Commodities

Beauty And Her Beast: Part 1.

WHAT REALLY HAPPENED IN THE CASTLE. Based on a post by secret sexy writer [https://www.literotica.com/authors/secretsxywriter/works]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/fall-2025/BeautyAndHerBeast1.mp3] at Steamy Stories [https://feeds.feedburner.com/steamy-stories]. [https://64.media.tumblr.com/ff7dda474d414c309d560868abd39249/dc9f252b70a46fca-48/s640x960/bf091632359e627d444357112c727e7d057998d2.jpg] Once upon a time; A merchant lived in a forest. His only daughter, Kristiana, had been a nursemaid to a wealthy family until the children became of age and the family no longer needed her services. Deciding to take some time for herself, she returned to live with her father. One morning, before he left for the market, he said to her, “Kristiana, if you could have one thing that would make you happy, what would it be?” “Finally being here with you makes me happy. I need nothing more.” Kristiana hugged her father and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Then she waved as he mounted his horse and headed off toward town. His mind still troubled him on his journey. He wanted to get something special for his daughter, but he no longer knew what she liked. And she hadn’t been much help with answers herself. She’d grown into such a beautiful woman while she’d been away. She was at least five-foot-five now, her brunette hair cascading down her back in soft waves. He remembered her mother pulling it back into pigtails not too long ago. And then Kristiana had hid it all twisted up on her head under a cap when she’d left to work for that family. That was all before his lovely wife had passed away after the terrible accident. No one had known where the beastly dogs had come from. Mariel had been tending the garden out back when they’d run out of the woods and attacked her in broad daylight. If only he’d been home at the time; He sniffed and urged his horse on. Throughout the morning as he gathered the items on his list, he focused on Kristiana. On the present. And he kept an eye out for her gift, but nothing seemed right. When he had finished his business, the merchant set off for home. The day had grown long, and the sun was already setting behind the trees of the woods. The wind grew colder, whipping his jacket about. With one hand, he struggled to hold onto the reins of the horse, his other hand clutching the satchel of merchandise tightly against his body. The sky darkened, and soon rain pelted down, soaking through his clothes. A streak of lightning spooked the horse, and then they were racing through the trees, wispy branches stinging his cheeks. Once the horse had calmed down, the merchant paused and glanced around. But under the thick cover of leaves over him, he couldn’t see the moon or tell which way to go. His only hope was that they could find some shelter and wait out the storm. His hope dwindled, though, as he led the horse among the maze of trees. He was completely lost, even in the woods he’d known most of his life. DALEMOND’S CASTLE. Just when he was ready to give up, he noticed a dull light shining off to his right, and steered the horse toward it. As he drew near, he saw that the light belonged to a building. An inn! Lightning lit up the sky, and the merchant gasped, tightening his grip on the reins as the horse reared up. The inn was actually a massive castle! Stone walls stretched out in either direction beyond a looming gate, and towers disappeared into the night sky above him. No lights were burning in any of the windows, but a lantern swung on a post over the front door. Sliding down from his horse, the merchant pushed open the gate and entered the courtyard. The horse whinnied at another crack of lightning, but it followed behind, pawing at the ground when he tied off the reins on a metal loop in the castle wall. When he reached the door, he saw that it was open. Though he shouted, no one came to greet him. Gathering his courage, he went inside, still calling out to attract attention. On a table in the front hall, a splendid dinner lay already served. He lingered, still shouting for the owner of the castle. But no one came, and so after eyeing the food and listening to his growling stomach, the starving merchant sat down to a hearty meal. His hunger satisfied, curiosity now plagued him. Why had no one met him at the door? Who had lit the lantern? Who had prepared the meal? He called again for any acknowledgement of his arrival. Upon receiving none, he ventured through the main room. At the far end was a grand staircase. He ascended, in awe of the paintings in elaborate gold frames adorning the walls. From the landing, a corridor led off in either direction with several closed doors on each side. However, the first door on his left was open. A fire crackled in a massive stone fireplace that was taller than he was. Directly across from it sat a four-poster bed piled high with blankets and pillows. It was now late, and he could not resist the invitation before him once again. He lay down on the bed and fell fast asleep. When he woke next morning, someone had placed a mug of steaming coffee and some fruit by his bedside. The merchant had breakfast and after tidying himself up, went downstairs to thank his generous host. But, as on the evening before, there was no one in sight. Shaking his head in wonder at the strangeness of it all, he went towards the courtyard where he had left his horse. To his continual surprise, his horse was no longer tethered to the castle wall but grazing beneath a tree in the sunshine. Next to the tree were several rose bushes. Dotting the green leaves, glistening with the remnants of last night’s rain, were the largest red flowers he’d ever seen in full bloom. Thinking of his parting question to his daughter, he whispered, “It’s perfect!” And then he carefully plucked a dewy rose from its bed. No sooner had he reached for the horse’s reins than a man sprang up from behind the rose garden. He wore a dark jacket over his tunic and pants that all looked of the finest material. His thick mane of hair was mostly gray with subtle streaks of blond, and it flowed down to his shoulders. But his brown eyes were bloodshot and gleamed with fire; his mouth was curled into a snarl. His wide shoulders towered over the merchant, and his large hands reached out to him. “Ungrateful man! I gave you shelter, fed you from my table, and gave you a bed to sleep in! But now all the thanks I get is the theft of my favorite flowers!” “Forgive me! Please, do not kill me! I’ll do anything you say! The rose wasn’t for me but for my daughter, Kristiana. I wanted to bring her a special present from my journey.” “I care not why you stole from me.” The man whistled, and two large dogs, drooling and growling, appeared from around the side of the castle. “I shall put you to death for this slight!” Trembling with fear, the merchant fell on his knees before the beast of a man. “Those dogs! They were your dogs?” “What nonsense do you speak, thief?” “Your dogs killed my wife!” The merchant wanted to scream in anger, but his voice barely came out as a raspy whisper. “They attacked her in our garden. Thankfully, our only child was gone and did not witness it. I returned too late to save my wife, but I saw the dogs before they disappeared into the woods again. All these years;” The man dropped the paw of a hand he had clamped on the distraught merchant, but his