Quiet Servitude Pt. 01

I didn't know how much more I could stand. My own hand had worked its way up under the knee length hem of my stiff uniform, across the nylons of my inner thigh and finally to the waist of my restrictive undergarments. The cool touch of my fingers finally invaded the soft satin of my panties and found the heated shaft of my own penis longing for a personal touch. The gentle rubbing of my hand sent waves of joy through my body. It was almost too much to bear as I opened my eyes again and found the pair still at it on the couch, my wife's hips working against his groin, her own silk panties rubbing against him. It was his turn to moan as she pulled him closer to her chest to muffle the sound, her gentle grinding speeding up. I could feel the familiar tightening in my groin as an orgasm was approaching, the pressure building to the point I couldn't hold it in any longer. As if on cue I could see Terry's own body stiffen, his mouth pulling away from hers, eyes closed tight as he reached his own climax, both of our bodies shuddering as the cum shot out in wave after glorious wave of white fluid, my portion landing on my hand, body and panties. I tried to control my labored breathing and regain my senses as Christa held the now silent Terry against her bosom, both enjoying the intense climax. Aware now that they were beginning to draw apart I quickly walked across the carpeted dining room from sight and after removing my heels with the one free hand I darted across the cool tiled floor of the kitchen to the bathroom where I closed and locked the door, resting for minute in complete darkness trying to gather myself. My penis gave one final shudder trying to finish its task when I slid my hand up slightly, feeling the hot, sticky material against my body. Switching on the light, I pulled up the hem of uniform around my waste and pulled out my undergarments as far as I could, reaching for tissue and beginning to clean up the mess staining my panties as best I could. Flushing the evidence, I washed up and looked at my reflection in the mirror. I wiped away the small beads of perspiration that had formed on my top lip and chin and checked my makeup. All in all I still looked relatively unscathed by the days events.

I took a deep breath and slid back into my heels before opening the door and stepping back into the kitchen. Just as I emerged from the hallway and approached the stove in the kitchen I heard movement behind me. Steeling myself, I checked to see that dinner was progressing as expected and I turned around to find Christa opening the refrigerator and taking out two beers. She had changed into sweats.

"How is it coming?" she asked, straightening up and closing the door.

"It will be ready right at 6 p.m. ma'am." I said, turning to face her.

She stepped forward with a smile on her face and opened both beers, taking a swig from one.

"Thank you Stacy. Please let us know when it's ready."

She reached up and smoothed the sleeve of my uniform.

"Keep up the good work."

With that she turned and strolled out to the patio where Terry was sitting, still wearing jeans and the same shirt. She handed him a beer and sat down across from him while I continued with dinner, removing the rolls from the oven and placing them on the dinner table along with the usual assortment of utensils.

A few minutes later I pulled out the main course, transferred it to the serving dish and placed it on dinner table. I lowered the lights to a comfortable setting and walked through the great room to the doorwall; my hips swaying pleasingly as my heels carried me across the carpeting. I could see that Terry and Christa were alone out on the deck so I stepped through the doorwall and approached the table, my hands clasped in front of me.

"Dinner is ready ma'am." I said.

"Excellent. Thank you."

I headed back inside and started straightening up the kitchen. When I saw the pair enter the dining room and sit down I stepped inside.

Terry was the first to speak.

"This looks great Stacy."

"Thank you sir." I replied with pride. It wasn't difficult to make but I was still proud it had turned out perfectly. "Is there anything else you need? Another drink perhaps?"

"Yes. Thank you. Two more beers please." Christa spoke.

I nodded and withdrew to the kitchen where I took out too more beers and headed back to the dining room setting a beer down in front of each and grabbing the empties.

"Please let me know if you need anything else." I said as I returned to the kitchen to make myself a plate not realizing how hungry I had been. As I continued to eat, I could hear forks and plates banging together as Terry and Christa continued to dine, small conversation floating to the kitchen. After finishing my first piece of chicken and several potatoes, I got up from the barstool upon which I sat and returned to the dining room, asking if there was anything that they needed. Despite the strange events of Stacy's first day, things were going smoothly and I was proud in my performance so far.

