefer petite women. To see him with someone he had to look up to was unusual.

The second thing I couldn't help noticing was that she wasn't dressed like somebody Mike had picked up the night before, or who he had invited over. This girl was dressed more like a handyman, stained blue jeans and a well-worn sweatshirt. But the thing that really caught my attention was her age. She looked very young, somewhere in that hard-to-define sixteen to twenty span. Whatever, she was way too young to be hanging around with a guy Mike's age.

He didn't make any effort to do introductions,. They just walked through the living room to the front door, talking to each other like old friends. I saw him had her some money as he opened the door, and told her he would see her next week. My first thought was, hooker? Nah, Mike had never needed to pay for sex. And she didn't look like a pro. Well, one way to find out. "So, who is that?"

"Come on, we're late. I'll tell you all about it on the way to the range."

As we pulled out of the driveway, I asked him again who the unusual girl was.

"Oh, that's my housekeeper," he casually replied.

"Housekeeper! You don't need a housekeeper."

"Yes I do. I'm too busy to clean."

"No you're not. You're a writer, you can do housework anytime. And remember, we roomed together, so I know you. You're not busy, you're lazy."

"Busy."

"Laaazzzyyyy."

"Oh, whatever, Jerry. Look, I can afford it, so I hired her."

"How long has she been working for you?"

"Let's see... about four months I guess."

"Did you build a cute little maid's room out back?"

"She's a housekeeper, not a maid. 'Maid' sounds sooo old money, and nineteenth-century. She only comes over for a couple hours on Saturday mornings. She cleans the bathrooms, dusts, and vacuums, that's all. You know, stuff I don't like to do."

"What made you decide to look for a mai... sorry, housekeeper?"

"I actually wasn't looking for one. It's kind of a favor for a friend."

"Huh? What friend."

"Steve." Steve was the realtor that had helped Mike find his house. They had hit it off, and had been friends even since.

"So, does Steve run a domestic staffing service on the side?"

"No, dumbass." We're really very close, which is why I let him get away with calling me things like that. "Steve and his family are hosting Svetlana. She's an exchange student from Russia. She goes to school with Steve's daughter Carolyn."

"So she's in high school?"

"Yeah, she is spending her senior year here."

"You still haven't got to the part where Steve turns her into a domestic slave."

Mike gave me a dirty look and went on, "Svetlana is a very determined, responsible young lady. She felt like she needed to work to help pay for some things she wanted instead of just sponging off Steve's family. She was going to go look for a job in a fast-food place, but Steve and his wife didn't want her to do that, so Steve came up with this housekeeping job. Apparently she did something like that back home. He called around to some of his friends, and asked them to hire her, as a favor to him."

"So how much does this cost you?"

"Fifty bucks a week."

"Fifty! Damn, Mike, I can go down to the bus station and get you five housekeepers for that much."

"Yeah, I know. Like I said, it's kind of a favor to Steve. And she is good, she works fast and cleans everything well."

I know Mike as well as anybody does, and I smelled a rat. He still seemed a little defensive about the whole thing, and he had blushed a little when I had first asked about her. Mike never blushes, even though there have been lots of times when it would have been appropriate. I also noticed that when he had handed her the money, it was almost like they were holding hands for a few seconds rather than him just dropping the bills in her palm. Knowing his weakness for attractive girls, I was suspicious.

"Mike, please tell me you're not banging the maid. That would be too much like one of your stories. 'I Made Love to My Teenage Russian Maid'. Yeah, that sounds like something you would come up with."

"I told you, she's a housekeeper, not a maid," he protested, but he was blushing again.

"You didn't answer my question, so I'm going to take that as a yes. What are you thinking? You can't be screwing high school girls, idiot."

"Don't make it sound so bad, she's almost eighteen."

"It's never good when the words 'almost eighteen' appear together in a sentence. Kind of like 'painful urination'."

"Or 'premature ejaculation'," Mike added.

"Or in your case, 'vice cop'. Come on Mike, get real. Guys in their thirties shouldn't even be flirting with girls that age, much less screwing them. So how did this happen? Oh, why do I even ask; of course, it was the good ole Mike charm. You probably seduced her without even putting any effort into it."

"It wasn't like that," he protested. "I didn't seduce her."

"Aw, Mike, don't tell me she's hooking a little on the side. Is she polishing your furniture for ten dollars and draining your plumbing for the rest?"