voice remained a deep growl. “I shall spare your life, but on one condition. Bring me your daughter! I will not harm her, but she will remain a servant in my castle.” The merchant’s heart leapt with joy at his own fortune. But then he felt his stomach twist with terror. He’d have to trade his life for his daughter’s! They would both still be alive, but; No, she would never forgive him for leaving her alone in the world if he did not obey. With his head hung low, the merchant nodded. “So be it. I will send my daughter to you.” “Take the rose. Have her bring it back so that I know it is her. Follow the path south until you get to a clearing, and then head west. This will lead you home.” And then the beast of a man disappeared around the side of the castle with the dogs. The journey home seemed shorter than he’d expected. After settling the horse in the barn, he trudged up to the house, his shoulders heavy. Kristiana rushed out to meet him. “Father! Where have you been? I’ve been so worried!” He fell into his daughter’s arms, holding her to him, trying to remember how his grown little girl felt one last time. Then he ushered her into the house and proceeded to tell her of the events of the previous night and this morning. When he’d finished, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the rose. “I’d do anything for you!” Kristiana hugged her father. “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to keep your promise. I will be fine. We will both return to the castle once you have rested.” “I fear what will happen to you. He promised not to harm you, but he said you would be his servant. I pray that he will be kind to you, at least. I will always love you, Kristiana, no matter what.” The merchant refrained from telling her what he had learned about the dogs. She need not distress over what she did not know and could not change. Prince Dalemond paced the Great Hall, growling out his frustration. Would the old man honor his promise? He should have killed him and been done with it. That was how his own father would have handled a thief. Whether a loaf of bread, a bag of coins, or a rose off a bush, stealing was stealing. But the knowledge that his precious dogs had killed the man’s wife, had left his only daughter without a mother; It reminded him of his own loneliness. He had let his emotions overpower justice, and he’d caved in. At least he would have a servant in the house now. He heard horses approaching, and then the squeal of the gate. He stepped into the shadows, waiting. There were voices outside, and then the pounding of the heavy knocker on the door. “Enter!” His voice bellowed and echoed through the empty hall. The wooden door slowly groaned open on its ancient hinges. By the day’s dying light creeping through the open doorway, he saw the merchant step inside. A young woman in a dark, green, hooded cloak followed. She carried the red rose from his garden. “You, Sir, have fulfilled your promise. You may leave us.” The woman hugged her father without any tears, and then the merchant hustled out the door. Prince Dalemond watched her from the shadows, the candlelight from the wall sconces bathing her in a soft glow. His heart pounded heavily in his chest. He’d never seen anyone so lovely. Her dark brown hair hung in long ringlets on either side of her face. The color of her cloak emphasized the green of her hazel eyes as she slowly took in her surroundings. When she lifted her hand to push back the hood, her arm moved the edge of the cloak aside. He gasped at the tight bodice of her cream-colored gown; at the swell of her breasts rising above the confines of the low neckline. She was truly a beauty. Something clenched in his gut, and he knew he would not be keeping her for a servant as he had planned. He did not want to tarnish one inch of her ivory complexion, flawless except for her cheeks tinged pink from her journey. He had not anticipated such a prize as her. He stepped out of his hiding place. When the candlelight flooded over him, he heard her gasp. “Welcome to my home, Kristiana. You are my guest. Please, may I take your cloak?” Kristiana took a step back, clutching one hand at the clasp at her throat. She stared for a moment, looking him over. She swallowed and then lifted her chin up, keeping her gaze from his. “How shall I address you, Sir?” “My name is Price Dalemond. ‘Your Highness’ will suffice.” He reached out and took her petite hand in his large one. She was shaking, and he gently squeezed her slender fingers. He raised her hand to his lips and placed the lightest kiss across her knuckles. He refrained from closing his eyes and sighing at the lavender scent of her soft skin. “Well, Your Highness, you say I am a guest, but we both know that I am a prisoner.” Kristiana pulled free from his grasp and squared her shoulders. “If you would so kindly show me to my chamber, I would like to retire for the evening.” She may have been a beauty, but he had never seen such hostility. Especially after he had extended his generosity to both her and her father. She was just as ungrateful as he had been. She should be happy to have her father still alive! With a low growl, he spun around and marched toward the grand staircase. He had prepared a room down the North Hall hear his own chambers. But now; now he led her down to the last room in the South Hall. The furthest room from the only other person in the entire castle. If she felt like a prisoner, he would treat her like one. Once they’d reached her new chamber, she waited until he opened the door, and then she entered with a minute tip of her chin. The room was dark and the air frigid. As angry as he was, he knew he could not leave her to freeze to death. Even his dogs deserved a fire on a cold night such as this. She stood just inside the doorway. He stepped past her, feeling the heat of her through the material of his shirt as his arm brushed against hers. Pushing away the resulting rush of desire to have that warmth against the rest of his body, he crossed the chamber in four long strides. After he had lit a fire, he turned back to her. Kristiana had moved to the window and drawn the curtain aside. He suddenly wanted to go to her, to apologize for his gruffness. But then he remembered the way she’d scorned him. “Dinner will be served shortly.” He made sure his tone relayed that it was a command. “I’m not hungry.” She kept her back to him. She stared out the window into the darkness instead. A muscle in his clenched jaw twitched. “Suit yourself!” And then he stormed across the room, slamming the door behind him. The moment that he was gone, Kristiana collapsed to the floor, her face in her hands. Warm tears wet her already hot cheeks. “I love you, Father! I will stay here to keep your promise, even though I detest the master of the house. I will never be happy here.” She glanced at the door, remembering how the prince had towered at least a foot above her. How her hand had disappeared in his when he’d welcomed her. How while she feared him, something inside drew her to him. And that frightened her even more. Her stomach growled, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting she had lied. She removed her cloak and laid it across the winged armchair by the fire instead. Then she crossed to the four-poster bed, climbing up onto the simple mattress covered by a thin quilt. An even thinner blanket lay folded at the footboard. An derisive grunt escaped