Nis 01

How I Got a Maid

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(Many thanks to my editor, BlueEye5ftAngel, for all the good advice.)

My mouth gaped open as a yawn escaped. My hand reached up to stifle it as I shook my head to break up the cobwebs. The judge unzipped her robe and waved to me as she opened the door of her robing room.

“Get home safe, Mr. Torres,” she said, her smile revealing cigarette-stained teeth.

“Thanks, judge, enjoy your weekend,” I replied as I closed my briefcase, slinging the black leather satchel over my shoulder.

“Another night court in the books,” I sighed as I walked down the back stairs of the courthouse.

After a couple of years on the job, I started using the back stairway to leave the courthouse after night court. Sometimes the families of clients you weren’t able to get released from jail might hang around to register complaints. At the end of day court, when plenty of people are around, I didn’t find it worrisome, but at 1 A.M., when the streets are almost deserted, and darkness is only occasionally interrupted by streetlights, an angry family member or friend can be much more intimidating.

I pushed open the side door of the big gray courthouse. I was happy to see the rain that had been pouring down since the middle of the afternoon had stopped. The streets glistened with recently fallen moisture and the street lamps gave the air a hazy aura. I stepped to the corner and looked down the street, waiting for a cab to take me home.

With a shopping center across the street from the courthouse, the street in between was choked with cars during the daytime. Now, however, the cars that passed were usually gypsy cabs in search of fares or weary night shifters on their way home to a warm bed. Droplets of water kicked up as each car rolled by. A pickup truck pass too close to the sidewalk, and I couldn’t get out of the way before it splashed me from my neck to my feet. I was slapping water off my overcoat when a loud horn blast made my head snap up.

A silver, Lincoln Town Car sat, idling, three feet away from me. I walked quickly, lifting the handle on the rear passenger side door, and leaned over to slide inside. Dropping my satchel on the soft leather seat next to me, I leaned back.

“One Hundredth Street and Eighth Avenue, please.”

“Sure thing,” the driver said, pulling away from the curb when the light changed from red to green.

I rested my head on the back of the seat and closed my eyes, trying to let the night representing everyone from gun-toting robbers to subway fare evaders fade away.

“Long night?” the husky voice asked from the front seat.

I noticed a Hispanic accent and opened my eyes. Twisting my head to the side and looking closer, I saw wisps of what looked like light blonde hair peeking out from under a brown leather cap.

“No longer than most night courts, which is to say, too long,” I answered, stretching my arms out in front of me. “How long have you been out tonight?”

“Close to eight hours now,” the driver said as the car reached the end of the street and turned left onto the bridge between the Bronx and Manhattan. “You a lawyer?”

“Guilty,” I said ironically. The driver snorted as the car rumbled over the steel and cement bridge. “What about you?” I asked as I sat up in my seat. “I can probably count on one hand the number of female cab drivers I’ve had.”

“My dad drove a cab. I would ride along with him sometimes on the weekend.”

“Cab driving is not usually the kind of business parents pass down to their children, especially daughters.”

“My dad put me through college with his cab. Now that I’m in grad school, I need to pay the rent. I’ve been driving since I was sixteen, so it made sense to me.”

I nodded as the cab reached Eighth Avenue and headed downtown. Chatter from her walkie-talkie filled the space between us. As the streetlights and neon signs rolled by, I tried to catch her reflection in the mirror.

“What are you studying?” I asked, now awake and intrigued.

“U.S. History.”

I shifted to my left and looked into the rear view mirror. As the cab rolled to a stop at a red light, I managed to glimpse what looked like wide hazel eyes.

“Going the academic route?”

“Don’t know,” she sighed as the light changed and we rolled forward. “I’m assisting some professors with classes now, while I write my thesis, but I’m not sure I want to spend the rest of my life teaching a bunch of eighteen to twenty-one year olds.”

“I didn’t think college was so bad,” I said as I leaned forward tying to get a closer look at her face.

“You were never trying to teach you,” she laughed.

We sat next to an all night convenience store with a bright yellow sign, waiting for the light to change. Suddenly, a loud chirp filled the interior of the car. The driver reached down, pulling out a silver cell phone out of the center console, checking the caller i.d.

“Dammit,” she huffed. “I’m sorry, I have to answer this,” she added with exasperation, flipping open the phone before I could say anything.

I leaned back ankara escort against my seat.