"We're fine, thank you. Please fix yourself a plate."

"Thank you ma'am." I said, realizing I was apparently supposed to wait to eat.

I made a mental note and returned to my meal, savoring another buttered roll as Christa and our guest continued to dine. As I ate in solitude I tried to wrap my mind around what has just transpired in the living room between Christa and our guest.

I had eaten way too fast but after cleaning my plate and putting it in the dishwasher I returned to the dining room with offers of dessert, a new french silk pie having been on my list earlier today.

"I can't eat another bite. That was absolutely delicious." Terry said, pushing back his plate.

"May I?" I said motioning to the place setting.

"Thank you." He said as I took up the plate.

"Ma'am?"

She nodded and I cleared her plate as well.

"I'm stuffed too." she said, looking you at me. "Why don't we save the pie for Julie's first night here."

"Yes ma'am." Damn it. That pie would have been perfect about right now. There is ALWAYS room for dessert!

I returned to the kitchen and set about the task of washing the dishes. These were Christa's special china and I wasn't about to trust the dishwasher with these or she would have my head on her plate.

I had begun washing the silverware when I looked down and realized I had forgotten for the first time today how I was dressed and made up with makeup and long fingernails. It was strange to feel so natural and so comfortable that I had forgotten so quickly. In a way, my servitude roll was pleasing and those mundane tasks weren't quite so bad due to their circumstance. Perhaps the pressures of work of always having to be in command of my projects had made the subservient roll in which I now found myself particularly appealing. Decisions were made for me and I didn't have to think about it. In a way it was disconcerting to have given up complete control so easily. The majority of that had to do with my trust of Christa I suppose. My introspection was interrupted when Terry and Christa emerged from the dining room.

"We're going out for the evening Stacy. Please straighten up and do the laundry in the hamper."

Christa grabbed her purse and closed the door behind them. The garage door opened and Christa's white Cadillac backed out, the door returning to it's closed position before they hit the street and pulled away.

The house had grown quiet again as I headed for the master bedroom and removed the laundry bag from the hamper and descended the steps to the basement, my heels clacking against the concrete, the echo surrounding me. I started the washer filling and began to unload its contents when a pair of jeans and unfamiliar boxers tumbled out and into the water. I grabbed the soaking items and pulled them up for a closer inspection. They definitely weren't mine nor Christa's obviously and knew that they had to be Terry's. Upon gaining a closer look and even though they were wet, I could clearly see the stain on the shorts. It could have been there for months, permanently set from earlier escapades but I knew that they had to be fresh from this afternoon. I ran my hand over the material wondering what it felt like to have my hand in there while Terry was still wearing them. I tossed them in the with the rest of the clothes and shut the lid, the agitation cycle and soap erasing any evidence. I was experiencing another stiffness in my groin and adjusted it into a more comfortable position before walking back across the basement savoring the sound. I carefully ascended the uncarpeted, wooden steps to the first floor and returned to my room. Walking into my bathroom I kicked on the lights and examined myself in the mirror. I added a touch of powder, straightened my hair a bit and after I was satisfied with my appearance I strolled out to the living room to watch some TV before hearing the washer chime it's completion. I repeated the process and moved the clothes to the dryer. I went back upstairs and did some dusting while the dryer worked at its own task. I managed to complete three rooms by the time the laundry was done. I gathered it up and headed for the master bedroom where I removed the items and set about folding them with unusual care. I put Christa's clothing back in her drawer, enthralled by the vast collection of silk undergarments and nylons. Finished with my admiration I picked up the jeans and boxers and took them to Terry's room where I hung the jeans in the closet and pulled open his top drawer to put the boxers away. When I did so, it was clear he had been in there for a second pair following this afternoons encounter and the box of condoms that I left in his bag was now tucked under his boxers in the dresser drawer, the end ripped open and several missing. I did a quick glance in the bathroom and found the trash still empty. He had either flushed the evidence or had taken them with him when they left.

I shrugged it off and returned to my room around 8 p.m. I spent the next few hours reading before the sound of the garage door drew my attention away from the pages. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. I was twenty minutes after eleven when they pulled in and I could hear them milling about in the kitchen. I set my book down, left my room and stopped in the kitchen where they were raiding the refrigerator and opening two beers.

