I have a houseboy.

He was going to vacuum my entire apartment wearing my black lace panties. I stood him in front of my dresser and laid out three pair, reached around from behind him and grasped his giant cock in my hand. “I’m going to let your cock pick which pair it wants to wear, like one of those metal detectors. It’ll let me know.”

He laughed incredulously. I was dead serious. His cock picked the middle pair.

And then he proceeded to clean my house. I took a picture and he said I had to find a way to put it on the internet. I told him I’d do my best.

The last room he cleaned was my candlelit bedroom. I’d been skipping from room to room, beaming, slightly pink from my first time in the sun this year. He’d noted I looked like a kid in a candy store. Indeed, I was.

On my bed, I languished in my tangled sheets as he moved the machine slowly back and forth. I imagined it was his cock in my sheath. Slow, steady, deep. He finished and we grabbed wine glasses and spent all of 30 seconds on the couch before he said we should go lie down for a spell.

Naturally, I acquiesced.

In my room, on his back, we laughed about what he’d just done. I stroked his bare member and pulled my dress off in one motion. I had on nothing else. I don’t remember how it came up, but I was then in my closet rummaging for my tie. “I love wearing ties,” I told him. I found it, slipped it over my head and let it dangle between my heavy breasts.

“Mmm, I like that,” he murmured.

I trailed the end along his stomach, splayed my fingers through his chest hair, licked the precum from the helmet of his cock, engulfed the rest in my hot mouth. I licked and sucked and we chatted in between his moans of pleasure. He found the tie and hauled me up and I mounted him and sank down slowly for a bounce or two before he flipped me over and pummeled my insides.

I drenched the joints of our bodies and cried out. “God, I love how your pussy feels,” he breathed into my mouth as he kissed me.

He flipped me again onto my stomach and began to rail into me, my buttocks slapped against his thighs softly. He grabbed my hair for purchase and yanked my face up out of the mattress. I gasped and cried some more. Then he grabbed the tie from behind, slipped it in my mouth and rode me like the mare in heat I was. He wailed on my flanks with one hand, held my head high with the bridle in the other. I ejaculated each time his hand met my skin.

Then he pressed my face down into the wine-colored sheets and pistoned into me some more. I rocked back and pivoted the way I know he loves. He was close, I could hear it in his pants and grunts, I clenched hard on him. Almost there, and then he slipped out and punched the bed with his cock and cried out in pain.

“Ahhhh, fuuuuck!” he lamented. “I think I half came all over your bed and broke my cock!” I lay panting on my stomach for 30 more seconds before I had a suggestion.

“Why don’t you put it back in? My pussy will make it feel better.”

He seemed to agree and he impaled me for a few minutes more.

And then we talked and laughed for two more hours. He complained about the women he kept dating. No life experience, no ambition, no direction, not intellectually interesting or stimulating. He basically was saying, “Not you, Hy,” but I’ve traversed that impasse. It was nice to hear, but my heart did not flutter like it would have days earlier. “You’re beautiful and interesting and ambitious, you’re smart as fuck and have so much life experience.” Naturally, TN, naturally. Moving on.

When he said it was time to go I helped him find his shorts and kneeled on the bed beside the candle, the tie dangled down my body. He noted how it almost reached as far as my pussy and kissed me again.

Ready for business.

We made no plans for this week deliberately. He said he hates making plans. I agreed to do it his way this time, though it’s frustrating. I also plan on fucking as much as I can this week. I don’t have any idea how often it will be with him.

Control feels good. And so do clean carpets.

A 40-something single mother who writes honestly about sex, body image, D/s, relationships, her nervous tics, and how much she loves to fucking fuck. She also likes to show you her tits.

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32 thoughts on “I have a houseboy.
  1. Thanks Hy for the raunchy wake up story to get me going at 5am this morning. I laughed out loud when you said you’d see if you could put his pic on the Internet !! If he only knew! Nice man meat too.

  2. Hy, you wear that tie well. If only more women would sport a tie like you do. I also agree with cruel, sounds like you’re his alpha model. He’s going to be hard pressed to find someone great as you- and I mean that one =)

      1. yes – he would have BIG problems if that did happen. btw -Normally, men in women’s underwear creeps me out. His is the first that hasn’t. Might have something to to do with the fact I don’t even notice the damn underwear after a second or two lol

        1. Yeah, seriously. That pic doesn’t even do him justice. It was so goddamned hot to see his cock — all this masculinity — in a dainty lace sling. MMMM! And he was rock hard when we were picking out pantie!

  3. I love both pictures, especially in the context of my recent post on underwear. But I suggest you tie the tie a little shorter next time ;-)
    (And my cock loves the thought of your insides being pummled!)

  4. it looks SO HEAVY…like a club. It could easily become an obsessional thought! How beautiful and fortunate you are My Hy in the Sky! (yeah, I’ve been repeating The Mantra…maybe it will work…not yet I guess.)

    Grosses bises,

      1. Well, I’m not a fan of cocks in lace panties, but that is far overwhelmed by my appreciation of women wearing nothing but ties. Thanks for sharing THAT! :)

  5. It sounds like you are making an effort to pull back emotionally. Let him dangle for a change. The whole no making plans thing is bullshit. It implies that he’s going to be looking for someone more “eligible” to date. Then, if he isn’t successful, he just assumes he can come over and play with you.

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