when she thought of it. Meager accommodations for the prisoner. What else should she have expected? The pillow was soft, though, when she laid her head down. She watched the fire flickering across the small room, thankful for at least that source of heat. Shivers shook her body, and she hugged her arms to her chest, curling into a ball on top of the quilt. Tears trickled down her cheek again as she thought of her predicament. At some point, she must have drifted off because she felt someone watching her and she sat up with a gasp. But there was no one else there. It took her a moment to remember where she was, and why. She looked around at the fire blazing in the fireplace; her cloak on the chair; the plate of food on the table beside the chair; the blanket lying over her body. She may be alone now, but someone had been in the room. Did she dare hope that it had been Prince Dalemond? Who else could it have been? Father had mentioned there had been no one else in the castle the night before. If it had been her host, why did she even care? He was a brute of a man. Only a monster would demand on killing a man for picking a flower; or imprison a young woman as a hostage in his castle. She would be wise to keep her distance from him. Surely, she could find something to do to while away the days she was being held captive. Because deep down, she just knew he would grow tired of her and this wicked game he was playing. Then he would set her free. Kristiana was halfway across the chamber, no longer able to resist the tray of meats, cheeses, and fruit and the pitcher she hoped contained wine, when the thought occurred to her. What if he did tire of his game; but he left her hidden away, forgetting about her instead of setting her free? She would never see Father again! Fresh tears choked her throat. Somehow, she managed to clean the tray before curling up in the chair. Her eyes felt drowsy from the wine. Pulling her cloak over her, she succumbed to sleep. She dreamed that someone was watching her again. And then a warm body carried her. A disarray of memories followed, mainly of her mother. She woke the next morning to sunlight streaming in the window, the curtains drawn aside. The fire still burned and a new tray of breads and fruit sat on the table. She stretched, yawning and then froze. She was lying in the bed under layers of thick blankets. It had not been a dream. Someone had carried her there. After a quick breakfast, she washed her face at the basin filled with cool water. When she turned back to the bed, she noticed the wardrobe’s doors were partially ajar. She slowly pulled the doors open all of the way and gasped. Inside hung dresses in a multitude of colors. She couldn’t help wondering why someone so mean he would keep her captive would also show such acts of kindness. 'His Highness’ was an enigma. And a small part of her begged to understand him. Choosing a pale yellow dress, she changed her clothes and brushed out her hair. It was time to explore her prison, such as it was. Prince Dalemond had searched every room but one by noontime. Kristiana was nowhere to be found. He hoped she had not run away. Despite his frustration at her stubbornness last night, he had enjoyed watching her sleep. She had seemed so peaceful. So innocent. Besides, it wasn’t her fault she was here. If her father hadn’t stolen the rose; He grunted and thought of her creamy breasts rising and falling in her sleep. How her lips had parted with a soft sigh when he’d moved her from the chair. How light her small body had felt in his arms. He’d wanted to kiss her but had refrained. Now; now he wanted to scream. Where was she? How dare she hide from him! He pushed open the final door, the door to the library, his breath huffing. And then he froze. Kristiana sat in the window seat, the skirts of her yellow dress pooled around her, a small stack of books beside her. Her head rose with a start, and she dropped the book she’d been reading. For the longest moment, they just stared at each other. Her heavy breathing drew his eyes downward. A low moan escaped as his gut tightened. “Was there something you wanted?” Her quiet voice broke the spell over him. He lifted his eyes to hers again, swallowing his honesty. Instead, he forced a smile and said, “It’s time for the noon meal. Care to join me in the Great Hall?” She blinked, opened her mouth,

Babysitting Perks

A SNOWSTORM LEAVES THE SITTER STUCK AT HER CLIENT’S HOUSE. Based on a post by lily ann [https://www.literotica.com/authors/lily_ann/works]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/fall-2025/BabysittingPerks.mp3] at Steamy Stories [https://feeds.feedburner.com/steamy-stories]. [https://64.media.tumblr.com/ee5cc461cdbc2f89dd5620011337fc68/c6a3893afca38852-37/s640x960/2332eafc58f257b0ee5c64f92ed0580b37ad73f5.jpg] I spent most nights of my senior year in high school babysitting. It was my parent’s fault, really. Apparently having a real job would affect my grades too much, so I was stuck earning my money by spending my nights in various houses, feeding Kraft Dinner and hot dogs to hyper-active kids while their parents took a night off. It wasn’t terrible, by any means. In fact, I took it quite seriously. I don’t mind children, and at most places I had full access to the fridge while I finished off my homework after putting the kids to bed. The pay wasn’t bad, either. I liked to play games with the kids and most of the time, the kids asked for me back before their parents did. I had a pretty steady clientele, most within walking distance of my house. It was convenient for me; I had procrastinated getting my driver’s license so long that I was 18 and still only had my learner’s license. It was late February when Mr. Riley called the first time. I gave my cell phone number out to my clients, and he was lucky enough to call me on one of my nights off. I was in the bathtub when I answered. “Hello?” “My name is George Riley. I’m looking for Anna Marchand,” replied the person on the other end. I immediately liked his voice. It wasn’t too deep, but it was soft and smooth. I was almost tempted to consider it calming, but he sounded slightly stressed. “You’ve reached her,” I said. “Oh; hi, Anna.  I’m a friend of the Anderson’s, and they recommended you as a babysitter. I’ve got a few late meetings next Friday, and my regular sitter isn’t available. I was wondering if you’d be available to watch my son.” I shifted in the tub, hoping he didn’t hear the water splash. “I usually take Friday nights off, but it sounds like you could use the help.” “I really could,” he said. “I’m afraid I can’t offer you more than your regular rate or anything;” "It’s fine,” I interrupted. “I don’t mind, sir, really. I’d love to babysit for your son.” “Thank you so much,” he said, sounding thoroughly relieved. “His name is Kyle, and he’s three. I would need you from around five until pretty late.” “Not a problem,” I said. I got the rest of the details from him, and made a note of his address. He lived on the other side of town, but I was sure my mom would be okay with driving me. Friday came along and I went home after school. I had worn a cute skirt to school and debated on wearing it to the Riley’s, but decided against it;  three year olds could be really active and I didn’t want to deal with the skirt. Instead I put on my favorite pair of jeans, dark blue and fitting snugly, with a tight blue scoop neck t-shirt. I never tried