Anne Working Overtime Ch. 17

It was a ride like none she had ever had before. Her mistress gasped hoarsely and went down in a low crouch over her as she kept up the sturdy pressure on the dark head. As she slowly sank backward to lean against the wall, her skirt flipped down to cover most of Anne's head, making a dark and luscious haven out of her delightful location of labour. The fervour with which the soaked slit squeezed and pumped against her mouth was almost frightening, and for a split second she felt a surge of panic shoot through her chest. But then she went back to concentrate on using her tongue the best she could, and even try to get some air through her flaring nostrils as the pussy kept mashing itself wetly over it.

Jean came as violently as she rode, crying out as she shot a copious spurt of pussy juice into Anne's hard working mouth. Her legs trembled so hard it rocked Anne's entire body, and then they suddenly gave way and the woman slid powerlessly down along the wall to collapse in a heap on the floor. Anne hung on grimly, still drinking down the seeping juices, still working her tongue in an expertly declining rhythm in order to make the pleasure as optimal as possible – like she always did. It was after all the same old wonderful pussy. The same precious elixir that she had learned to love and appreciate so dearly over the last year. That taste that only Jean could give her. The taste that represented such tremendous levels of delightful submission and servitude.

"Anne... uh..."

"Mmmmm...?"

"I – I ... want to..." Her voice faded again, and she was silent for a moment.

Then, suddenly, Jean pushed her face brutally out of her warm haven and worked herself up and got to her feet. As she straightened her skirt and briefly checked on her hairstyle, she didn't even look Anne's way at all. She left without saying a word, as arrogantly as ever, leaving Anne behind on the floor with nothing but that sorely missed taste on her lips.

Still pretty dizzy from the brutal assault, she got up and found a napkin in Jean's special desk drawer. As she wiped her face and freshened up the best she could, she had to fight to hold her tears back. Se was so utterly confused. So totally out of grip with the way things had turned these last few days. And how on earth could it be that she didn't understand and prepare at least a little bit for something like this. After all she had sensed beyond any reasonable doubt that the situation was escalating uncontrollably. And of course she would find herself in the middle of it.Of course! How could she think that she wouldn't?

Fuck!!

She slammed her hand onto the desktop in front of her as tears blurred her vision. The pain in her palm made her crouch and groan through clenched teeth, fuelling her rage even more. Although she knew she had no reason to be angry. She knew exactly what the situation was. She had been so stupid and so naive that she deserved every last minute of it.

Alison looked like a living question mark as she came out to the reception area.

"What on earth is wrong with Ms. Alden," she asked with nervous eyes. " She looked almost crazy as she ran out the door."

"I – uh don't know..." Anne didn't feel like talking about this with anybody. At least not some quite naïve soul like this one. Or maybe she should be asking herself who's talking?

Where was Carol? Had she been exposed to Jean's labile behaviour too? Anne suddenly got an almost motherly protective concern about her. Hadn't she opened up completely to her after all? Exposed all her inner weaknesses to someone actually posing the role as her devoted and subordinated service girl. True enough it wasn't all voluntarily, but she still had given her the insight. Nobody forced her to say a word.

Alison told her she could be found in the reception room with a client. Anne went to have a look, and found her sitting over a cup of coffee with Mary Roberts. She took it that they were busy, and turned to leave, but then Carol spotted her out of the corner of her eye, and waved at her to come and join them. Anne went in a little hesitant. She hadn't seen Mary for a while, and didn't quite know how she had come along in her relationship with Jean either. As a supportive instructor, she had enjoyed a lot of 'freebies', but since she hadn't been around for a while, Anne suspected that she had been cut back as well. Could that be the reason why she had tried to connect with Carol?

From the strange look at Mary's face, she noticed that she had probably showed up at an awkward moment, after all, although Carol – always the professional also in smoothing things over – expertly and apparently undisturbed immediately switched the conversation to something else. It was done so well that it normally would have passed without a notice. But this time her senses were on alert, and she did feel the slight tension in the air. Apparently there were intrigues developing in all directions around her. It was about time she started paying attention to what went on around her. Once and for all.

