Busty Maid Nao Jinguji Ready For Sex. The landlord had finally lost patience, or perhaps found some sympathy after all this time. Either way, he’d arranged for a professional service. Kenji hadn’t let anyone inside his small, cluttered apartment in years. Books, empty instant noodle containers, mountains of unwashed clothes – it was a self-imposed fortress of neglect. He barely opened the door when the bell rang, just enough to see a woman standing there, neat in a simple polo shirt and dark pants, a cleaning caddy beside her.
“Hello,” she said, her voice soft but clear. “I’m Nao Jinguji. The landlord asked me to come and help with the cleaning.”
Kenji mumbled something unintelligible and stepped back, letting her in. The air, thick with the scent of dust and stale food, seemed to recoil as she entered. Nao Jinguji didn’t flinch. She just gave a small, professional smile and immediately started sizing up the chaos.
She worked with a quiet efficiency that was almost mesmerizing. Kenji retreated to a corner, watching her move. Soon, the quiet shuffling turned into focused action. Dust flew, surfaces emerged from under piles, and the rhythmic sweep of her broom filled the silence. It wasn’t long before the physical effort started to show. A faint sheen appeared on her forehead, then beaded at her temples as she tackled stubborn grime in the tiny kitchen area.
As she bent over, scrubbing at a stain near the floor, the simple fabric of her polo shirt grew taut across her back. Sweat began to darken the material between her shoulder blades and under her arms. The thin cotton, damp now, started to cling, revealing the outline of her bra beneath. Kenji’s eyes, unused to focusing on anything but screens and dust motes, were drawn to the curve of her spine, the way her hips swayed slightly with the motion of her work.
She moved to the small living area, pushing aside stacks of magazines. As she knelt, reaching under the low table, her pants stretched tight over her backside. The sweat had worked its magic there too; the dark fabric was becoming translucent where it pressed against her skin. He could make out the definite line of her panties, then the lush, generous curve of her buttock beneath it. His breath hitched. He hadn’t felt this kind of purely physical reaction in… he couldn’t even remember how long.
Nao stood up, pushing a stray strand of hair away from her face, leaving a smudge of dust on her cheek. She turned, her chest rising and falling gently from the exertion. The clinging fabric across her front now clearly delineated the fullness of her breasts pushing against the thin cloth and the delicate lace of her bra. They were higher, rounder than he had expected. As she reached for a cleaning spray, her body twisted slightly, emphasizing the beautiful, heavy shape pressing against her shirt.
Kenji felt a warmth spread through him, then a tightening. His gaze was fixed on her, unable to look away. It was involuntary, primal. And completely obvious. Beneath the loose sweatpants he wore, a hard, undeniable ridge began to form. His dick, dormant for so long, was straining against the fabric, swollen and throbbing.
Nao finished spraying a surface and turned back towards him. Her eyes, previously focused on the task, flicked down for just a second. They landed on his lap.
Kenji froze. His blood ran cold, then hot. He was exposed. Caught staring, caught hard. Humiliation washed over him. He wanted to disappear.
But Nao Jinguji didn’t look away in embarrassment. She didn’t scold him or pretend not to see. Instead, a slow, knowing smile spread across her face. It wasn’t mocking. It was… predatory? Playful? Something utterly unexpected.
She set the spray bottle down deliberately. She walked towards him, her damp clothes clinging, highlighting every curve with devastating clarity. She stopped right in front of him.
“Well, hello there,” she murmured, her voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent a jolt through him. Her eyes met his, dark and intense.
Before he could stammer a word, she reached out a hand, not to slap him, but to gently cup the hard bulge straining against his pants. She kneaded him softly through the fabric. Kenji gasped.
“Looks like all this cleaning is getting you excited,” she purred, her thumb circling the head of his cock.
He could only nod, speechless.
She leaned closer, her scent – sweat, cleaning solution, and something uniquely her own – flooding his senses. “No need to be shy,” she said, her free hand going to her belt. She unbuckled it slowly, her eyes never leaving his. Then she reached down and unzipped her pants.
Kenji watched, dumbfounded, as she pushed her dark pants down to her knees, then stepped out of them. She was wearing simple white cotton panties, now damp and practically transparent from her sweat, clinging snugly to her magnificent butt. She shrugged off her polo shirt next, revealing the sweat-soaked, lacy bra struggling to contain her overflowing breasts.
“Cleaning can be hard work,” she said, reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra. It fell away, leaving nothing but her gloriously full, pendulous breasts bouncing slightly with the movement. Her nipples were dark and erect. “Sometimes you need a little… relief.”
She kicked her pants and shirt further away, then pulled down her damp panties, revealing the dark tangle of hair at her crotch. She was completely naked now, standing before him in the middle of his cluttered apartment, glistening with sweat, looking like the fulfillment of every dormant fantasy he hadn’t even realized he had.
“Come on,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him gently towards the floor. He stumbled after her, his erection still painfully hard. She knelt, then gently pushed him onto his back.
“Let’s get this mess sorted out,” she said, her voice regaining a playful lilt. She straddled his legs, her warm, wet pussy hovering just inches from his throbbing cock.
And then, Nao Jinguji, the cleaning lady sent by the landlord, began her real work. She took his erection into her hand, stroking him expertly, making him groan. Then she lowered her head, her mouth hot and wet around his shaft, teasing him with her tongue. She bounced her breasts against his chest, letting their full weight smother him. She used her butt, pressing her smooth wet ass cheeks against his face, grinding against his hips. And when she was finished playing, she guided his cock, slick with her spit and his pre-cum, towards her waiting pussy. She lowered herself onto him slowly, taking him fully inside her wet heat with a groan of pleasure that was surprisingly genuine.
It wasn’t just once. Not that day, and not on the days that followed. Nao Jinguji returned, ostensibly to finish the cleaning, but the real purpose of her visits quickly became clear. Each time, the sweat, the clinging clothes, the undeniable erection, would lead to that same knowing smile, that same stripping away of professional pretense, that same incredible, all-encompassing service. Hand jobs, blow jobs, her heavy breasts pressed against him as he thrust, her round ass shaking as she rode him, her tight, wet pussy squeezing his cock dry again and again until he was spent, collapsed beneath her, the smell of sex and cleaning products filling the air. It was a service package the landlord definitely hadn’t mentioned, a cleaning service that took care of more than just the dust. With Nao Jinguji, readiness for sex was just part of the job description.
