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Walt Lafitte dropped the leather briefcase down on the sofa and threw the stack of unread newspapers on the kitchen counter. The grueling morning at the office had taken its toll on him and he had taken the afternoon off just to get some needed rest. But as he stumbled through the clutter in his condo, he saw that the place was a mess. Dishes were piled in the sink, magazines and newspapers were scattered across the coffee table, and books were stacked in a pile along the wall. His plans to build a bookcase had given in to the demands of the job that kept him working twelve-hour days on a regular basis.
As he walked into the master suite, he noticed several dress shirts strewn across the bed and chair. Slacks and belts were also draped across the arm of the chair. Over ten pairs of shoes were in disarray and strewn throughout the spacious bedroom. The unmade bed was just a reminder of how little time he actually spent sleeping in it. Some nights, he had even stayed over at his office working on various proposals. It was now clear to him that it was pathetic to earn a six-figure salary as an investment broker, live in a $400,000 condo, and yet have the place looking like a pigsty. He realized what the condo needed was a woman’s touch. But he could forget about trying to get any of the women that he dated to help. Not today’s modern black woman; most could hardly keep their own places clean. What he needed was a maid.
Walt picked up the phone book and flipped through the yellow pages. He found an employment service and asked them to send over some applicants for housekeepers. He told the lady at the agency that it didn’t matter who they sent as long as they were competent. The lady told him he would have to come down and fill out some paperwork before they could send out a housekeeper.
Walt hopped in his BMW and sped over to the agency, which was a few miles from his place. Just as he finished filling out the necessary paperwork and giving them adequate references, he was interrupted by a call on his pager. Checking his message, he saw that it was a client whom he had been trying to meet with in order to close a major deal. He informed the lady that he had to leave and asked if they could get someone over there today. The lady stated that they could and Walt left her the directions and a spare set of keys to his condo.
Later that night, after a long and successful dinner meeting with his client, Walt arrived home about midnight and was stunned to see a freshly cleaned and neat apartment. After stripping his clothes off, he plopped down in his freshly made bed and was soon sound asleep.
The light from the window awakened him and he heard footsteps approaching his bedroom. He sprung from the bed just as the door pushed open. Fearing that he was being robbed, he looked around for the baseball bat he used as protection, but he was totally surprised to see a brown-skinned young woman walking in with a basket of folded clothes. He stood there frozen, totally unaware that he was buck naked until the woman blushed as she glanced at his groin area. Walt grabbed for the covers to hide his nakedness.
“I’m so sorry,” the woman said with a Spanish accent. “I thought you were still asleep and I was going to put these in your dresser.”
“Who are you?” Walt asked, sounding very alarmed.
“I’m your housekeeper, Conchata. You hired me yesterday.”
“I did?” he said, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “Oh, yeah, the cleaning agency. Damn, I forgot all about that. You did a great job on the place.”
“Sorry that I awakened you,” she said, sitting the basket down. “Let me leave this so you can get dressed.”
Walt watched her as she turned to leave. She must have been no older than twenty-two or twenty-three. He noticed that she had a body that wouldn’t stop. Nice large breasts, shapely brown legs, and an ass that jutted out for days. He wasn’t sure if she was Mexican, Puerto Rican, or what, yet she had some African features as well. Regardless of her heritage, he thought, the woman was fine.
Once Walt got dressed, he went in to formally meet Conchata. She was bending over dusting and Walt noticed that her outfit, which consisted of a snug-fitting blouse and cutoff jeans, could barely hide her curvaceous figure. Walt chatted with her for several minutes, inquiring about her background. He soon found out that she was a student from Panama who had been living in the United States for several years. She was attending classes in the afternoons to become a physical therapist.
She and Walt hit it off well and he learned that she was hoping to make enough money to move out of her parents’home and get her own apartment. With six brothers and sisters, the place was very crowded and she couldn’t always find the ideal environment to study.
Walt thought about it for a while, then offered her the use of one of the extra bedrooms in his condo. “Since there’s ample room in the condo and I work long hours, it would give you a place to stay and a quieter place to study.” He saw the look of surprise come across her face and he added, grinning, “Besides, I had hoped that you could do some cooking, too.”
“Mr. Lafitte, that is so nice of you, but how much would I have to pay for the rent?” she asked.
He saw that she was very sincere. “No problem. I’ll pay you what you normally get for cleaning and an additional amount to cook. Your room and board will be a part of the agreement.”
“Oh, Mr. Lafitte, you are so nice. Wait till I tell my madre,” she said, slipping back into a bit of Spanish.
“And by the way, Conchata, you can call me Walt. You make me feel like I’m an old man. I’m only thirty-two.”
“Okay, Mr. La—er, I mean, Walt. Thank you very, very much.”
She walked into the next room to call her mother and Walt was happy that she accepted the job. It would be nice to have some company there as well.
Walt thought about Conchata’s voluptuous body as he worked out in his gym. He hadn’t used the equipment that he had installed in the third bedroom of his 2000-square-foot condo in weeks. The unit on the tenth floor had spectacular views of the bay and the mountains in the distance. Between thoughts of her and the strenuous workout, he was totally whipped after a ninety-minute workout. It had been weeks since he’d had a chance to use the gym and the equipment usually sat idle. Now that he had closed his big deal, he was going to work some reasonable hours.
He was stretched out on the bench resting when he noticed that Conchata was peeking in from the hallway.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was walking by and noticed that you were resting. Can I get you anything?”
“Just some water,” he said.
Walt was already starting to like this kind of treatment. He wondered why he hadn’t done this sooner.
Conchata returned with a glass of water and she stood there watching as he downed it quickly. She noticed that the sweat made his tank top cling to his chest muscles and she could see his washboard stomach. She continued her slow assessment of his tall, brown, muscular frame. Tree-trunk legs and a tight butt complemented the bulge in his shorts.
“Can I give you a rub down?” she asked. Walt was a little surprised. She noticed his quizzical look and said, “It’s one of the subjects that I’m studying. It’s one of the first steps in becoming a therapist.”
Walt relented. “Well, if you say so. If your massage technique is as good as your cleaning skills, then I’ll be a lucky guy.”
Motioning for him to lie back down on the bench, she said, “Okay, remove all your clothes.”