And once she was at it, she also noticed that she was probably even called in for a purpose. Mary quickly got uneasy, and soon found a reason to be going. Anne knew it right away. Even now she was being used, although this time it was just for getting rid of a troublesome visitor. She did her best to swallow her pride though, and couldn't help thinking back on all the delightful moments she'd had with Mary. And – most important of all – the woman had been her first. The first lady to ever orgasm on her skilled tongue. Nothing could take that away from them!

- - -

After Mary had left, the two of them sat silently for a moment, looking each other stiffly in the eyes. Anne felt this typical uncertainty of lately, emotions flowing between love, disregard – almost a touch of spurn – compassion, pity and awe. The woman's beauty was as prominent as ever, still brutally violating all of Anne's emotional levels with its raw magnetism and unstinting aura of dominant craving. Once again she felt a growing unrest, mixed with some strange kind of embarrassment, until finally the spellbinding face broke up into that warm and comforting smile that could melt any resistance one should feel about anything on this lady's mind.

"Your place at eight tonight?"

"Uh... yes... Yes, Carol!"

She got to her feet and kissed her passionately, then breezed off to return to her office, leaving Anne with a thumping heart and a passionate lump in her throat. How could anybody in this world ever resist something like that? Especially now, as she seemed to be returning more and more back to her old self?

Normally Carol would have asked her to come to her place, but she apparently wasn't alone this afternoon. Anne had found out that she had a young girl for house-keeping and looking after her children, but it was clear to her that her services didn't go beyond that. And if they hadn't by now, they never would. But the lady was smart enough not to jeopardize the good care and upbringing of her children because of her own sexual desires. That's why Anne suspected she never even tried to get herself a girl with a broader contract.

- - -

"I noticed that something was bothering you when you came to me back in the office today. Do you want to talk about it?"

Carol put her cup down and looked at Anne with this incredibly sensuous smile of hers. The kind of smile that brought her 'old' feeling to this incredible lady welling up again. A feeling of love and awe captured by the twinkle in those magnificent eyes. Although they now reflected a well-hidden touch of unease. Still Anne was almost stunned by this new-acquired confidence Carol sported - all of a sudden. Had she been able to make some kind of settlement with Jean? Or didn't she still understand how serious her stance in the organisation actually was?

When there was no immediate response, Carol quickly switched to something else. Something much better in Anne's mind. With a broad smile she leaned back to lift her skirt and spread her legs, displaying a neatly trimmed pubic bush that made Anne shudder from desire.

"I had my hair trimmed in a new way today. Like it?" She smiled even broader, still with an imperceptible twinkle of nervousness in the corner of her eye. "Mary brought a potential service girl that she had got to know just by chance, and I interviewed her for a possible introduction to our program." She graciously spread her thighs all the way, letting a finger caress the length of her alluringly opening slit.

"I don't know though... She didn't even get me off after more than half an hour of clumsy efforts." Her smile went over into a light chuckle. "Boy did I miss you after that half hour!"

That was all the invitation Anne needed to fall down on her knees. She had been a bit worried that Carol would be there just to talk, although that would have been comforting as well. But she found that the more turbulent things got emotionally, the more she needed the comfort, safety and serenity of a pair of wonderful thighs around her cheeks. She wish she could say she would want it to be Carol's thighs - or Jean's – or anyone's thighs in particular. But the truth was, no matter how she tried to get around it, that it could beanythighs, just as long as they gave her the feeling of piece and consolation that she so desperately needed these days.

Still, it felt more wonderful than ever to feel Carol's magnificent thighs closing in around her reddening cheeks as she resolutely set to work on her favourite task. The fundamental task that gave meaning to her life. And made her existence a timeless float of bliss. And as she joyfully started her special deep penetrative thrusts, she joyfully felt the finger grasp frenziedly into her scalp to urge her on to even higher efforts.

And she delivered her best efforts ever! Her tongue found a relentlessly powerful pattern of sweeps and thrusts that had her mistress shaking like a leaf in a matter of minutes. She started leaking generous quantities of her special mixture of sticky juices and tangy urine even before her belly started convulsing wildly.