“Why are you calling me?” she spat out as soon as she opened the phone. “I told you to stop calling me! What? What? Are you drunk? Dammit, stop calling me!”

Cars honked and pulled around the cab. I rubbed my hand across my face trying not to feel too awkward.

“I don’t care about that shit! You can have it!” Just stop calling me!”

She snapped the phone shut and threw it. The phone bounced against the passenger side window, hit the headrest of the front seat and fell to the floor. Oblivious to my presence behind her, she leaned back against her seat, covered her face with her hands, and started crying.

I was completely confused as to what I was supposed to do now. Cars were still honking and pulling around us, and my driver was now hunched over, face in her hands, openly sobbing.

Finally, after a minute, I reached out and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah,” she screamed, almost jumping in her seat.

I flew backward, banging my head against the window.

“Oh God, oh God, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she cried, turning around in her seat as I rubbed the side of my head.

“I’m o.k.,” I chuckled, “Nothing a stiff drink before bed won’t take care of.”

“Oh, God, I am such a mess,” she choked out between sobs.

I reached out, gently putting my hand on her shoulder.

“Listen, I don’t know your name . . .”

“Carmen,” she choked out. “I’m Carmen.”

“Carmen, I’m Manuel.” I slid forward in my seat. “You don’t know me, but I would like to help. My apartment building is only a few minutes away. Why don’t you take us there, park the car and come up to my apartment. I can make you a cup of tea and you can sit and get yourself together.”

She looked at me warily.

“You want to make me some tea?”

“Truthfully, I’d like to get home. You’re probably tired, and it might be better if you didn’t have to drive for a little while.”

She leaned her head back against the headrest, brushing the remaining tears from her cheeks. “I have been driving for hours,” she said. “I would like a cup of tea.”

“Good, it’s settled.”

I smiled gently and sat back. The light from the all-night deli reflected on her hazel eyes, and the corners of her lips turned up before she turned around and got the car moving again.

A few blocks passed before I decided to take a risk.

“Was that your boyfriend?”

“Ex-boyfriend,” she said with an edge in her voice. “Major asshole, as he will forever be known. I came home from school early one night last week and found him fucking my roommate.”

“Shit,” I whistled.

“Big shit,” she said. “I broke five plates before he ran out of the apartment in his boxers.”

“You hit him with any?”

“One,” she laughed. “In the back of the head. My roommate moved out two days later. Now I need to make up half the rent and the asshole keeps calling me. Half the time he’s apologizing, the rest of it he’s screaming like some macho dick head.”

“He fucked up,” I said. “Big time.”

“Bet your ass. Is this the street?”

“Coming up here.” I pointed and Carmen turned right onto One Hundredth Street.

“It’s in the middle of the block, there’s an open space right in front.”

The car slid into the open parking space. Carmen left the engine running and turned around.

“I’m probably crazy for even considering this,” she said.

“Listen,” I responded, “the odds that I’m a serial killer or crazed sex maniac, on his way home from working eight hours in night court, have got to be pretty slim.”

She laughed and I finally saw her smile, under the halogen safety lights in front of my building. Her teeth were pretty, probably whitened, and so straight there had to have been braces involved at some point.

She reached back and turned off the engine. Then she called in to her taxi base, telling them she was feeling ill and packing it in for the night.

“All right, but if you do turn out to be a sex maniac, I swear I will cut off your balls.”

“You’ve totally warned me,” I laughed.

I opened the door, picked up my bag and hopped out of the car, watching as she stepped out of her side and locked the car.

“You leaving the phone?” I asked; pointing to her cell on the floor of the car.

“The asshole is the only one who is going to call at this hour and I’ll just erase the messages.”

She walked around the front of the car, and I finally got a clear view of her, under the lights in front of my brownstone building. About, five-foot six, she only came up to about my collarbone. I could see more wisps of light blond hair coming out from under her brown driving cap Her skin was creamy, paler than I expected from her accent. She was wrapped up in a blue fleece jacket, which complemented her big hazel eyes. She walked up to me and stood close enough that I could feel the heat of her breath.

“I’m guessing Puerto Rican from your accent, but escort ankara your skin’s a little light for that.” I said, looking into her wide eyes.

“Cuban,” she answered with a grin. “Born in Miami, moved to New York when I was five years old. I’ve had the accent all my life.”