to dress provocatively when I went to babysit, but I did try to look fairly nice. I rarely got to go out with friends or boys, because I always seemed to be taking care of someone else’s kids. Usually I was alright with it; not dating just meant I didn’t have to deal with all the drama my friends did, and there were very few guys I knew that I was really interested in, anyway. I knew there was a reason for it. I would never tell any of my friends, but I found a lot of the men I babysat for much more appealing than any guy my age. I babysat for a lot of babies and toddlers, so their parents tended to be either late twenties or early thirties; not that much older than me, at any rate. A lot of the men were good-looking, and more than once I found my mind fixed on one of them while I got off before falling asleep. I didn’t know about Mr. Riley, though. The Anderson’s were a couple in their early forties, and since they had referenced me, I figured Mr. Riley might be a bit older than the usual men I babysat for. Even still, I put a little bit of effort into my outfit. The t-shirt clung nicely to my tits, which were a nice size; 36 C, and fairly firm. I had a push-up bra underneath, which showed just a hint of cleavage. It fit slightly looser around my stomach. While I would never consider myself fat, I didn’t have the hard, flat tummies that all my friends seemed to work towards. I didn’t mind, though. It was a small price to pay for having great hips and a round ass. I knew that if I tried to lose any weight, I’d lose those curves, and that was not something I was willing to give up to have a flat stomach. After putting on just a bit of makeup and brushing my long hair off my face, I grabbed my backpack and went to ask my mom to drive me over. My mom dropped me off at quarter to five. I walked up the driveway. The house was in a fairly good neighborhood and looked pretty nice. I rang the doorbell and waited patiently. The door was opened a few moments later by a man who, I was surprised to see, looked to be in his early thirties. He was good looking, about 6'2’’ and fairly toned, with deep brown eyes and dark brown hair. He was wearing a nice suit, but looking slightly frazzled. “Mr. Riley?” I asked. “Yeah, you must be Anna?” I smiled. “Nice to meet you, sir.” He smiled and opened the door. I turned around and waved at my mom, who had been waiting to make sure we had the right address. Mr. Riley led me into the house and offered to take my jacket. I smiled and gave it to him, looking around the house as he put it away. It was nice, but a little messy. There were toys everywhere and I could hear a TV playing a kid’s show in the next room. “Sorry about the mess,” Mr. Riley said, returning without my jacket. “I haven’t had time to clean anything up.” “It’s fine,” I said, smiling. “No, it’s embarrassing.” He smiled at me apologetically. I grinned. He was very attractive, especially when he smiled. I was glad I had put a bit of effort into my outfit, and briefly let myself wonder what he was like in bed. My thoughts were interrupted by a little boy rushing into the front hall. Mr. Riley turned and lifted the boy. “This is Kyle,” he said. Kyle looked at me shyly, but he was smiling. He was absolutely adorable, with big brown eyes just like his father’s, and lighter brown hair that fell in his face. He had a smudge of dirt across his cheek and his father wiped it off tenderly. “Hi Kyle,” I said. “I’m Anna. I’m going to be here with you tonight.” “Say hi, Kyle,” Mr. Riley said, nudging the little boy. “Hi,” Kyle said quietly. Mr. Riley put him down and Kyle ran back into the other room. “I’ve got to finish getting ready for my meetings,” he said. “If you wouldn’t mind watching Kyle?” “Of course,” I replied, “that’s what I’m here for.” I walked into the other room and sat on the couch. Kyle looked up from the floor, where he was playing with some cars. I smiled at him, and he stood up, picking his toys up and walking over to the couch. “Wanna play?” he asked softly. By the time Mr. Riley poked his head in to tell me he was leaving, Kyle and I were playing cars. Kyle hardly noticed his father leaving, making my job easier. Kids always hate it when their parents go. He was a good kid, and very talkative. We played cars until I decided it was time for him to eat. Over dinner, Kyle told me about his mom. I wasn’t exceptionally surprised to find out that his parents were divorced, but I was shocked to find out how much Kyle knew about it; especially how easily he told me about how his mother just walked out. It’s surprising how much information kids can absorb, and I felt so bad for the poor kid that I gave him an extra scoop of ice cream for dessert. It was probably a bad decision on my part; the extra sugar hyped him up so much that I had trouble getting him to bed. By the time he finally fell asleep, it was an hour and a half past his bedtime, and I was exhausted from chasing him around. I felt bad for disobeying what Mr. Riley had asked, but figured I could explain it when he got home. After Kyle was asleep, I tidied up the den and kitchen before settling myself on the couch. I turned the TV on and started studying. It didn’t take me long to finish my homework, so I spent some time channel surfing and reading some magazines that Mr. Riley had on the coffee table, checking on Kyle every once in a while. I was so tired that I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I was startled awake when I heard the front door open. I sat up and a magazine fell off my lap just as Mr. Riley entered the room. He smiled at me. “Did I wake you up?” he asked. I yawned. “I guess so,” I answered, laughing. “I didn’t even realize I had fallen asleep.” He laughed and entered the room, bending down to pick up the magazine I dropped. “Did Kyle wear you out?” I smiled at him. “Well, it’s my fault, really.” I blushed. “I felt kind of bad for him, so I gave him a little extra ice cream after dinner. He went to bed a little later than you said. I’m sorry.” “Oh, that’s fine,” Mr. Riley said. “It’s rare that he likes babysitters, so a little extra ice cream might have been okay.” He frowned for a moment. “Why did you feel bad for him?” I bit my lip nervously. “Well, he just started talking about; about his mom; and I just;” Mr. Riley smiled, holding a hand up to cut me off. "I understand.” I took a good look at Mr. Riley. He had a young-looking face, but he looked tired and really tense. His tie was loosened slightly and he had taken off his jacket, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up. He caught me looking at him and laughed a bit. “I’m a mess, I know,” he sighed, sitting on the couch. “It’s been hard since; well; she just left. I love my son but she was the one who stayed home with him. I’m still trying to figure out how I’m supposed to balance him and my job.” I smiled, a little unsure of what to say, and he seemed to notice. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s okay,” I answered. “Well, you know, if you need help I can always come over and babysit.” He smiled at me again. “I’ll keep it in mind. And thanks for cleaning up, you didn’t have to do that.” I smiled back. “It wasn’t a problem.” “Well, thanks. It really helped.” I picked up my bag. “Would you mind if I used your phone to call my mom?” “Yeah, go right ahead. It’s in the kitchen.” He leaned back against the couch as I walked away. I walked into the kitchen and picked up the phone, dialing my mom’s cell number. My mom picked up after a few rings. “I’m ready to come home now,” I said. