When my law firm sent me to Brussels to cover for our a vacancy in our EU team they arranged for me to stay at a service apartment just off the Avenue Terveuren close to the city centre. The apartment came with the usual concierge service and a weekly cleaner. The cleaner was a Filipino woman called Diwata. She must have been in her early fifties and was chubby, cheerful and possessed a version of English which can only have been learned in a bar or a brothel. I once came in the late afternoon to find her still there. She explained: - Sorry Mr Jack’, hoover fucked again. She had a family back in the Philippines but flew home only every couple of years. I said to her one day that she must miss her family. - Sure Mr Jack, she said. Miss husband and girls. Miss good fuck often also. She could see how startled I was at her crude response and waggled her hips. - Not be shocked Mr Jack. You want fuck you just ask. Anytime. After that she often peppered her conversation with sexy talk. Just to throw me off balance, I thought. The truth was that I did think about fucking her. The image of her chubby body, underneath a tight white housemaid’s overall, gave me many a pleasurable wank. One day I was late leaving the apartment. I had showered and was still in the bathroom and absentmindedly playing with a firm cock and weighing up the pros and cons of opting for a full-on wank when the door opened. It was Diwata who took one look at me naked with my firm cock in my hand and clapped her hand to her mouth. - Oh fucking God. Sorry Mr Jack. She shut the door rapidly and I wrapped a large towel around myself. I would have to pass her again in the sitting room on my way to the bedroom where I could change. She was bent over a low table busily dusting but caught my eye. - Sorry Mr Jack. Not mean to catch you wanking. The sight of her bent over the table meant that my erection refused to die down – a sight that was plainly obvious to Diwata. - Hey Mr Jack you still excited. Diwata sort you out, she laughed. She left her dusting and climbed on to the sofa, hoisted her overall to her hips, pulled down her panties and tan pantyhose, opened her fleshy thighs and knelt on all fours. - Give me good fucking Mr Jack. Good for you, good for me. I had always imagined that her pussy would quite hairless but quite the reverse; she was reached a hand between her legs into a thick curly black bush to part the lips of her cunt with two fat fingers. -Come on Mr Jack. Put your big thingy in me. Give me good hard hump. Pussy always wet, you slide in nicely. I let the towel drop to my feet and walked over to her. My cock didn’t need much encouragement; just the sight of her huge backside in front of me made me rock-hard. She was right. Her pussy was hot and sticky and soon I had my full length in and was shafting her quickly and roughly, holding on to her wide hips for balance. Diwata began grunting and babbling and I could feel the tightness of her cunt turn into a slick tunnel which began to fart as I pounded into her. Lifting one hand she unbuttoned her coverall and moaned. - Undo bra Mr Jack. Feel tits. Without breaking pace I unclipped her bra and reached around to take a handful of her tits. They were large and heavy and the nipples felt full and hard. As I pinched she grunted even harder. I knew I could hold out for much longer and cried out: - Jesus I’m coming you bitch. - Wait, wait Mr Jack, she pleaded and broke free to swivel and to face me; sitting now with her tits dangling and face red with exertion. - Make you cum big Mr Jack, she said and took my cock with one hand and thrust the other between my legs. Wanking me hard and fast I felt her slip two fingers into my anus and curl inward to massage my prostate. Within seconds I felt my spunk rise. The first two rounds hit her square in the face, the remaining four or five brought great gobs of spunk oozing out of my snake-eye. I’d never seen so much cum erupt from my cock. She leant back and wiped the cum from her face. - You got plenty more cum Mr Jack?, she asked You rest a minute then we fuck again. You want my mouth or my arsehole this time? And we did, that morning and for the rest of my time in Brussels