“Well, wherever it comes from, it’s cute,” I said as I turned and walked up the stairs to the entrance.

“Don’t tell me, you live on the top floor, right?” She asked with a little grin.

“It’s only four floors,” I chuckled. “I consider it good exercise.”

“Well, I think walking from the front door to the elevator is all the exercise I need,” she said as I unlocked the outer door, gallantly holding it open for her. As she walked past, I checked out her ass, which was held snugly inside a pair of faded blue jeans.

“You have an excellent body for someone who gets so little exercise.” I said as I admired the view from behind.

“Ooooo, nice one,” she laughed, not even pausing as she walked down the hallway. “You must get lots of girls with lines like that.”

I chose to let that one go, opting instead for the pleasure of watching her hips sway from side to side as she walked. Her ass was full and round, and I got a quick jolt of pleasure from the idea of biting it. Some more of her hair started spilling from under her cap, falling down around her shoulders.

“All the way to the top?” she asked as she reached the foot of the stairway.

“Don’t worry, Carmen,” I said moving behind her. “I’ll catch you if you faint from exhaustion.”

“Good to know,” she smiled before turning to walk up the steps.

I stepped around her as we reached the top of the stairs and led her to my apartment. I unlocked the door, pushed it open, and flipped on the living room light.

“God, what a mess,” Carmen said as she walked inside. She stepped over a pair of jeans on the floor, pulled a couple of sweatshirts off one my dining chairs, and plopped down. “When’s the last time you cleaned this place?”

“I clean every time my mom comes over,” I said defensively as I locked the door. “I make her give me two days notice when she wants to come over, so I can stuff my junk in the closet.”

Carmen snorted. “What a good son.”

“I don’t like her to feel like I can’t take care of myself.” I chuckled before changing the subject. “Now, I have a couple of different teas. You like chamomile?”

“I would love to have a beer, if you’ve got one.” She stretched her arms above her head, then unzipped her blue fleece jacket, taking it off to reveal a pink long sleeved t-shirt which fit snugly around a flat belly and a pair of nicely sized breasts.

The public defender in me wanted to lecture her about drinking and driving, but I bit my tongue. I walked over to the refrigerator and opened it, reaching down to the second shelf, removing two bottles of Dos Equis. I popped the tops and handed one to Carmen as I sat down at the table.

“How long did you go out with this jerk?” I asked as she took a long pull on her beer.

“A year,” she said, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “A year of my life wasted.”

“Well, you’re out of it now.”

She rubbed the bottle against her lips. “You know what the worst part of it is?”

“No, tell me.”

“That bastard is the last guy I fucked.” She laughed bitterly taking another long drink. “The night before I found him fucking my bitch of a roommate, I fucked that asshole and I still feel dirty.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” I said, reaching over, grabbing her hand. My fingers brushed against her wrist and I felt her pulse racing.

She looked up at me. Her eyes looked a little wild.

“I know what I need. Do you know what I need?”

“What’s that?”

“I need to get fucked. I need to get fucked good and hard. I need a guy to throw me down and fuck the shit out of me and make me forget that lousy shit.”

She got up and slid over to my chair. I moved back and she climbed on top of me, straddling my legs and rubbing her body slowly up and down against me. Her breasts pressed against my chest and I felt her nipples growing stiff. She began pressing her lips around my face. My hands slid up, across her back, grabbing a handful of her hair as her lips slid down my neck. I groaned as she bared her teeth digging them into my neck. I yanked her head back and crushed my mouth against hers, thrusting my tongue in her mouth, grinding my body against hers. My cock was throbbing like a jackhammer by now and she didn’t hesitate to ratchet up the torture, grinding her pelvis into mine, making me throb even harder.

Grabbing the bottom of her t-shirt, I yanked it upwards. Carmen leaned back, letting me pull the shirt off completely, revealing creamy, pale skin and firm, round C-cup breasts spilling out of a black lace bra. I wrapped my arms around her waist and leaned forward, burying my face between her tits. She giggled and shook her body as I kissed her tits. I sucked each of her nipples through the black lace, making her moan loudly, grinding harder ankara escort bayan against my cock.

“Fuck, that feels good.” she moaned breathily. “Take my bra off, baby. Suck my titties.”

