Last summer, I got hired to house-sit for a wealthy family in Miami. Their son, a cute 18-year-old with that cocky high school swagger, was supposed to stay out of my way. But that lasted all of two days. I’d catch him sneaking peeks at me every time I bent over to clean. I knew what I was doing, wearing those tight shorts that barely covered my ass, pretending not to notice the way his eyes followed every move.

One afternoon, I caught him in his room with a huge stash of weed. Instead of scolding him, I suggested we share it. We ended up in the backyard, passing a joint back and forth by the pool. That’s when I let my hair down and took off my top, showing off my curves. His eyes widened, and I could see him trying (and failing) to hide the bulge in his shorts.

“Got a problem down there?” I teased, straddling his lap. He mumbled something, cheeks flushed red, and I decided to take control. Slowly, I started grinding against his cock, watching him struggle to keep his composure. That’s when I pulled down his shorts and took him in my mouth. He was groaning and trembling, and just as he was about to cum, I stopped.

“Not yet, baby,” I whispered, leading him to the living room. I spread my legs and guided him inside me, teaching him how to move, where to touch, making him take it slow until he was shaking from the tension. We went at it for days, exploring every inch of each other. And when he begged me to take him bare, I pushed him onto his knees and let him feel what it was like to be deep inside my tight ass, whispering dirty words in his ear.

By the time his parents came back, I’d turned that shy boy into a man who knew exactly how to use his cock. He couldn’t keep his hands off me, and I left him wanting more than he’d ever get from some high school fling. I just hope his parents didn’t find out what their “innocent” housekeeper really taught their son.