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry!” she answered. “Haven’t you looked outside? It’s a blizzard out there.” I glanced out the window, surprised to see a ton of snow and the wind howling. “I fell asleep, I hadn’t noticed.” “That explains why you didn’t answer your cell phone. I keep telling you not to have it on silent. Hon, the car won’t start in this weather and it’s snowed in the driveway.” “It’s fine, Mom, I’ll call a cab,” I told her. “Okay, well let me know when it picks you up.” I assured her I would, and hung up. I walked back to the living room, where Mr. Riley was still sitting on the couch. “Do you have a phone book?” I asked. “My mom’s car won’t start, I need to call a taxi.” “Of course,” he said, standing up. We walked back to the kitchen and he grabbed it out of a drawer, leaning against the counter as I dialed. The phone rang once before a recorded message picked up. “Thank you for calling Yellow Cab Company,” said a woman’s voice. “Because of the storm in your region this evening, we are unable to provide taxi service. If you are calling in regards to anything else, please press zero to speak with an operator.” I hung up slowly, turning to Mr. Riley. “The cab company shut down,” I told him. He nodded. “I thought they might have. The roads are awful.” He thought for a moment. “If it’s alright with you, you’re welcome to spend the night here. We have an extra room. I’d drive you but I don’t want to wake Kyle.” I considered it for a moment. “It really seems like the only option,” I said quietly. “If you don’t mind, of course.” He smiled at me. “Not at all. You were so helpful tonight, it’s the least I can do. Call and tell your mother, I’ll go get the guest room ready.” I called my mom back, telling her I would be staying at the Riley’s. “Well, alright,” she said, thought slightly reluctantly. “Remember to help Mrs. Riley make breakfast tomorrow.” I pursed my lips, thinking it would be best if I didn’t tell her that there was no Mrs. Riley. “Alright, Mom, see you tomorrow.” I hung up the phone and walked down the hallway, where a light was coming from the room next to Kyle’s. Mr. Riley came out as I was walking towards it. “There’s fresh sheets and everything in there,” he whispered. “But I’m afraid I don’t have anything for you to wear.” “That’s fine,” I replied quietly. “I can just sleep in this.” He blushed. “Well, my wife left some of her things; I haven’t cleared them out of our room yet. If you’d like you can grab something of hers.” I blushed in reply, but nodded, seeing as sleeping in my jeans would be kind of uncomfortable. Mr. Riley quietly moved past me and motioned for me to follow him down the hall. We entered a big master suite, and I bit my lip a bit when I saw it. Not only had Mr. Riley referred to it as “our room,” as though his wife was still there, half the room looked like it hadn’t be touched since she left. His side had clothes on the floor and papers on the wardrobe, but hers was completely clean. There were even bottles of perfume still sitting on the vanity. He turned around and smiled apologetically. “I should clean up, huh,” he said in a bit of a louder voice, obviously trying to joke a bit. I laughed softly. “It’s fine.” He motioned to the closet. “You can pick whatever you’d like. I’ll grab you a toothbrush.” With that, he turned and walked into the ensuite bathroom. I opened the closet door. It was all woman’s clothes, organized by what must have been occasion, and then by color. I couldn’t help but laugh a bit when I saw it. There was a section specifically for pajamas. Mrs. Riley had a lot of matching lingerie sets, garters and see-through teddies, and I blushed looking at them. No doubt that she had worn them for Mr. Riley, and I wondered what kind of things they had done after he had slowly pulled them off her. I rifled through her clothes looking for something a bit less revealing. They felt musty, as though she hadn’t even moved them around for ages, even before she left. Dust bounced into the air as I rifled through the clothes. After looking through everything, I finally decided on a pair of shorts and a pink tank top. I pulled it out reluctantly, having hoped for at least a t-shirt, but deciding it would have to do. “Mommy?” I whirled around, suddenly hearing a small voice behind me. Kyle’s head was poked through the slightly ajar door, looking at me. I smiled at him. “No, Anna. Remember me, Kyle?” I asked softly. His face welled up immediately, and I looked at him helplessly for a moment. At that point, Mr. Riley came out of the ensuite. “Shouldn’t you be in bed, buddy?” he asked. “Want Mommy!” Kyle shouted, then began to wail. Mr. Riley glanced at me. “Go ahead and change in there,” he said, pointing to the ensuite bathroom. “He doesn’t usually take long for me to calm down, but I’ll need to take him to the washroom.” I watched as Mr. Riley picked Kyle up and began to walk down the hall. I walked slowly into the ensuite. It was nicely decorated, with a lot of men’s toiletries on the counter. I slowly stripped out of my jeans and t-shirt and took of my bra before pulling on the pajama set. I immediately regretted choosing to wear Mrs. Riley’s pajamas. She must have been much skinnier than me, and a lot shorter. I pulled the tank top over my tits with a lot of effort. The material was stretched across my chest and the hem ended a few inches above my naval. The shorts were a little easier to get into, but were still fairly tight, and a lot shorter than I thought they would be; they were practically briefs. I couldn’t do up the drawstring, so I just left it undone. I stared in the mirror for a few minutes, nervously appraising my appearance. I glanced around the bathroom, looking for a robe of some sort, but found nothing. “Anna?” I heard Mr. Riley call softly. I opened the door and poked my head out to see Mr. Riley standing in the center of the room. He smiled. “You found something, then?” I blushed. “Umm; sort of.” He looked at me, confused. “I found something, but I didn’t realize; well, it’s just that; I guess she was a bit smaller than me?” He nodded quickly. “I didn’t think of that,” he admitted, but then shrugged. “It’s just for sleeping, though, it shouldn’t matter.” I glanced in the mirror again. I had a feeling that Mr. Riley wouldn’t think the same thing after he saw his wife’s clothes on me, but I shrugged. “I guess you’re right,” I said, turning and opening the door. When I stepped into the room, Mr. Riley’s mouth dropped open and I blushed immediately. He looked me up and down, staring at my body, and primarily at my tits. Normally, I would have been embarrassed and slightly uncomfortable, being looked at like. I would have been even more uncomfortable noticing the sudden bulge in his pants. I mean, I wonder sometimes, but thinking about the men I babysit for and actually have them stare at me are two very different things. Mr. Riley, however, was a very good-looking man. I guess my next few actions I blame on that, and the fact that as someone who babysat nearly all the time, I hardly ever got the opportunity to get laid. I let Mr. Riley stare at me for a good minute before I giggled a bit. “So, it’s not too small then?” I said, blushing as he tore his eyes off my body and looked up at me before glancing back at the floor. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice breaking a bit. “No; it’s fine;” I couldn’t help b