"Good lord no, it's nothing like that. She's a nice kid."

"Kid. That's an interesting choice of words, a little Freudian slip maybe?"

"Don't be an asshole."

"Hey, I may be an asshole, but according to the laws in this state, I think you are... what's the phrase... contributing to the delinquency of a minor. Hell, for all I know, you might even be considered a child molester. Ever hear of statutory rape? Hope you and Bubba get along in the Graybar hotel."

He chose to ignore that remark. "So, do you want to know what happened, or not?"

"Sure, buddy. Like Hillary told Bill, I want to hear the whole story of what happened between you and that girl."

"OK, this is kind of a strange story, but I swear it's all true. It started out about a month after she started working for me. I was washing my car one Saturday when she showed up. I told her to go ahead while I finished. By the time I was done, I was hot and sweaty and wanted to take a shower. I went to see if Svetlana had finished cleaning my bathroom. I couldn't find her at first, which was kind of strange. She usually makes a lot of noise when she is working. I finally peeked down the hall and saw her in my computer room. She had her back to me, so she didn't know I was there. She was looking at my computer, and I knew right away that I had screwed up."

"A not unusual occurrence for you, but what did you do this time?"

"I had been browsing one of my favorite porn sites before she came over, and I had forgotten to log off or even to clear the screen. She was looking at the pictures on the page I had left up unintentionally. While I was watching, she used the mouse to browse through some of the other pages on the site."

"Dude, in the first place, haven't you ever heard of screensavers? And what are you doing looking at porn on a Saturday morning? That's like an alcoholic having a drink as soon as he wakes up. You just can't get enough, can you?"

"Do you want to hear this story or not?

"I'm all ears."

"Actually, a lot of you is mouth. But whatever, where was I?"

"You had just seen Svetlana discover your hobby."

"Oh, yeah. So I figured I would just sneak away and pretend that I hadn't seen anything. No harm, no foul, right? But I hadn't noticed that Fluffy was sitting behind me." Fluffy was Mike's cat, and yes, we have had several discussions about how wrong it was for him to have a cat named Fluffy.

"I took one step back and tromped right on her tail."

"Svetlana?"

"No, Fluffy, Mr. Allears. She yowled, and Svetlana turned around and saw me. I thought the only thing to do then was face up to the situation. I figured she would be as embarrassed as I was, and that we would just stumble through a few 'I'm sorry... no, no, I'm sorry' routines. But that's not how it turned out. She didn't seem to be bothered at all by the pictures on the screen. Instead, she smiled at me and said, 'Mr. Burns, you've been a naughty boy'."

"She actually said 'naughty boy'? I can't wait to hear what kind of witty reply you came up with."

"I was too busy trying to get my jaw off the floor to talk. Before I could say anything, she said, 'I had a boyfriend back home who liked to look at sex on the internet. I think he liked to make love to his hand more than making love to me. That is why I did not mind leaving him behind when I came over here'. "

"Wow"

"Yeah, wow. I told you this was a weird story. And it gets stranger."

"I'm gonna ask one more time, are you sure this isn't a chapter in your new book, and you're just trying it out on me to see how it works?"

"I told you, this is real. Hell, you said it yourself; I can't help blushing when I think about her. Is that like me?"

"Point taken, carry on."

"Then she said, 'What about you, Mr. Burns? Do you like sexy pictures better than the real thing? What if I did this?', and Jerry, so help me God, she took off her blouse and bra and dropped them on the floor. I stood there like a zombie while she unzipped her jeans and stepped out of them. Her panties followed a few second later. So there she was, standing in front of me, totally nude. 'So what is it, Mr. Burns, the real thing or... Miss Big Tits here?' she said as she pointed to the monitor."

"Ah, the plot thickens."

"Yeah, that wasn't the only thing that was thickening. But I still couldn't say anything."

"Not even something sensible, like 'put your clothes on, young lady. This is highly improper behavior'?"

"No, actually, I usually don't talk like a character out of a Dickens novel. Anyway, I just stood there, trying to make sense of what was going on. I decided that the only polite thing to do was take my clothes off too."

"You are nothing if not a gentleman, my friend. And then she got on her knees and gives you a blowjob, like one of the porn flicks you are so fond of, right?"

"You still don't believe me, do you?"

"You've got to admit, this is far-fetched, even by your standards."

"Why would I make up a story this wild?"

"Because that's how you make a living?"

