First She Cleaned My Place And Then She Cleaned My Pipes

Around 1979, I found a new apartment in the Lower Lonsdale area of North Vancouver. Although the buildings were older and the area was somewhat seedy, the complex looked to be well-cared for, the rent was very cheap, the location was convenient to the Sea-Bus for easy access to work downtown, and most of the amenities you’d need were within a couple of blocks. However, when the manager showed me the apartment, she warned me the people moving out had a couple of big dogs and the place would need a good cleaning before I could move in which the complex owners would take care of. I was to start moving in the next weekend and the manager phoned me at work to make sure when she could expect me, as she would be doing the cleaning herself since the cleaning firm the owners used had canceled at short notice.

I arrived early in the Saturday afternoon and unloaded some suitcases and boxes from my car - some friends were going to help me move in my furniture on the Sunday. I unlocked the apartment door and found the manager finishing up the cleaning in my living room. The apartment was good-sized and she’d done a really good job of cleaning the place. It was warm out and she was a bit sweaty, so I asked her if she’d like a beer from the case I’d picked up on the way over. She said sure, I put the boxes and suitcases inside while she finished the living room, and cracked a couple of beers. She was a cool older lady and took me up on my offer to roll a joint as well. She was a short, fairly heavy-set woman with big tits, hips, and ass, and a confident air about her.

We smoked the spliff and knocked off the beers standing in the living room. She asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you?” She was staring at my crotch as she spoke so, taking a bit of a chance, I undid my belt and lowered my jeans and underwear. She started to reciprocate, by opening her shirt and pulling her big boobs out of her bra. I opened one of the suitcases, pulled out a dressing gown, and laid it out on the floor while the manager removed her pants and panties.

We lay down together and soon I was burying my face in her lush breasts. I moved my face to her very hairy cunt and found myself totally turned on by the musky, slightly sweaty aroma. A few minutes of eager tongue-work and she came, humping her pussy uncontrollably against my mouth. She asked if I had a condom and naturally enough, I didn’t. She pushed me flat on my back and started sucking my cock - quite shallowly but with some skill. To my chagrin, she said her jaw was getting sore from being stretched so widely. “But don’t worry, I’ll give you a nice handjob,” she said.

I was a bit disappointed after the promise of the oral ministrations she’d given me, but an orgasm is an orgasm. She took my hard cock, dripping with pre-cum, in a firm, full-fist grip and started to slowly jack my meat. She clearly knew what she was doing and would stop the stroke when she sensed I was close to ejaculating, pulling my head to her wonderful tits while we rested. After she edged me several times, she went in to finish me off.

She slightly tightened her grip on my throbbing cock and sped up her jacking, as she leaned over on her side with those big tits hanging down and jiggling over me. I felt a big cum building up in my perineum and she, seeming to sense my increasing excitement, caressed my drawn-up balls with her other hand. I exploded, powerful spasms of pleasure making me fire several spurting ropes of thick, warm cum which she directed over her boobs and belly. The pot we’d smoked and the resultant distortion of time seemed to draw out my sensations of cumming. God, I was spent!

After we came down a bit, she cleaned the cum with a dry rag from her gear, dressed, and left after kissing me on the cheek. I only lived there for a few more months before moving to the nearby shared apartment that was the scene of my “Helping out a friend” story, but enjoyed a few more hot sessions with the apartment manager.