A Long Awaited Package

A LONELY WOMAN ENJOYS HER POSTMAN. Based on a post by LindseyLuv [https://www.literotica.com/authors/LindseyLuv/works]. Listen to the Postman [https://archive.org/download/summer-2025_202506/ALongAwaitedPackage.mp3] in Connected [https://feeds.feedburner.com/connected-podcast]. [https://64.media.tumblr.com/5744ea541ac239c422ce8c9e58c6d121/8ec313a75b6c683a-d9/s640x960/17ce10b2470c131b7bda42a9273f6a9792be94f0.jpg] Samantha awoke with a start, the beeping of her alarm clock ringing in her ears. Groggily, she rolled over and hit the snooze button. Five more minutes. Rolling over onto her back, she gazed up at the ceiling, trying to find the motivation to crawl out of bed and get ready for work. Her mind wandered to the day ahead, the meetings, the paperwork, the boredom of sitting in her cubicle waiting for five o'clock to roll around. Just like every day. She sighed. At least it paid the rent. At 48 years old, she s begun to think her chances of finding a mate were slipping away. Her body still has great curves, even if the portions are now more bountiful. Her face was always alluring, but she s not been smiling as much, lately. Soon enough, Samantha’s alarm clock went off again, breaking her out of her sleepy haze. Rolling her legs off the side of her bed into her warm slippers, she stood up with a yawn, and headed downstairs to make herself breakfast. Sat at the small dining table of her flat’s modest kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil, she couldn’t help but stare off into the distance. Checking the clock, she felt a sudden familiar rush of excitement. It was nearly eight. Tapping her foot, she waited eagerly for the one thing that invariably brightened her day. Rudy. Almost on cue, she heard the doorbell ring, and practically leapt to her feet. After adjusting her dressing gown to make sure she was decent, she quickly made her way to the front door. Through the glass she could see a familiar silhouette standing on her porch, a large bag slung over his broad shoulder. Her heart skipped a beat. Quickly adjusting her hair, she reached out her and opened the door. “Hi” Sam said with a warm continence. “Good morning. Parcel for you, Miss Foster. I assume it s for you? It says S Foster. Is there any other S foster at this address?” Sadly, I ve lived alone for several years. My late husband suffered health issues, and passed away 5 years ago. Ah, that s difficult to get past, isn t it, Miss Foster? You know; Jenny and I, she s my 17 year old daughter; We lost my dear Caroline, 16 years ago. Jenny still has emotional issues with me moving on; you know? Going on dates, and such. Oh, Rudy, you re raising a daughter by yourself? You re a brave and devoted parent. Is she still in high school? Graduating this spring! She might be valedictorian, if she keeps up her grades. Heading off to state university next fall on a nursing scholarship. But that s when I hope to move on to what s next for me. Samantha smiled. In front of her stood a tall, handsome man, wearing a postman’s uniform. His hair was a dusty blonde color, shaved short at the sides, and his eyes shone the deep blue of the ocean at night. Beneath his clothes, his muscular build was evident, and as he spoke the warm smile on his lips and the light stubble decorating his sharp jawline made her heart flutter. Rudy handed her the letters, and the parcel. Reaching out, she took the parcel from his hands, her fingers brushing against his as she did, causing them both to laugh awkwardly. She looked up at him. “Oh, thank you, Rudy. Smiling, he tipped his hat and said; I better keep moving. Rain showers are expected every afternoon this week. Good day, Miss Foster. It s been really nice to visit. "Same time tomorrow?” “Same time tomorrow. 8AM sharp. As long as I have a package to deliver, of course.” They both chuckled, and as he made his way back down the garden path, Samantha couldn’t help but sigh, as she watched him go. Closing the door, she made her way back into the kitchen, putting the parcel down on the table, and returning to her breakfast. Quickly finishing her toast, she left the water boiling to make her way upstairs to the bathroom. Letting her dressing gown fall around her feet, Samantha stepped into the shower and turned on the faucet. As the warm water began to cascade down her body, she let out a long, content sigh. Few things in life felt as good as a warm shower. Closing her eyes, she just stood there for a while, letting the water run down her naked body, across her shoulders, between her tits, down her thighs to her feet. Once again, she thought about the day ahead of her, and grimaced. God, she needed a break. She’d been working in the same office for almost five years now, with no promotion and barely a pay rise. It wasn’t a bad job by any means, but after a while the monotony had begun to wear on her soul. What she needed was an escape, something new and exciting to revitalize her. Perhaps a holiday, she thought, reaching for the strawberry and coconut shower gel to her right. Somewhere exciting, and exotic, like India or South America. She smiled to herself. Perhaps she could just go spontaneously, book a week off work and head to the airport, jump on the first flight she could and see where the universe took her. She laughed. As she began to lather herself with soap, her thoughts wandered once again, back to the handsome postman who came to her door every day. She thought about his smile, and the way his eyes sparkled when she asked if she’d see him again tomorrow. Her hands moved across her stomach, and she couldn’t help but think of the way his hands brushed against hers, the tenderness with which he handed her post to her. She felt her cheeks beginning to flush as her imagination took her further, to the tightness of his shirt, stretched across his muscular chest, and sharp cut of his jaw. Her hands began to drift further down, across her thighs as she began to picture him shirtless, his strong arms wrapped around her, his own hands on her body, caressing her, holding her tight against him as he kissed her neck from behind. She let out a soft gasp as her fingertips traced higher along her legs, getting closer and closer to her privates as her thoughts grew steamier by the second. Barely inches from herself, she imagined him pushing her down gently onto the bed, climbing on top of her from behind, his mouth on her ear… Suddenly, she snapped back to reality. She still had to be at work in half an hour. Finishing her shower, she turned off the water and stepped out, grabbing a towel from the rack to dry herself as she quickly made her way to her bedroom to get dressed. Leaving the house, locking the door behind her, Samantha couldn’t help but feel a sense of melancholy at leaving her fantasy behind as well. Sitting in the morning traffic, her brain a mess of emotions, she tried not to think about it, and to focus on the day ahead instead. She’d always been a model employee, reliable and good at her work, but lately she’d been falling behind, and she couldn’t afford to have another unproductive day. But later, sat alone in her cubicle, she found it increasingly hard to focus on her work. Every time she tried to work on a report, she’s just end up staring at the screen, reading the same sentences, over and over, unable