"Can I fix either of you a plate?" I asked, offering to help.

"You're still up Stacy?"

"Yes ma'am."

"No. That's all right. We'll manage. You can relax and call it a night; we'll see you in the morning. Have a good night."

"Thank you ma'am." I said, the words becoming natural after only one day. With that I headed back to my room, shut the door, stripped out of my uniform and climbed into the shower, scrubbing the makeup off of my face. The hot water felt great and my face loosened up after the dry makeup was washed away. After twenty minutes I stepped from the shower and toweled off, adding some moisturizer to my face and body that Christa had picked up. I guess she knew how I'd feel after wearing it all day and gave her a few mental points for thinking of it.

Slipping into a fresh pair of panties and my nightie, I climbed into bed and switched off the light reflecting on today's experiences. I was still too wired to sleep though and found myself lying in the dark for thirty minutes when I heard the floor in the hallway creaking under the strain of a passerby. I could hear muffled voices and finally two doors shutting in the hall, everything growing quiet again.

Apparently the day was drawing to a close or so I thought when I heard the TV in the master bedroom kick on, the sounds filtering from down the wall. Different noises came and went while I presumed she was changing channels. Eventually, she settled on one and the sounds leveled out to what I could tell to be a running dialogue of some sort.

The sounds of the house settling were a familiar comfort. As the house cooled down, the heating ducts popped with the temperature change and the sounds of our queen-sized bed in the master bedroom creaked under Christa's weight as she pulled back the sheets and slid under the covers. I had thoughts of sneaking down the hall and knocking on the door but hesitated. We had agreed to try and make this work but not being with her at all today or dropping the act for even a few minutes was difficult.

But I would just have to make the best of it and try to uphold my end of the bargain. Stacy would do her best. I tossed back the covers and sat up, sliding my legs over the edge of the small, twin sized bed. I couldn't lie still any longer and just needed to stand for a minute to shake off the thoughts running through my head before getting back to bed and catching some sleep.

I took a few laps of the room and was ready to return to the bed when I heard a creak in the hallway. I froze, hoping to hear a gentle rapping of knuckles upon my door, wishing that Christa would feel a longing to see me even for a few minutes but nothing happened. The sound stopped and didn't return. Finally giving up I lay back down and was determined to fall asleep, finally feeling the sandman paying a visit.

I must have dozed off for a minute or two before snapping awake. In the dark room I looked at the clock and could see that nearly twenty minutes had actually passed. There was nothing to explain why I was awake. No lights and no sounds filled the room. A car passed by the front window and I wondered if the noise from the street had been the cause. That was one noise that never reached the back bedroom so I had chalked it up to that and had rolled over, trying to find a comfortable position on the unfamiliar mattress.

Then I heard one creaking sound followed immediately by a second. Perhaps Christa was having similar problems falling asleep. I held my breath and turned up my hearing, trying to catch anything out of the ordinary. Concentrating hard I could hear conversation and wondered if the commercials on TV in the master bedroom were growing in volume as they often did. I got up from the bed again and tiptoed to my door, listening carefully for movement. The sounds grew louder but convinced that nothing was coming from the hallway I opened my door slowly, preventing the unused hinges from creaking and giving away my presence. Keeping the lights off I dared a look to the hallway and found it deserted. The sounds grew louder and I could confirm they were coming from down the hall. I padded across the thick carpeting and made my way past the open doorway of the second guestroom. It was deserted tonight but Christa's friend Julie would be in there tomorrow. I continued to the end of the hall where the remaining two doors were located. To the right, the other guestroom, its door closed tight and lights off. On the left lay the master bedroom door; twinkling light trickled from beneath it.

The TV was indeed on as I suspected and I moved to within five feet of the bedroom, trying to hear more. I took another step and cursed under my breath as the floor creaked under my foot, the quirky seam in the floorboard giving away my presence. To me it sounded quite loud, but by comparison to the TV volume, Christa shouldn't have heard it. I approached closer this time, a mere foot from the door. I leaned in trying to hear beyond the portal but only a commercial could be heard. I raised my hand and was prepared to knock; feigning that I would ask her to turn it down to sleep but it wouldn't work. She would see right through the flimsy excuse so I hesitated, my hand hanging in mid air.