"In that case, why would I waste such a good story on a freeloader like you?"

"Good point. OK, back to Svetlana and you standing there like Adam and Eveski."

"By now I was ready to just throw her on the floor and give her what she so obviously wanted. But ever since I had the hardwood floors installed, I haven't been much of a floor-fucker. Too many friction burns."

"Mike, you're the only guy I know who could use a term like 'floor-fucker' and make it seem normal."

He ignored me. "I thought about using my computer chair, but it rocks too much, and the arms might get in the way. I considered bending her over the desk, but it was covered with notebooks and stuff, and I didn't want to mess them up. Then I looked at the two extra chairs from my dining room set that I have stored in that room."

"Yeah, I remember when you bought that set. I asked why you needed eight chairs, because you don't have seven friends."

"Why do I put up with you? Anyway, they're nice and sturdy, and don't have any arms. Svetlana saw me looking at them and got the idea. She grabbed my wrist, and led me over to the nearest one. I sat down, and before I knew it she had straddled me. From there, it was one quick flick of her hips, and I was buried in her to the hilt."

"I like a girl that knows what she wants. So then she fucked your brains out right? Cuz you sure are acting like an idiot."

"Jerry, I've never made love to a woman that had the moves she does. She would push herself up until just the tip of my cock was in her, then do some crazy rotation thing with her pelvis as she slowly lowered herself back down. It was kind of like she was screwing herself onto me."

"Mmm, maybe that's where the term comes from. Remind me to Google 'screwing' later."

He went on like he hadn't heard me again. He was getting good at that. "Then when she was all the way down, she would grind her hips on my lap for a few seconds before she pushed up again. I tell you, it only took a few minutes of that, and I was ready to pop my cork. I felt myself cumming and tried to push her off. I had no idea if she was on the pill, and didn't need a little Russian Mike on my doorstep."

"Oh, then you started thinking," I scoffed. "Did it ever occur to you that you were screwing a seventeen-year-old?"

"Everything just happened too fast. I didn't even think about the age thing until later."

"That'll sound good in your defense testimony. So, you splattered all over her stomach, right?"

"Nope. When she felt me trying to push her off, she said 'Don't worry, Mr. Burns. I am on the pill'. It was too late by then anyway, I could feel the cream rising to the top, you might say."

"You writer guys have such a way with words."

"Anyway, I was spurting into her, but she didn't stop grinding her hips into me. It almost felt like she was milking me for every drop I had. Then I realized that she probably hadn't had an orgasm yet, and was trying to catch the golden ring before my maypole melted."

"Now I know why your books aren't stocked in the Literature section."

"OK, I'll cut to the chase. She used some amazing internal muscular control to keep my interest up long enough for her to get off. There was no doubt that she did too; she's a screamer. How do seventeen-year-old Russian girls learn stuff like that?"

"Um, long cold winters?" I suggested.

"Anyway, after she settled down, she got up, calmly put her clothes back on and finished her cleaning, like nothing unusual had happened. When she left, I tried to give her some extra money, but she said she didn't do it for that. She said 'I just like sex, and when I see a guy I like, sometimes I just can't help myself. And I like you, Mr. Burns'"

"So then your conscience kicked in and you realized what you had done, and swore never to touch her again, right?"

"Well, not exactly. I tell you Jerry, once you've had a taste of Svetlana, it becomes an addiction. "

"So, every Saturday now, the vacuum cleaner isn't the only thing that sucks? By the way, does she do oral?"

"We haven't gone there yet. We don't even kiss. It's just a quick strip, a little petting, then in the sack. And it's not every Saturday, but often."

By now we had arrived at the driving range. For the next hour we both concentrated on the awful state of my golf swing. We drove back to Mike's place in silence. It didn't seem like he wanted to tell me any more, and I didn't know if I wanted to hear it anyway. I was having a hard enough time trying to deal with the picture in my head of my buddy being ridden by Svetlana, without him adding any other tidbits.

Chapter 2: I Hire Svetlana

During the next couple of weeks, I couldn't get the images of Mike and Svetlana making love out of my mind. Well, actually I deleted Mike's image and replaced it with mine. Yeah, as much as I had ragged on my buddy about his underage mistress, I was intrigued by the idea of getting it on with her. In addition to being young, attractive, somewhat exotic, and apparently hotter than a chili pepper from the devil's garden; she possessed one other element that made her all but irresistible to me.