to think of anything but the man who came to her door every day. By the time her lunch break had rolled around, she’d barely done any work at all. Grabbing her coat, she made her way towards the staircase, heading out to the cafe down the road, where she usually got her sandwiches. Stepping through the door to her concrete office building and out onto the windy street, she turned her collar up to the cold. As she started to walk, she could feel the familiar melancholy feeling rising again. Here she was, on her way to the same sandwich shop she visited every day, to get the same thing for lunch, before heading back to the same building to do the same boring job. Every single day. She wanted to scream. She needed to escape, find something to break up the monotony of her life, even for just a moment. A string of failed relationships had seen her throw herself into her work, but now she couldn’t stand the idea of doing this for the rest of her life. She needed something to spice things up, something wild and spontaneous, to bring the spring back to her step. An idea quickly flashed across her mind, but she dismissed it as fantasy. But then, suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. Why did it just have to be a fantasy? Why couldn’t she make it a reality? What was stopping her? She nodded to herself. She’d made up her mind. Nothing was going to change if she didn’t force it to. She needed to break out, live her life the way she wanted to. And she knew exactly what she was going to do first. Hurrying to the cafe, she made her order, choosing the first thing she saw on the menu. She gave the girl behind the counter her money, and made her way back to the office, eating as she went. She began to plan exactly what she was going to do, how best to put her plan into motion. By the time she arrived back at her cubicle her mind was set. She sat down, turning her computer back on, and went back to trying to work, her mind a whirlwind of excitement. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, shaking slightly as her heart pounded in anticipation. It didn’t take long to make up for the slow morning, and by the time the clock chimed five, Samantha was reasonably pleased with the work she’d accomplished. Grabbing her coat again, she made her way towards her boss’s office. As she rapped her knuckles against the door, she heard a gruff voice from within. “Yes, come in.” Opening the door, she saw the director of her company closing up his laptop and putting it away into his bag. “Ah, Samantha, how can I help?” “Hi, Mr. Bergstein, sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know I might be a bit late to work tomorrow.” Her boss raised an eyebrow. “Tomorrow? You’ve left it awfully late to tell me. What’s going on?” Samantha felt her heart leap into her throat. “Something’s come up at home, and I just need to take care of it tomorrow morning. I’ll be in by ten, don’t worry.” Mr. Bergstein gave a slight chuckle. “Don’t worry, I won’t, as long as you’re happy to stay late to make up for it?” Samantha grinned. That was easier than expected. “Of course, sir! See you tomorrow!” “Goodbye, Miss Foster.” Closing the door to the office, Samantha felt giddy. Grabbing her coat and bag, she hurried outside to her car, throwing open the door and climbing inside. The ride home was a blur, she struggled to focus on the road as a mixture of emotions shot through her brain. By the time she got home she was positively ecstatic. That evening was one of the hardest of Samantha’s life. She sat on the couch, trying to focus on the tv, trying to ignore the anticipation hovering in her gut. Soon enough, it was time for bed, and as she climbed under the sheets, her satin nightgown smooth against her skin, she hoped she’d fall asleep quickly. After tossing and turning for close to an hour, she finally managed to overcome the butterflies in her stomach that kept her from sleep. The next morning, when her alarm clocked beeped out its familiar chime, it took no time at all for Samantha to wake up. Practically leaping out of bed, she made her way to the bathroom. It was earlier than usual, she wanted to give herself a bit of extra time just to make sure everything was perfect. Shedding her nightie, she climbed eagerly into the warm water of the shower, closing her eyes as her body relaxed under the steady stream. She didn’t let her mind wander today, her thoughts too focused on her plan. Grabbing the shower gel, she made sure to wash herself thoroughly, before returning the bottle to its shelf and reaching for her razor. By the time she’d finished, her legs were as smooth as silk, not too speak for her underarms or her privates. Turning off the water, she quickly dried herself with a towel from the rack, and headed back towards her bedroom. Sitting herself down, still wrapped in her towel, she began to fix her make-up. She wanted to look her best, after all. She tried to keep it modest, but sexy; mascara, eyeliner, and ruby red lipstick. She took a moment to admire herself in the mirror, before blowing a playful kiss to her reflection. Shedding the towel, she opened her closet. Time for the hardest choice. Rifling through her lingerie draw, she finally settled on an outfit; a black and red lace bra with matching panties, sheer black stockings, suspenders, and a black garter belt. She stood in front of the mirror, admiring herself. She looked stunning. Quickly making the bed, she made her way towards the stairs, just in time for the doorbell to ring, sending a wave of excitement and anticipation throughout her entire body. Trying to keep her nerves under control, Samantha made her way towards the door. Through the glass she could see Rudy’s silhouette, and her heart skipped a beat. This was it. Reaching out a quivering hand, she grasped the door handle, and opened it. “Good morning, Miss.. oh.” Samantha stood there for a moment, catching her breath as Rudy looked her up and down. The way his eyes moved across her body told her everything she needed to know about his reaction. The bulge quickly forming in his trousers did the rest. His eyes flicked up to meet hers. “Should I come in?” His words gave her all the courage she needed. Breaking into a mischievous smile Samantha reached out and grabbed his collar with both hands, pulling him excitedly into the entrance hall, slamming the door shut behind him. Now pressed tightly together between the narrow walls of the hallway, she pulled his face down to hers, launching the two of them into a passionate kiss. As their lips touched, Samantha felt her heart beating as loud as drum, amazed and excited by Rudy’s willingness. She let her mouth open, and he followed suit, allowing her tongue into his mouth as she deepened the kiss. Samantha was in heaven. She could barely believe this was really happening, that she had the man, the object of all her carnal desires, here in her arms. As they kissed, tongues dancing passionately, she felt Rudy’s hands slip from his bag to her waist, holding her bare sides firmly, drawing her closer to him, until their bodies were pressed tight, and she could feel his own fast heartbeat pounding in time with her own. Closing her eyes tight, she let go of his collar, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, cupping one side of his face as she did. The rough texture of his stubble made her shiver, and in response she felt his hands beginning to roam. Slowly at