Purring contentedly, naked on her big bed, Vera luxuriated in the touch of the hands gliding over her back. The skilled hands of her maid, as good as any professional masseuse. Even better, perhaps, here in the more conducive atmosphere of the boudoir, redolent of delicate feminine fragrances rather than detergents and deodorants and rubbing alcohol compounds. How could such services remain purely professional in this atmosphere of hushed intimacy? Here a massage isn't just a massage…
"Not too much for you, is it, ma'am? Sometimes I don't know my own strength. Me and my muscles."
"It's okay. A little muscle is what I need. I gain weight so easily these days. Or haven't you noticed?"
"Well, maybe a few ounces here and there, nothing to worry about. You still look great to me. Gorgeous as ever."
"That's encouraging. Thank you, dear. A little muscle for my ass and a little flattery for my ego. Solange, what would I ever do without you?"
A dry chuckle sounded answer enough and Vera purred again, basking in the congenial warmth. Nice to be told that she hadn't lost her looks. Especially since it was something she really dreaded. It was bound to happen eventually, of course, a grimly portentous trauma for every beautiful woman edging past her prime and there was less conceit than candor in the unblushing reflection that she had always been a beauty. As attested to by the pictures on these bedroom walls, all mounted and framed for posterity. Pictures of herself in a dozen different poses. They too were beautiful, particularly the glamorous color shots that brought out the harmonious contrast of her blue eyes and auburn hair.
But even the black-and-white full-length photographs pointed up the curves of her body. Were those curves still the same today? Had she put on too many unwanted ounces? Pounds? Too bad there weren't a few nudes in her photo collection, some means of attempting a more accurate comparison. She wondered how much of a disappointment it would be. Flattery was nice to hear, but with Solange in that mellow mood of hers it had to be taken with a grain of salt. Such an expansive mood lately, doubtless the result of her dealings with their cute little houseguest. There were no more complaints of boredom, no more vague but ominously repetitious threats to quit her job and seek greener fields. For which Vera was duly grateful and just a bit curious, much as she hated to admit it. Hardly an unwarranted curiosity, though; after all, it was happening right here in her own home. Despite her deliberate "hands off policy, she did feel a certain involvement. Enough to ask for a general progress report, anyhow, if not the specific details.
"Solange… "
"Ma'am?"
"Tell me, how is your new affair going?"
"Affair?"
"You know. With the kid."
"Oh. That. It isn't even an affair yet."
"But but you must have made a beginning… "
"I guess so. Sure. A pretty good beginning, come to think of it. Kind of slow maybe, but I'm taking no chances. I wouldn't want to scare her off."
"She won't scare so easily."
"No? You figure that, Miz Vera? Glad to hear it. I've been getting a little impatient for some real action. But what's to stop her from just running out on us?"
"Well, uh, it's only a hunch on my part, but I doubt if she's very anxious to get back out on the road again. Not after the way I've made her feel at home here. Buying clothes for her, treating her like an honored guest instead of just a casual pickup. Oh no, our little Miss Judy Jones is in no hurry to leave. I'd lay odds on that. So if it's action you're looking for… "
"Action. More than I've had so far, at least. But even after what you just said, I'd still be leery of coming on too strong with the kid that's my hunch."
"Use your own judgment, then. As long as you're happy doing it, as long as you don't get bored, my dear. I brought her here just for you, remember? She's all yours. A toy, a plaything, a little girl-doll to keep you amused; wasn't that what I told you?"
"Uh-huh. I remember. A toy. Interesting thought makes me feel almost possessive about her, you know? Hey, that must be why I'm becoming so impatient! Yeah. It's not just the sex, it's this other thing, this urge for possession it's been on my mind all along, I guess. I really do want to make her all mine."
"Do you? Well now, you just might get your chance. I mean really, a chance to take over completely. I just might be able to arrange it, with luck on our side. Anyway, there's a possibility of something like that, it's not just a pipe-dream. Let me work on it awhile, okay? There's some information I've got to track down first. Let's hope for the best."
"I'm hoping, I'm hoping. Unless maybe you're putting me on. But you wouldn't do that, would you? Ma'am? No, of course not. You're always so good to me. Best mistress I ever worked for. And the prettiest, too. Mmm, your skin is so soft… "
The massaging hands seemed almost worshipful, more effective than ever in their ministrations. As though this show of gratitude had somehow augmented an already superlative technical skill. Vera began to purr again, visualizing those cafe-au-lait hands on their journey down her spine. Right down to her milky-creamy ass. And then back up once more, up to seek out and smooth away every last little knot in her neck and shoulders…
"Over, ma'am?"
"Hmm?"
"Time to turn over. I'll do you in front."
"You'll do me? Not yet, you sexy bitch. Just keep rubbing my back, it helps me think. And I've got some heavy thinking to do. Problems to solve, decisions to make. So stop sniffing around, my dear, get your mind off sex! If that's possible. Or at least wait until I'm ready for you."
"Oh? I thought you were."
"Sorry to disappoint you. I'm not even warmed-up yet."
"Is that so? Hah! You could have fooled me."