My hands slid back up, unfastening her bra. I slid each of the straps off her arms, flinging the bra towards the couch. I kissed my way down from her collarbone to her breasts. Her nipples were bigger than pencil erasers, and encircled by areole that were dark as chocolate and bigger than saucers. Dragging my tongue around each of her breasts, I grabbed her right nipple between my teeth and bit.

“Ooooooooooooooooo,” she moaned, twirling her fingers in my shoulder length black and silver hair. “Bite it harder, Papi! God, my pussy is so wet!”

My teeth clamped down harder on her bud, while I rolled the other nipple between my fingers.. My cock felt like it was going to burst through my pants as Carmen squealed and bucked in my lap. Finally, I released her tit from my mouth.

“Strip.” I ordered. “Show me your sexy body.”

She obediently slid off my lap and stood on the floor. Backing away from me slowly, Carmen stood in front of the couch. She lifted each of her legs in turn, peeling off her sneakers and tossing them to the floor. She bit her lip and undid the fastener on her jeans, then she licked the tips of her fingers and slid them down inside her waistband. Her face flushed red as her fingers slid round inside her pants.

“Mmmmmmmmmmm yes, so wet,” she moaned before she pulled her hand up and dragged her fingers over her belly, wiping her juice coated fingers on her creamy skin.

She pulled the zipper down slowly. Making little grunts each time she tugged, she dragged her jeans down to the floor, revealing black lace panties that matched the bra she had just discarded.

“You like my panties, baby?” she whispered as she rubbed her fingers over the lacy front.

I nodded slowly, my tongue circling around my lips. I rubbed my hands over my thighs, having resolved not to touch my now almost painfully hard prick, afraid I might cum in my pants.

Carmen sat down on the edge of the blue sofa and spread her legs wide, giving me a perfect view of her lace covered pussy. She made circles over the soft fabric, while her free hand squeezed her huge nipples.

I watched as she rubbed her pussy faster through her panties. As her moans grew louder, she reached down and slowly slid her panties off, spreading her legs to reveal a glistening, clean-shaven pussy. She lifted the panty up, rubbing it against her juicy slit, and pushed the soft fabric between the folds of her slit, inside her juicy love hole. She moaned louder as the panty disappeared in between her labia. When she had stuffed the lacy panty completely inside her self, Carmen reached up and pinched both of her nipples, groaning with excitement as her ass lifted off the couch. She sat back down and ground her ass against the cushion while she squeezed her tits in the palms of her hands.

She smiled as her hands dropped back between her legs. She stuck her fingers between her labia and slowly withdrew her panty,, then stood, holding the panties bunched up between her fingers, she walked towards me.

“Open your mouth,” she commanded.

I complied without question.

She stood in front of me, her skin starting to glisten with sweat. She leaned forward and grinning evilly, stuffed the wadded panty into my mouth. I was overwhelmed by the salty sweet aroma. I closed my mouth, clenching the fabric in my teeth.

Carmen got close to my ear and whispered, “Suck on that like a good boy, while I see whether you got anything worth sticking inside me.”

She dropped to her knees. Lifting each of my legs in turn, she yanked off my loafers, and tossed them to the side. She pulled off each of my socks, then she reached up, undoing my belt, unfastening my slacks. I rubbed my tongue against the panty she stuffed in my mouth, trying to suck off every drop of juice on the soaked black lace.

Carmen yanked on my slacks and I lifted my ass off the chair so she could slide them off. Her hands slide back up my legs, pressing her palm against the bulge in my boxers.

“What are you hiding in here, Papi?”

I winked at her in response. She gripped the waistband and pulled my boxers down. My cock sprang free, rock hard, eight inches long and four inches around, already leaking precum from the uncircumcised tip.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, as my cock hung in front of her face. She circled the shaft with her hand. “I can barely hold it,” she said breathlessly.

Slowly, she began stroking my prick. Pulling back the foreskin to reveal the head. She leaned in close and swept her tongue all around the head.

I threw my head back and moaned loudly, still tasting the salty pussy nectar I was sucking off her panty. She jacked my cock a little faster and flicked her tongue across the slit. She smiled, sucking the head between her lips. I almost jumped out of my skin as the intense pressure of her mouth kicked my lust into overdrive. Carmen rubbed the head around her lips while continuing to smile.

“I’ve never eaten an uncut dick before, Papi, I’m gonna have fun,” she whispered before opening her mouth and filling it until she had swallowed half my cock.

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