When her orgasm hit, Anne's head was clamped harder in a crushing grip of thighs and hands than she ever experienced before, holding her mercilessly in position to drink down the flood of passion that signified her ultimate success as the best service girl the world had ever seen.

The first cum just seemed like an appetizer for more, and soon they were over on the bed, Racing through two more mind-skewing blowouts in just a few minutes.

Finally Carol's body started relaxing, and a deep, almost lamenting sigh signalled the decent into the deep, immersing darkness of an almost unconscious state of bliss. A satisfaction only Anne could provide. Wonderful Anne with her incredible mouth and tongue.

As Usual Anne found the perfect level of stimulation of the over-sensitive vagina all the way down through the windy path of the lady's dawdling let-down. The deep moans and breathless whispers of her name made her almost crazy with submissive desire. So much she felt a wild desire to bury her face deep in between the perfect globes of her ass-cheeks and suffocate a thousand deaths in order to provide another ripple of pleasure in the fabulous body and mind of her wonderful mistress! Just one more impulse of pleasure...

Carol continued sighing deeply. Then, all of a sudden, she gasped. Very sort and sharp. And then her body shuddered. Almost as if she would be approaching another orgasm. Which was quite impossible considering the state of afterglow had been lulled into. A short look up through the luxuriant bush made Anne stiffen too.

The beautiful face looked terrified! Her eyes transfixed in sheer horror at something behind Anne to the right.

With a crash a clip of keys landed on the little night table beside them. As Anne worked herself up from between Carol's legs, Jean's furious profile came into view, her face contorted in a grimace of fuming rage beyond anything she had ever seen before. She looked almost wild. Wild in a way more frightening than anything she could possibly imagine. Suddenly the grey-green eyes flashed directly at her, and for a moment she was sure she was dead. More than dead! Ice-cold fear transformed into a kind of laming dark numbness; almost a kind of hopeless emptiness, draining her totally of any kind of energy even to face the raging gaze. And leaving her completely incapable of any kind of movement.

Maybe that was the way a waterhole prey felt the last split second before it was killed by its predator? It couldn't be far off, for sure. Or maybe it was a kind of dual reaction? An emptiness springing from the fact that at that moment she knew she had no feelings left for Jean Alden. Only fear, hopelessness and this terrible emptiness. And even some kind of an awakening rage on her own part.

It was clear Jean had been watching them for a while, probably waiting until they had been lulled gently into the sweet sensations of afterglow. Now was the time to deliver the fatal blow.

"You forgot I still have a key to the flat" she sneered, her voice shaking as her eyes went from one to the other. "Myflat!"

Carol had remained in the same position, lewdly spread right in front of Anne's flushed face. A few strands of saliva, now getting uncomfortably cold and slimy, still stretched from her saturated pussy over to the girl's lips. Anne clumsily wiped most of it off with the back of her hand as she worked herself over to the side, more as some kind of reflex self-protection move than anything else. Because from this position she was even more exposed to the infuriated gaze.

Then Jean's eyes fell on Carol. The lady seemed to come around with a jerk, and brought her legs together in a move so abrupt a powerful calf rasped painfully across Anne's head. She moved to sit up as she instinctively tugged the edge of her skirt in a futile effort to cover up.

Jean's eyes narrowed into tiny cracks. "You bitch," she yelled. Her right arm made a meticulous swing and landed the flat of her hand into Carol's face with a terrifying slap. The woman's head wrenched over sideward, and she fell stiffly back on the bed.

With a wild shriek Jean jumped down at her, aiming for her friend's face and hair with razor-sharp nails. She landed so heavily that the suspensions threw them both back up again, sending them tumbling over the bedside and crashing into the closet door behind it in a dishevelled heap of waving arms and legs, and with an almost deafening crashing and rumbling. A shoe flew in an arch through the air and almost hit Anne's head as she stood completely awe-struck by the outrageous sight.

The girl still was unable to move a muscle. Stiff as a log she stood, nailed to the floor, heart pounding wildly, not having the slightest idea what to do. All kind of thoughts raced through her mind in an chaotic blur. Should she try to rescue Carol somehow? Or help Jean pin her down? Try to get back on the horse with her once mistress of all times? And who was she to ever think that her physical presence would make any more of a difference than her mental? Even on those terms she was fundamentally inferior, a mouse between giants.