A snort, another chuckle, a moment of hilarity for both of them communication without words and it was as if they had sat down together and come to a swift agreement. Like an exercise in diplomacy. Dubious as her criticism had been, Vera knew its underlying significance hadn't gone astray. Sex wasn't taboo, merely postponed for a few minutes. That always added to the excitement, a nice built-up head of steam. And meanwhile, well, she did have some things to think about.
For the time being, anyway, everything was running smoothly here at home. Now she could concentrate on her conquest of Alison Laird. Uh-huh. Conquest. Total conquest, far beyond the already accomplished seduction. It was part of a plan the plan to end her financial woes. And the prospects were looking better with every visit; the blonde heiress seemed almost anxious to go on exploring that doubly aberrant facet of their relationship, showing great promise along those lines. Oh yes, there was a core of hot sensuality underneath that deceptively innocent surface and the beautiful young "sensualist" was gradually becoming a willing accomplice in her own corruption. Now if they could only get together more often and speed up the process…
Hmm. Talk about corruption! There was plenty of it right here, a lovely brand of corruption, soft and subtle and cunningly designed to shorten the postponement. Those hands were straying again, slyly but with apparent purpose. And as the warm palms drifted downward, Vera's flickering excitement became a steady glow. It was no longer just a simple massage. The adroit fingers were turning insidiously artful, already hinting for permission to delve and forage and fool around back there. Pretty bold, really, despite the coy approach, bold even for such a highly prized maid. Just who did she think she was?
But it was still quite pleasant and Vera adopted a momentarily permissive attitude, her tiny flash of pique blurred by a thickening sense of well-being. The hands had scooped up more scented oil to slather on, stroking it to a warmth that permeated the air with an intoxicating aroma. Slathering it on and smearing it in deep, the perfumed unguent, intimately deep and for one breathless instant she felt an even more audacious touch, a finger that must have wandered away from the others. Only it wasn't wandering at all, that casual but calculating fingertip, now it was seeking, probing, prying, opening her body to its obscene invasion. Her buttocks jiggled and parted wide, yielding to the pressure.
She moaned, unable to voice the rebuke that came to her lips, spellbound by the mysterious power of that inescapable length of rigidly plumbing flesh. It was even a bit embarrassing, stuck like that, pinned to the bed by a single finger, just that one long stiff finger buried in her ass. Unbearable. Deliciously unbearable! It held her paralyzed, mired in a kind of rueful rapture. Worse yet, its more pointed effect was broadening, spreading insistently, fanning outward like a forest fire in a drought. Her loins were ablaze with need, a greater need than this one licentious contact could satisfy. And as the frustration grew, so did her embarrassment the need was simply too big to ignore; wasn't it just too demeaning for words?
Only the words had become a painful necessity. "Please… " A whisper was all she could manage, like the choked sound of a shy schoolgirl asking to leave the room. "Let me roll over now. Don't you want to suck me? Suck my cunt?"
Turning her face, she went laboriously into the spiral movement without waiting for a reply. The imbedded finger remained a hindrance, easing off only slightly. But the hand itself helped, lifting her rump in the right direction. And the other hand was already at her shoulder to facilitate the somewhat strenuous maneuver. Only that one didn't do much good, actually, just holding on for balance as Solange's head bent to welcome the gradual appearance of her bosom with a flurry of kisses. An enthusiastic welcome, enthusiastic but scarcely fulfilling at this stage of the game. Lips caressed her breasts. Avid lips that fastened upon one nipple and then the other, pulling and tugging each in turn as she continued the twisting motion. Past the halfway point, she found the going easier and fell back supine with a peremptory wriggle of her bottom that finally got through to that sticky finger, dislodging it in a hurry. She almost missed it, conscious of the sudden void. But then miraculously! those kissing lips got the message, too, slithering down in all due haste, unerringly oriented now, eliciting a wail of impatience as the warm wetness traveled across her belly.
"There. Yes. My cunt, my cunt… "
"Oh, I love it when you're so hot!"
"Don't talk. Suck!"
That did it. Vera shivered in joy at the first touch of that familiar tongue. Ah yes, her understanding maid was an even more understanding lover. Such a lusciously leeching mouth! The mouth of an experienced and highly efficient cuntlapper, diligent to a fault. Its technique seldom failed. And yet, unaccountably, the rising curve of pleasure seemed to be leveling off. As though the technical aspect of Solange's lovemaking wasn't enough this time, just this once. And she was trying so hard, too, doing it like a slave almost, crouched at the foot of the bed now…
Like a slave?
Vera lost track temporarily, shutting her eyes and letting her mind veer crazily. It came to her then, floating in from out of nowhere that beautiful young face with the rosebud lips and velvety dark eyes and a complexion like blushing ivory so vivid against the black backdrop of her sealed eyelids. A hallucination? Well, not exactly, her mind hadn't gone that crazy. Nor had it veered so far from present reality, either. After all, it was Alison's show of interest that had brought the "sexy slave-girl" memories back and into focus. Funny. After all these years. So long ago even that wild affair with Ethel, right after her first divorce. When she was whoring around so much. A whore, practically. In the wildest of wildly perverted lesbian affairs. Hmm, wouldn't Alison like to hear about that!