The bed creaked again and I thought I heard words that were mingled with the TV show that had returned. It wasn't hard to distinguish the South Park characters and I smiled, Christa having never been a fan of the show until she had met me. I smiled and was ready to turn around and return my bed when I heard another snippet of conversation, the voice deeper this time. It had to be Terry so my interest was piqued. Maybe he was a South Park fan too and with no television in his guestroom he was in there with her. In my heart though I suspected a different type of show was on in the room, especially after what had transpired this afternoon. I confirmed that the door was fully closed before placing my hands against it and leaned in close, pressing my ear against the hollow shell. From the other side I could barely make out the sounds over the TV which was probably intentional. But even over the cartoon I could make out an occasional word or two with a creak of the bed or and all too familiar moan interspersed between the short, animated sound bytes. Visions flashed through my head as my brain processed what little data it had at its disposal and again I could feel the familiar tightening in my groin, this time pushing easily against the flimsy material of my satin panties.

The minutes passed and the sounds of the TV were slowly being overwhelmed by the sounds emanating from another source in the room. It was clear now that Christa wasn't alone. Again I pondered what was going on in the master bedroom, somewhat confused by the thoughts rushing through me. There was an old flame of my wife's in our room sharing my bed with her. Not only was he in bed with my wife but it was also abundantly clear they had picked up where they had left off earlier in the day. Maybe picking up where they had left off while they were out.

I wanted to crack the door an inch and sneak a peek but knew that it made noise and the last thing I needed was for them to see me spying from the hall. My mind was whirling and I wanted to know more but I couldn't pull away from my perch. Convinced at last that I wouldn't learn anything more from the doorway I dropped to my knees and lay across the carpet.

Lying on my chest, I could feel the hard-on pressing against my body. I pushed myself as close to the door as I could, turning my head to the side, trying to peer through the narrow gap. The carpet was thick but the loosely fitted door provided some space beneath it. At first I could only make out the laundry hamper against the wall and the corner cabinet in the corner, the very bottom of the TV screen glowing. Along the back wall was the opening to the master bathroom and the dresser against the wall next to it. I could make out the bottom of the bed, its legs sticking up from the carpet. On the floor next to the bed laid a few articles of scattered clothing. From my poor vantagepoint I couldn't make out if they were Christa's or Terry's, probably a mixture of both.

Not visible from my view was the backside of the room but I seriously doubted that they were taking a tour of the walk-in closet or were examining the view from the bedroom window. Besides the scattered clothes, the comforter was tossed in a heap next to the hamper and the thin bed sheets trailed off the bed and onto the floor. Being on the floor the sounds were even clearer. It was apparent that Terry and Christa had picked up where they had left off but were less restrained in keeping their own volumes down.

From under the door I could hear the pair beginning to grow more vocal, Terry mixing an occasional low moan with words of encouragement for Christa.

"Oh yeah. Oh. . . . Oh. Yeah. Just like that. . . . Oh God, don't stop. Keep going. . . ."

I found getting more turned on when I heard the bed give a creak and the mattress beginning to move most of it invisible from under the doorway. I pressed my face even tighter to the crack trying to improve my view but it was no use.

Aware that my breathing had grown labored I gnawed at my bottom lip trying to keep it under control and nearly gasped when I saw a pair of legs swing over the edge of the bed and settle onto the carpet. I was toast if anyone came into the hall because the only place to run was back to my room and it was twenty feet away, no time to make it back to safety and be still be undetected. I was a second away from trying to flee when the large feet turned away from the door and back towards the bed. This was immediately followed by a smaller, more shapely set of legs swinging over the edge to face the first, the painted toes playing across the first pair, while their owner still clearly sat on the sheets. I pushed my forehead against the cool door and tried to look higher, but the only view I had was of Terry from the knees down and my wife, still sitting on the bed, her bare hips on the sheets and her long legs dangling in front of her, the four limbs intertwined.