She pushed her rag a short distance behind her, took the other rag from me, then retrieved the third from the soapy depths of the bucket. She turned and laid all three out along the floor. After making sure they were all set at the right distance and fluffed up properly, she laid down across them, like they were some makeshift bed. She raised her legs in V-shapes, then stretched out her arms and drew me down on top of her. As I was sliding a little on the wet tiles, I was a bit clumsy about getting in just the right position. But I managed to get more or less right while Liana stretched out her hand, stroked my cock gently, then guided me into herself.
I was so horny by now, I almost came within seconds of entering her.
But Liana somehow arched her hips rather acrobatically, thrusting my cock into a new position that held off ejaculation. I looked down into her lovely face in surprise and admiration. Any thoughts I had had that she might be an innocent short on useful experience completely disappeared.
Her pussy felt fantastic, especially in the position she now had me wedged into. It was moist and warm and wonderfully tight, and we felt like a perfect fit together. If anything, I was the innocent here. I whispered that I thought this would be even better in the bedroom.
At this, she just giggled warmly. “But we have to get your floor cleaned first. This is how we get to all the hard-to-reach places.” Aha! Those “hard-to-reach places.” I wondered if that was a phrase they learned at Indonesian maid school.
I was also wondering if she knew what she was talking about when she started pushing with her feet, propelling both of us along the floor. We would glide along the slick, sudsy surface, twisting slightly, her pussy rubbing my cock deliciously, my cock deftly stroking her pussy. Although I was on top of her physically, she was clearly on top of the situation, directing our slippery voyage along the floor, or the rubbing together and thrusting of our respective pleasure packs.
After a short time, I discovered how I could direct our movements a little myself, using my knees to get short, thrusting jerks, then giving a push along the floor with my toes, sending us sliding along a few feet, still locked together.
A couple of times, she would say she’d missed a spot. And then she’d start sliding back, her hands and ass rowing us backwards. She would again start to move her luscious ass from side to side, then raise her hips slightly and swivel. I’d go crazy. So would she. She’d moan, “Oh yes, I think we got it this time, that hard-to-get spot,” and then give out that little syncopated squeal of hers that I found such a turn-on. So I would answer, “Let me give it some thorough rubbing, to make sure we’ve really got it clean this time.” And then I’d thrust myself down into her lovingly, again and again.
We moved all around the kitchen, shaking the table, knocking over a couple of chairs. A few times—yeah, I think it was three, but I like to believe it could have been four or five—Liana would suddenly sail us along a wall or into a corner. She’d be pinned there and suddenly thrust her hips back and forth energetically, reaching orgasm after about ten seconds. She’d clutch me by my neck, maybe pull my hair and moan in the most wonderful way, then slip into a mode of release with a deep smile. On the last corner stop, I joined in, my cock going at about five throbs a second, my semen flowing into her in full, rich jerks. We lay there on the floor for maybe another few minutes, wiped out and absolutely ecstatic. This, I realised, is what sex was supposed to be when they first came up with the idea.
After, like I say, a few minutes of still lying there locked together, Liana looked up at me with a slightly sad expression and said she had to hurry back upstairs to look after her auntie. I nodded just as sadly, and said I’d help her get ready.
Ironically after all that sloshing around in soap and water, we both needed to take a shower. Which we did together, of course. We also washed our hair, which was drenched in streams of detergent suds. Afterwards, as Liana dried her luscious body with a towel, I started to get at her hair with the hair dryer. When she finished with that great bod, she dropped the towel and took the hair dryer from me to finish the job. At one point, I took the dryer back from her, switched it to cool, and pointed it towards her pubic hair. After a few rounds with the dryer, I reached down, said, “Let me check that it’s really dry there,” and started stroking the bush. By this time, I myself was already as hard as a graphite rod, and I started to gently insert my middle finger up inside her. “The hair’s fine,” I noted, “but I think this is a little wet here.” She nudged me back gently and tsked.
“Oh, Sir Jeffrey is very much horny today. But I have to get back to my auntie or I might get in really trouble. We’ll be back to check on the floor in a few days, though.”
For the next two months, my kitchen floor was kept stunningly clean. Liana and I would attend to it at least once a week, sometimes even two or three times, depending on how often she could sneak out of her place and down to mine. It sparkled, that floor. I never realised the happiness I could feel just having such a sparkling floor to look at.
Usually, we’d proceed the way we had the first time, but sometimes Liana would ask if she could get on top. I would agree immediately; I learned while at business school how important it is that both parties be able to see things from the other person’s position.
I must admit that lying on those sopping rags was not the most comfortable of positions, but it was more than a fair trade-off for experiencing Liana’s additional skills and seeing the ecstasy she could achieve from above.
She’d mount me gently, then start pumping, sort of navigating our course around the floor. The best part of this arrangement was being able to look at her gorgeous tits as they dangled in my face. Okay, I’m probably biased, but they were absolutely beautiful with their warm, light brown tone highlighted by the thick, almost purplish nipples.
From below, I could reach up and take her breasts into my wet, sudsy palms, massaging them gently as she pumped her groin energetically on my cock. I’d start at the bottom, just stroking them with a pair of knuckles from both hands, then spread to full palms, taking the breasts first from the sides, then working my way to the top, then back down again.
Then I’d press my thumbs against her stiffened nipples, twirling them about while the rest of my fingers stroked the top half of her breasts. While this was going on, Liana would go crazy, pumping wildly and bringing herself to one, two and who-can-count-any-more orgasms. Her long, almost weeping squeal of rapture was the most fantastic thing I’d ever heard, and I’d often just grab her ass and join her in the rapture, sweeping into screaming orgasms.
The only problem with her up above was that a few times, we’d get so caught up in the heat of passion that she’d lower her tits right to my face.
Instinctively, I’d raise my head a bit and start sucking on those gorgeous melons-only to get a rich, soapy taste filling my mouth. I’d then start choking and spitting out what I’d just sucked in and we’d have to separate and take a little breather until I recovered.
After her first couple of visits, I started giving her little presents every time she came down to clean. At first, they were fairly simple—some new sexy underwear, a box of chocolates—just small tokens of my appreciation.
Before long, they got more elaborate—jewellery, a nice bag, designer underwear (none of which looked like ice kachang). As my little presents became more and more generous, Liana grew even more zealous in her cleaning. Sometimes the two of us would do the floor two or three times at one go, making it immaculate. Then she’d jump up, say she was late, rush in and shower, pull her clothes back on, give me a hurried kiss goodbye and rush out.