Sexy slave-girl. A real one, not just a paid servant. Vera could hardly wait to see her again, this prospective slave-girl of hers; a slave-girl with money, imagine! Oh, to have that lofty little golden head bowed down between her legs in self-abasement, the rosy innocence soiling itself with sinful cunt, tarnished forever in the heat of a thousand feverishly humble kisses. That was the kind of slave she wanted. Not this crouching maid, necessary only as a front, a facade to conceal the pockmarks and poverty-warts on her slowly vanishing style of existence. But she would have to keep this one to win that one, of course a fine servant in the house was indispensable to the Carlisle tradition. So right now wouldn't it be smart to get her roving mind back on the track again? The main track?
"Oooh, what an idea!"
"Umm… "
"I just thought of something. Solange? About the kid what's-her-name, your little toy isn't it more than just an urge for possession? You're too old to play with toys. I'll bet you'd like to break her in for real, hmm? Maybe even make a slave out of her. A cute little slave-girl kneeling at your feet… "
It was a shot in the dark, impulsive but apparently well-aimed. Followed by a stunned lull. Then the delayed reaction struck, an eagerly bobbing head and a frantic mouth that seemed to breathe new life into the caress. Vera arched up at it, a bit desperate herself now, goaded into a horizontal bump-and-grind to intensify the already accomplished total merger. As if some raw-nerved instinct was driving her cunt to suck back at that sucking mouth. To swallow or be swallowed. Or could she do both at once?
There was a fluttering motion centered within the contact, an educated tickle. That squirmy-eel tongue had lost none of its expertise, she noted. Inevitably, though, the meticulously detailed performance began to pall again; it was almost clinical now, despite the murky intimacies. Vera muttered a silent oath, aware that the only fitting conclusion to this seductively professional massage was still out of reach. What a letdown! And after all the embarrassment she had gone through to get there, too. Now she actually resented it, this stupid setback. Hmm. Or was that because of the embarrassment? The awful embarrassment and the coquettish insolence of a maidservant who had obviously forgotten her station in life; what mistress wouldn't be resentful in such a plight? Maybe it was time to call a halt and put the pegs in their proper niches. Only she didn't have to call a halt, of course, not for that. This vengeful dispenser of justice was no longer a shy schoolgirl about to wet her bloomers.
There now, the moment of decision was over. Vera started the slowly wriggling turn, another spiral twist from the top down, easing toward a prone position with her face already burrowing comfortably into the pillow. It was an unhurried procedure, smooth and gradual throughout, nearing completion without any noticeable disruption of service. Nearing the crucial point…
A gasp; then, "Ma'am?"
"Can't you guess?"
"Oh. But… but-"
"But nothing. You were pretty mean to me a while ago. Pretty rough too, right where I'm sensitive. It still hurts. The least you can do is soothe it a little, wouldn't you say?"
"Uh-huh. You want me to make it all well again, ma'am? With a nice soft kiss?"
"Do that. Yeah. Since you're so fond of my ass. Soothe it with a nice soft kiss. And maybe a nice soft tongue, hmm? You know how. Do it, do it, soothe my bruised asshole with that nice soft fucking tongue of yours!"
"Oh!"
"Sexy bitch… "
"You're the sexy one. The sexiest "
"Come on, what are you waiting for?"
But the wait was already over and Vera could only sigh and accept her due with good grace, congratulating herself on the successful turnabout. A well-executed maneuver. That's putting the bold bitch in her place! Only the "good grace" wasn't so easy now, not with that hot tongue stretching deep and still squirming around to go deeper. The squirmy-eel tongue. From a highly charged electric eel, no doubt. With current to burn, a hot current with a most invigorating effect, arousing fresh desire and stirring her to take action on her own behalf.
It was almost instinctive, this sudden change, a lurching movement that raised her buttocks and brought her bent knees in under them. A deliciously vulnerable position! But she could sure help the cause a little, thrusting her reared-up ass back hard into that open mouth, impaling herself upon that elongated tongue. As if her asshole had to suck back, too. Just like her cunt. Or maybe she couldn't even tell the difference now, the way the lovely sensation had broadened its scope to include everything. Lovely, lovely! But vulnerable, sure enough. Wide-open. Undefended. Practically inviting trouble. Inviting something, anyway or had the invitation already been acknowledged?
So it appeared. She could feel the brush of hands in front now, sneaky hands taking advantage of every opening, traveling separate routes to the same goal. Meddlesome hands so busy, so many enterprising fingers! cleaving the lips of her cunt, creeping in to capture her clitoris. While in back the hungrily wedged-in face worked with renewed fervor to occupy every available inch of secret flesh, the furrow between her buttock cheeks a hot mouth funneling much of its energy and most of its urgency into the tip-end of that slimy ass-loving tongue. And then somehow, exquisitely, it became all one sensation again, voluptuous, and she simply surrendered with a joyous sob and let herself be inveigled into a slowly enveloping swoon…