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And Marcelle seems to love it. She’s writhing and moaning. Coaxing him to bite her nipples. Demanding that he suck harder. Now she’s speaking softly, whispering in his ear. She lifts her uniform, welcoming him between her legs.
Marcelle has always enjoyed the flirtatious advances of men; still, I never expected her to take it this far. I shake my head regretfully as it dawns on me that every man that enters my home—service workers, business associates—has enjoyed the pleasure of my maid.
I’ve done everything to keep her happy. I bow down to her and worship at her feet. For her to fuck another man in my home, right under my nose, is unconscionable. Her deceit is unforgivable. We had an agreement that as long as I obeyed her, she would eventually allow me to fuck her. But she’s nothing more than a dick tease; she never intended to make good on her promise.
I gaze with contempt in my eyes as a stranger sticks an unworthy dick inside her, impaling her with a violent thrust.
It’s cruel. Unfair. I can hardly bear to watch, but I’m morbidly fascinated. The deliveryman is ramming Marcelle, pulling her close and pounding her possessively, asking if her pussy belongs to him.
I’m incensed, yet my dick betrays me; it stiffens when I hear Marcelle murmur, “This pussy is all yours, baby.”
I can no longer witness this atrocity. With my head hung in sorrow, I turn away and woefully climb the stairs. Back in my position on the bed, it is clear to me that I’ve allowed Marcelle to play me for a fool.
When Marcelle finally returns to the bedroom, her uniform is crumpled and her hair is tousled. A taunting smile curves the corners of her mouth. “I’m tired from cleaning.” She stretches out on the bed. Lying on her back, she places her hand on her head, feigning exhaustion.
I’m appalled. She reeks of sex. She’s covered with the masculine sweat of a brawny laborer. Sad as it may seem, I still want to put my dick inside her. I yearn to penetrate her whoring pussy, and so I have no choice but to go along with the ruse.
“I’m so tired. I need a back rub, darling,” she tells me, pretending to be frazzled from hard work. I know what she’s really been up to, but I can’t divulge the fact that I’ve violated her rules.
She comes out of her uniform and lies on her tummy. I’m relieved that her lovely back has not been defiled with that man’s sweaty stench.
Adoringly, I caress her skin, rubbing gently, kneading the imaginary knots. All the while, I’m secretly hoping that I’ve finally earned the right to penetrate her pussy.
“Feels good,” she says, enjoying my touch. I smile with pride.
“That’s enough foreplay,” she says suddenly. Without warning, she gets on her hands and knees. “You’ve been a very good boy. You deserve a reward. Fuck me,” she orders.
Delighted, I oblige. I grab her hips before she can change her mind. Frantic, I quickly slip my knob inside her slit. Her pussy is overly wet and juicy. It feels as if I’ve plunged into a wonderfully slimy abyss.
“Like it?” she murmurs as I deliver dick strokes into a pussy that’s saturated with a combination of female juices and masculine cum.
“Love it,” I respond breathily, steadily stroking through the pool of lust.
“Was this pussy worth waiting for?”
“Yes,” I honestly admit. The pussy that the deliveryman has prepped for me is the best I’ve ever had.
• • •
The CD is playing a live John Coltrane session. While Marcelle lounges, sipping champagne, and eating chocolate-covered strawberries, her foot wiggles to the sound of Coltrane’s saxophone.
I cheerfully don her work uniform and do housework with a smile on my face. After I finish dusting, I carefully close the parlor door. I don’t want to disturb my mistress with the roar of a vacuum cleaner.
A noise from outside distracts me. Peeking through the curtains, I see that the grocery van has arrived.
Another delivery; I smile.
Unashamedly wearing Marcelle’s uniform, I open the back door and ad
mit yet another muscular man.
I knock on the door to the parlor. Marcelle tells me to come in.
“Mistress, there’s a deliveryman in the kitchen.”
“Did you tip him?” Her eyes glimmer with interest.
“No, not yet.”