The screaming and sounds of slaps and thuds filled her ears and made her crazy. Just like the visual effect of the arms and legs kicking wildly around as the bed was knocked out of position and pushed creakingly out across the floor against her. As the night table went over crashed to the floor, she could see a panty-covered behind rising above the mattress as one of them crawled over for a new attack. In a split second, the image of the white, lacy crotch digging in between fat pussy lips and blatantly baring the whole mighty crack froze in her mind, releasing a surge of passion somewhere deep in her stinging belly. Then it went out of sight as a terrifying flat-handed slap released another wild scream from down there.

Anne escaped. Shame and desperation burning in her cheeks. Out the door and down the stairs. Out into the cool darkness of the evening, tears flowing from her eyes so she could hardly see anything in front of her. She ran at least two blocks before she even realized that she was barefoot except for the nylons she had on. They were already destroyed, and on one foot it already lay like a wrinkled crease around her ankle.

She stopped and leaned to a lamppost as she struggled to catch up with her breathing. Her hair hung in wild, sweaty tresses down her head and into her face. An older couple looked at her with a shocked expression on their faces. As the man carefully approached her to ask if she was all right, she abruptly turned and started walking stiffly back the way she came. The last thing she needed right now was someone who should try to understand something that couldn't be understood at all. Not in a world outside the paradise she'd been living in up until recently.

Even though the evening was quite warm, the concrete sidewalk was quite cold under her feet, and she knew she had nowhere to go. Nowhere to run to. Not just yet, anyway.

How could she be so stupid? The thought came back to her over and over again. How could she base her life on a thing like this, thinking that everything would be all right on the long run in such a love-drenched environment? With so many strong and powerful women fighting for the supremacy of the right to her talents? How could she be so incredibly stupid??

She found a suitable place to sit on a service door housing beside the stairs of the building opposite to her flat. Huskily she crept together in the deep shadow of the stairs as she started to observe the door to her own flat. The tears of desperation were slowly drying on her cheeks, adding to the mental chill she felt creeping in over her faster than the physical one.

Suddenly she saw Jean half running down the stairs and jumping in to a car parked some 50 yards up the street. She took off with screaming tyres, and was off in a cloud of dust and burnt rubber. As the sound of her engine faded away, Anne shifted her attention back to her flat and looked and listened intensively for any sigh of life. Anything at all.

The curtain swirled lightly in a gentle wisp in the window she normally kept open. That told her nothing. She waited a couple of agonizing minutes, hoping for at least a tiny signal that Carol was alive and well in there. Just the thought made her numb and she felt the panic as a tight squeeze on her throat; What if Jean had...? No! It couldn't be! It just couldn't be something like that. Not like that! Not in her wonderful world of love and passion and dedication to serve. It just couldn't.

She jumped to her feet and ran across the street and up the front stairs. In the hallway inside she stopped, and walked the stairs slowly as she continued listening for any sounds. Her heart thumped like a piston as she gazed around the bend. She saw the door to her flat slightly ajar, with light seeping gently out into the hallway... Like someone would hold it open to wish her welcome...

Carol was sitting at the kitchen sink with a glass of water in her hand. Completely sunk together. She was bleeding from several cuts and bruises in her face, and there was a small, read pool on the floor under her. As she heard the creaking of Anne's footstep, her head flow up with a hysterical expression on her face. She looked so terrible, so incredibly mistreated that Anne backed up instinctively. Then she stood like nailed to the floor. In a flash a picture of some kind of a medieval witch flew across her mind. That's how bad she looked. When she understood who it was, she sank together again... and started sobbing hysterically.

Unable to think of anything else to do, Anne got down on her knees beside her and tried to comfort her - somehow. As she put her hand over her shoulder, the woman jumped slightly. Then her body crumpled stiffly, and suddenly she threw herself forward and vomited into the sink with a terrible gurgling sound. The cramp-like reflexes were so powerful that some of it almost gushed back up as the woman screamed in intense agony. A scream so very different from those other ones Anne had heard and cherished so often.