The married cleaner [m/f] Long!

Okay so the first story went down well, it feels great, kind of addictive so I’ll carry on. Even though I have been over these events in my head since they happened all that time ago, writing it down here is almost like reliving it.

About 7 years ago I did a stint working in a furniture store, not a small place but a big open warehouse type affair. The place was mainly on the ground floor but had a second storey roughly a quarter of the footprint which sat above the staff room/offices etc. This is where I worked, selling beds and bedroom furniture. I know what you’re thinking, cliche “fuck someone out of hours on one the beds” type thing. Not this time. The cleaners were in every morning, they started before us then left off an hour and a half after we clocked in. The cleaning company seemed to go through staff like there was no tomorrow, but eventually we got a bloke and a woman who settled and seemed to be in it for the long haul. The woman cleaner was your typical female attention-seeking personality, loved to flirt with most of the male staff, very giggly and the jokes were often a bit smutty and full of innuendo. She was in her lower 40s, brunette, always well tanned, below average build but with fantastic breast,s which I discovered were fake but who cares right? She was married to a fella who worked offshore, two weeks off, two weeks on, and it was obvious the weeks that he was away, as her attention seeking ramped up significantly.

Upstairs of the shop used to get cleaned last, so I got quite used to her hanging around as I set up, straitened beds and organised the displays each day. We ended up talking a lot, she always used to dress stupidly for someone doing a cleaning job, but looking at that cleavage every morning was often the only thing that got me through the day sane. It became more and more obvious that she was out to get her claws in me. She started hanging around more and more, and starting to talk about how the blokes at the other place they cleaned before coming to us were always making pervy remarks at her. Typical tactics for trying to make someone jealous, although a bit immature for a 40 something I thought, each to their own. She even started saying my boss had been saying “inappropriate” things to her in the mornings before we all turned up, but I saw through the ruse. At this point I kept my options open and did not bank on anything coming of it all, I’m pretty level headed that way. Yeah she’s married, but she’s doing all the work, if nothing happens I’m no better or worse off. Upstairs had various doors that took you behind the scenes, down some stairs and out onto the shop floor, some used more frequently than others by staff. I often used to pass her awkwardly on these stairs as she went about her job, I knew she was doing it on purpose so we would brush past each other awkwardly. A tension was definently building. One morning she was doing her rounds but had tears in her eyes, I did what any one would and asked what was up. Her reasons were pretty shitty but I went out on a limb and offered my shoulder to cry on along with my mobile number if she ever needed to talk. Phones were banned from the shop floor but a few of us ignored that. It was less than half an hour before I received my first text, “Come and find me x”. I’d already watched her carry along dusting around the room and slip out out of the lesser used access doors, this one leading straight out to the warehouse. As always I was the only member of staff up there, so casually made my way in that direction. Slipping through the door, she was stood with her back against the wall, there was an awkward pause for just a moment before she yanked me to her, grabbing a handful of my shirt, the door closing behind. She was a great kisser, we made out passionately but it soon turned frantic. She scrabbled at my belt and ripped open my trousers, our tongues in each other’s throats. I was insta-hard, she grabbed a handful and started stroking me slowly within my boxers. She was gripping firmly, it felt amazing. She started to moan, not a low, sultry moan but almost squealing like an overenthusiastic teenager trying too hard to impress. It worked! Conscious of the noise and lolsing my job, this encounter lasted no more than five minutes before we had to stop and carry on like normal, myself sporting an awkward boner for longer than I care to think about.

This became a regular thing over the next few weeks, but we grew more daring each time. Still only kissing and groping, but more intimately and for longer periods of time, really testing what we could get away with. Our first out of work meeting happened the next time her husband went away. I got a text during the day asking me to meet her in a car park that was on my journey home. I was a dark evening and as I pull up she beckons me over, she drives a huge 4×4 that her other half bought her. Standard small talk is soon forgotten as she leans over to kiss me, as usual things quickly get heated. She pulls out my cock and hops up onto her knees on the driving seat, leans over and gobbles me up before I know what’s hit me. She’s amazing at sucking dick. Amidst my groans of pleasure I do my best to explore her body from where I’m sat. I pull up her top and fondle her huge tits that hang down beautifully between us, for the first time getting a real feel for how big they are. Definitely fake, but incredible. I pull my hand out from under her and rub down her back, grabbing at her arse which is pretty firm for a lady her age, just a bit of wobble. I begin firmly rubbing my fingers up and down between her buttocks and as far down to her pussy as I can reach. Her crotch is hot and clammy, I can feel the heat and wetness trying to seep through the tight leggings she’s wearing. She pulls back for some air, only to tell me that she doesn’t even suck her husbands dick and hasn’t done so for years. Right now I don’t care how full of shit this statement might be, it’s music to my ears. We go back to furiously kissing, she’s moaning while clutching at my cock as I roughly squeeze together her boobs and full my mouth away to bury my face. Two incredible words follow, that even as a man in my mid-twenties, I had never actually heard other than in a porn: “Fuck me”. We scramble between the front seats and fall into the back, both tugging off our tops, I hook my fingers over her leggings and panties, yanking them off together. She is laid back in the corner against one door, facing me diagonally, and with one knee up on the back seat and the other foot planted in the foot-well, I have somehow accidentally discovered the perfect position for fucking within this particular vehicle (there’s quite a science to finding the perfect spot, that’s for another time though). Her pussy is sopping wet, not a tight fit (If you’re asking, I’m fabulously average in that department) but she’s had children, so you never can tell what you’re going to get. I don’t care though, anything that maximises my chances of giving this married woman the pounding of her life, I’m all in favour for. Taking full advantage of the comfortable, effective position, this is how we remain as I smash away like my life depended on it. She is sqealing like a girl half her age again, possibly exagerating but I take it as a sign that I’m doing something right. I lasted about 20 minutes as I recall, I mutter to her between groans that I’m going to come, easing off with the thrusting slightly. Without a word she grabs my arse with both hands and pulls me in tight, I’m fighting against her to muster a few last pumps before holding myself as deep as I can inside her, shooting my load. “See you tomorrow!” We get dressed and clean up before departing, I wish I could of seen my face on that drive home. There’s a smugness and incredibly powerful feeling anytime you leave after such an encounter, thinking about that cum seeping out as she goes in the other direction.

As you can imagine the story has a somewhat bittersweet ending. We met up in various car parks for fun on quite a few occasions after that, probably over a 6 month period. I even fucked her on her son’s car bonnet when the 4×4 was in the garage. however, it transpired that this was not the first time she had cheated on her husband, I found out through the grapevine. I’d be lying if I didn’t use this information to make myself feel a bit better about the situation. As far as I can make out he never did find out about this time though, I never got a beating let’s put it that way. Things got quite awkward at work too, she started bringing in food for “the staff” but it only happened on days that I was there and never if I was out of work for a week. People got suspicious and the whole situation was wearing a bit thin. I got a new job (not because of her) which was two towns over, she started turning into a real bunny-boiler and randomly driving around where I now worked when her husband was away. This killed the fun aspect of it all, she tried almost desperately to throw herself at me on various occasions, but even the young, horny man inside me started saying no. Thanks for reading, I won’t get a chance to check the grammar until later so bear with me.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/56gmpy/the_married_cleaner_mf_long