first, just his thumbs rubbing in rhythmic circles, teasing her, before beginning to move his whole hands up and down her sides, his firm grip sending shivers throughout her body. As he began tracing a sensual pattern across her bare skin, she broke the kiss to let out a short breathy gasp of arousal. Taking his opportunity, Rudy lent forward, his mouth next to her ear, and began to speak softly to her as his hands continued to explore her body. “How long have you been planning this?” Samantha could barely respond. “Only since yesterday. But I’ve wanted you for so much longer.” Rudy smiled. “I’ve wanted you too.” Samantha opened her eyes, her face inches from the handsome man holding her in his arms, the man she’d secretly pined over for months, and couldn’t stop herself kissing him once more. The two stood in the hallway, lips pressed tightly together, kissing passionately as Rudy’s hands moved across Samantha’s body, from her sides to her back, down to her ass. Soon, after what felt to her like a blissful eternity, Samantha grasped his collar once again, breaking the kiss to give him another mischievous smile. “Come on” she said, escaping from his embrace to drag him towards the stairs, up to her bedroom. They’d barely made it through the door before she had him on his back, sprawled out on her bed as she stood over him, body pink and flushed with arousal. Heart pounding, she took a step forward, gently dropping to her knees as she crawled towards him. Kneeling between his legs, she looked up at his face, also flushed, and began to slowly unzip his fly. She took her time, making sure to draw the act out for as long as possible, before gently tugging the heavy fabric down to his knees. Samantha looked back down, at the large bulge now facing her, covered only by the thin cotton of Rudy’s boxers. With trembling fingers, she worked her way along the waistline, making sure to watch his face as she did, reveling in the excited frustration he showed at her teasing. Finally, she pulled down the fabric, allowing his erection to spring forth. Samantha gasped. Barely inches from her face stood Rudy’s cock, hard and pulsing before her. It was larger than she’d expected, and as she stared she could feel the butterflies in her stomach fluttering harder than ever before. Slowly, trying hard to keep her nervous hands steady, Samantha curled her fingers around the shaft, being careful not to lose sight of Rudy’s face. The postman let out a low groan as he finally felt her soft hands on his cock. Filled with a new confidence, Samantha began to stroke. Starting slow, she soon found a comfortable rhythm, and before long had Rudy groaning as she worked his shaft with her hands. She stared up at him, admiring her skills. It had been a while since she’d had someone to use them on. Leaning forward, eyes still locked on his, she planted a soft kiss at his base, causing the cock in her hand to jump. Letting out a satisfied giggle, she began to work her mouth along the side of his shaft, kissing as she went, until she reached the head of his cock. For a moment she hovered, staring in amusement at the purple head before her, before opening her mouth and taking him inside. Immediately Rudy let out a moan, followed by a breathy exhale as Samantha adjusted to the size of his cock. Gently, she ran her tongue around the head, sensually exploring every inch with glee. His cock tasted divine, and Samantha couldn’t get enough. With care, she ran her tongue across the tip, savoring the salty sweet taste of precum while Rudy shivered beneath her. Closing her eyes, she decided it was time to go further. Keeping hold of the base with one hand, she began to bob her head, relaxing as she took the first few inches inside. It felt hot in her mouth, and she couldn’t help but feel her cheeks flushing with excitement. Slowly moving up and down, she tried to draw out each rise as much as she could, forcing him to wait for each new stroke, before deciding again, each time taking him almost half way into her mouth before coming back up again. Samantha felt amazing. Looking up at his face, eyes shut and mouth open in a mask of pleasure, she knew how much pleasure she was giving him with her mouth. She felt a surge of pride. Here she was, on her knees, going down on the man she’d lusted after for so long. And there he lay, moaning as she sucked him off. She’d never felt so sexy. Returning to the cock in her mouth, she began moving with renewed vigor, speeding up her strokes as she began to work the shaft with her hand as well. Moving in tandem with her fingers, she bobbed her mouth up and down vigorously, in turn making Rudy groan audibly with pleasu

A Bath with My Oldest Friend

steamy-stories-blog [https://steamy-stories-blog.tumblr.com/post/813161789025026048/a-bath-with-my-oldest-friend]: > CAT AND HENRY SHARE A RELAXING INTIMATE BATH. > > by Eeveelynn [https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=6014789&page=submissions]. Listen to the Podcast  [https://archive.org/download/spring-short-stories/ABathWithMyOldestFriend.mp3]at Steamy Stories [https://feeds.feedburner.com/steamy-stories]. > > > > > [https://64.media.tumblr.com/38ad1920a4d88e3d2c74e12d8713adcf/36b53433ae373d8a-2f/s640x960/2f15c9040b497fd272055411bf2a21d6b17afd2e.jpg] > > “Baths ready.” I heard echo out of the bathroom. > > “Thankyou.” I mumbled, getting up from the bed, slower this time. > > The bath was aromatic, full of bubbles and looked so peaceful. I leaned against the door frame closing my eyes. > > “Cat, are you going to be ok in there?” He questioned softly. > > “I’m fine!” I snapped back to reality. I was aware of my stubborn determination to be self sufficient, especially after having panic attack. > > “It’s ok to need help.” Again the soft tone of his voice irked at my independence. > > “I’m fully capable of having a bath, what are you going to do? join me? It’s ok, I’ve got this.” I said trying and failing to unzip the back of my dress. > > Keep reading [https://steamy-stories-blog.tumblr.com/post/813161789025026048/a-bath-with-my-oldest-friend]

8 Minutes In A Carwash

steamy-stories-blog [https://steamy-stories-blog.tumblr.com/post/813071133578559488/8-minutes-in-a-carwash]: > HOT SEX TO GO WITH THAT HOT WAX. > > by ClochardCeleste [https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=5757833&page=submissions], listen to the Podcast  [https://archive.org/download/spring-short-stories/8MinutesInACarWash.mp3]at Steamy Stories [https://feeds.feedburner.com/steamy-stories]. > > [https://64.media.tumblr.com/837ef21dfe0b291944008e4a149d292f/66660ed26ab70478-70/s640x960/167a1313da392b7e36d481ed5b6e541dad0dd8b0.jpg] > > We pulled in to the gas station and he put the truck in park. You want to tell me we re at a gas station at one in the morning instead of in bed at my apartment?I pointed to the long, squat building adjacent to the gas station, its drive-in conveyorized tunnel car wash. I d done a little recon on it, knew how it ran, knew all the levels of service it provided, and knew exactly how long the Ultimate Supreme Wash Plus service lasted. I d run my own car through it last week. I knew that in exactly eight minutes your car got the Simoniz double bond, the wheel brite brake dust cleaner, the tire shine, UV protectant triple foam polish, and a hot wax and shine treatment. > > Keep reading [https://steamy-stories-blog.tumblr.com/post/813071133578559488/8-minutes-in-a-carwash]