“Do you mind if I smoke?”
“No, go ahead, just don’t blow it in my face.”
“Yeah right on, right on. Sorry, I’m buying a vape thing with my next paycheck.”
“Good luck to ya mate.”
He smiles and nods, lighting up. “So …tell me again what is it exactly do you do for this guy you’re seeing?”
I nibble the flaky pastry, then sip my tea to hide a private smile. “I’m his houseboy.” I leave out the part about pup play.
“His…houseboy?” Marcus repeats. “Like a slave?”
“No no.” I shake my head and set down my cup. “We have a contract, and it’s all consensual. If I’m not cool with something, I get to say so immediately. Never had to do that though.”
Marcus takes a drag. “So what do you do?”
“I go over there four days a week. Here’s an example. Sunday is laundry day. I come over around 9. I make brunch, coffee, and fresh juice. While he eats, I’ll do the dishes ..or you know, blow him under the table.

Marcus barks out a laugh. "Really?”
“Oh yeah, he has like a fat five inch dick, it’s fun to suck.”
My friend shakes his head. “I don’t know what I’d do if I went down on a girl and found five inches.”
I smirk. “You just put it in your mouth and suck, Marcus.”
He sticks his tongue out at me.
“So anyway, I finish up. I tidy up anything out of place in the house, then I clean the bathroom. His underwear is all fine men’s underwear brands, so I fill up the tub and hand wash all his underwear and wool socks using Dr. Bronner’s soap. He says detergent is bad for them.” I shrug. “Then I hang it all on the line out in the backyard, and use run the rest through the washing machine. That too goes on the line.”
Marcus looks fascinated.
“So, normally during this time he’s gone on a run or a hike and if he’s back in time, I make him a late lunch. He goes to shower. I change the laundry out. I then do the grocery shopping and errands while he watches sports, and then I stay late cooking him meals for the week. We eat together. Normally by this point he’s horny again and he fucks me. I sometimes stay or I leave if I have an early exam.”
“Wow…” Marcus says, “So you’re like a maid with benefits?”
“Yes!” I say. “I do whatever he needs. I’ve cleaned and vacuumed his car, cleaned his gutters, powerwashed the driveway – which was a blast, oiled wood furniture, flipped his mattress, washed him in the bath… it’s very satisfying. He is very appreciative, and goodness gracious he gets so horny watching me serve.”
“He has a cleaning fetish…?”
I delicately sip my tea. “Oh didn’t I mention? I do all of this naked.”

I try not to laugh as Marcus drops his ash into his coffee and hurriedly pours them out, saving his drink. “W..what? Wait what? You’re naked while cleaning??”
“Oh yes. Well, I wear an apron while cooking. Grease and all.”
Marcus doesn’t know what to say. I nibble the pastry. “Hard to believe you used to be such a pious little choir boy,” he mutters under his breath.
I chuckle. “Well, that was before puberty.”
“How did you find this guy again?”
“I was at a kink party on someone’s roof. The host kept dropping the ball because he was so distracted, so I stepped into his place – keeping the food and drinks stocked, whisking away the trash, etc. A friend saw me and introduced me to Mr. White, who had a running reputation in their circle of being totally disorganized.”
“Aaahh. Well. Huh. Someone for everyone.”

“Mmmhmm. He’s wonderful. I’m really falling for him. There is a difference between fucking, making love, and being handled during sex. And Mr. White knows the difference between all three. I mean the pay is good, but I would do it for the sex if I could.”
“I don’t remember you being this cock-crazy.”
“Oh Marcus, once you find a girl that is the perfect fit, that is perfectly in synch with you, you will want her all the time. It’s like living near a donut store. You just end up eating more donuts.”
“Only in your story you’ve stuck your dick through the donut for him to eat off of?”
I gasp out a laugh and nearly spill my tea. “Marcus! My dick isn’t that tiny.”
He grins, stubbing out his cigarette. “Maybe I’ll find a girl who likes donuts and loves to clean in a maid uniform.”
“…Why don’t you ask Caroline?”
“….What? The waitress.”
“This is a coffee shop. She sells donuts. Ask her out.”
Marcus stares. He looks across the patio to where Caroline is talking to customers.
“Fuck it, I’m doing it.”

I watch him down his coffee, remove his smoke-scented jacket, then get up to go talk to her. Caroline goes back inside and I can’t see what’s happening. Marcus comes back after a long moment.

“So?? How did it go?”
He holds up a napkin with a smile. “Got her number.”
I clap my hands together. “Oh Marcus, congrats! What did you say?”
A sheepish look appears on his face and he runs his fingers through his hair. “Well she was kind of hesitant to date customers at work. So I thought about what you said – I asked her if she cleaned up at the coffee shop, and she said she did and hated it. I told her if we could get together sometime I’d clean her apartment for her in appreciation – in my underwear. And she said yes!”
My jaw drops and I choke back a laugh. “Marcus!” I’m delighted at his craftiness. “You sly dog. Congrats, again.”
“Mmm now you gotta teach me how to find fine men’s underwear and how to wash underthings in the tub or the sink.”
“Lucky for you Marcus, I am an expert.”

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Text is fictional. Source is too common to track down.