All the Way Home

It was a Thursday, so not quite as busy as a Friday would be, but still plenty busy since it was the 5:17 train. Everybody wanted to get out of town as soon as possible. I managed to bail out of the office a few minutes early, so I got a decent seat near the bar car. I was reading a paper that a previous rider had left in the seat, mostly just to kill time.

"Mind if I sit?" a feminine voice said.

I raised my eyes from the paper to gaze into one of the most beautiful faces I had ever seen.

"Not at all," I croaked, suavely. Idiot! "You certainly don't need my permission," I said regaining a modicum of composure.

"Sometimes people sit in cliques," she said. "I didn't want to assume that you weren't waiting for someone," she said, smoothing her gray, three-quarter-length, Toscana trim coat under her as she sat directly across from me.

"I was waiting for you," I said, uncharacteristically boldly. "And don't take this the wrong way, but you are one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen."

She stared at me for a moment before responding, probably trying to decide whether or not to change seats.

"I'm not sure how I could take that wrong," she answered. "It's sweet of you to say, but I think you just need to get out more."

"That's probably true," I said, smiling, "but I can count on one hand the number of women I've seen that are as jaw-droppingly beautiful as you are."

"I believe you're sincere," she said, "and so I will accept your compliment, even if I think it might be a bit over the top." She looked at me with that angelic face and said, "Thank you."

"Can I buy you a drink?" I asked, not being able to come up with any smooth lines on such short notice--and I desperately needed a drink.

"Sure. Cranberry vodka, please. Maybe two," she said with a look that somehow made me horny as hell--which wasn't actually a good thing since I had to get up to go get the drinks. It was an inopportune time to sprout wood. I hoped she wouldn't notice the obvious.

"You really do think I'm beautiful, don't you?" she asked, nodding toward the bulge in my pants.

She noticed, it realized. I probably turned three shades of red.

"I can't help it where you're concerned," I said, matter-of-factly. I figured I might as well own it.

"How does the saying go?" she said with a wry grin. "A hard man is good to find?"

I felt my face flush.

"Definitely two drinks for me," she said and patted my ass as I left.

When I returned, cocktails in hand, two other folks had sat in the adjacent seats, both women, thirtyish, who knew each other and were engaged in conversation. I handed her two cranberry vodkas and sat down with my gin and tonics. I got two also, so as not to be left behind.

"I'm Melissa Gilbert," she said, taking the drinks. "Obviously not THE Melissa Gilbert."

She was, of course, referring to the actress of "Little House on the Prairie" fame.

"Forgive my lack of manners," I said, sheepishly. "I'm Gil Lambert. I guess I really don't get out much after all. But for the record, you're much more strikingly beautiful than that actress."

"Gil, you're very good for my ego, but you should probably tone it down. I'd hate to see you get all worked up again."

"What do you do in the city?" I asked, desperate to change the subject.

"I'm a lawyer," she answered. "Real estate. Nothing glamorous."

"It's pretty glamorous compared to IT," I answered.

"There's nothing glamorous about real estate law, Gilbert. It makes accounting look exciting. But," she added, "it pays the bills."

"So, yeah, my parents thought it would be a hoot to name me after that actress," she continued, going back to our previous introduction. "I caught some flack for it here and there, but mostly, people just let it go." She was just so... real, I thought, but so incredibly beautiful. "You didn't correct me when I called you Gilbert. Is that your real name? Gilbert Lambert?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "That's why I go by Gil."

"The nickname rolls off the tongue a little easier," Melissa noted, "but I think you should embrace your full name. I think your name is a symbol of who you are. If you don't like your name, I think it's a reflection of the fact that maybe you don't like yourself."

"Are you a lawyer or a psychologist?" I asked.

"Double major," she answered, smiling sweetly.

"I'm in so much trouble," I said to myself, but loud enough for her to hear.

"You are," she agreed. "How do you feel about pasta? It's easy for my housekeeper to whip on on short notice."

"Um, I like pasta," I said not quite grasping what just happened.

"Yes, Gilbert, you're coming home with me for dinner. Unless you're married...?"

"I'm not married," I answered, but the situation was still too surreal to register in my brain. Did she just invite me to her home for dinner? If so, why? "You have a housekeeper?" I asked incredulously.

"I do," she answered. "I spend all day in the city. I don't have time to do the everyday things. Plus, my house is huge--perks of being in real estate. There's just no way I could keep it up on my own."

I thought about making some joke about keeping it up but didn't have the nerve. I watched as she unzipped her coat and pulled it open. The Toscana trim parted to reveal an expensive looking silk blouse and black skirt. There wasn't any cleavage or nipples in sight, much to my dismay. She pulled out her phone and sent a text to her housekeeper.

"She won't be upset about being kept late?" I asked when she had finished.

"Oh no," Melissa answered. "She lives with me. Part of her compensation package. She's a student at the university and needed a place to stay and flexible hours. Works out great for both of us. I have a clean house, laundry, and dinner waiting for me when I get home, and she has a place to stay, time for school and homework, and some extra cash to boot."

"Sounds like an ideal arrangement," I agreed.

"Angelika confirmed that she'll be ready for both of us for dinner. I hope you don't mind going all the way with me to the last stop."

"I would be happy to go all the way with you, Melissa," I said with an evil grin.

"I can take you back to your car, or wherever you need to be, in the morning."

"In the morning?" I asked, intrigued. She mentioned dinner, and now I was spending the night?

"You did say you were willing to go all the way, didn't you?" Melissa asked with eyebrows raised. God! She looked so sexy.

"I did," I answered.

"Well then, you're going to be tied up tonight and will have to get your car tomorrow."

I shrugged and considered my good fortune, first at having met such a beautiful woman, and then at having her invite me to her place for the night! My imagination was already starting to get carried away, making my pants bulge again.

"I can't wait to get you home," she said, slipping a beautiful foot out of her expensive Italian shoe and rubbing my crotch with it. The ladies next to us were so engaged in their conversation, they were paying no mind to us at all. It's a good thing because Melissa was bringing my general to attention, not so much because I had a foot fetish, I didn't, but because everything she did was sexy. The fact that her skirt had hiked up to reveal her panties may have been a contributing factor.

"I think you might be evil," I told her.

"I think you might be right," she answered. "I'm not usually like this. You seem to have brought out my inner bitch. Is that going to be a problem?"

I studied her beautiful face. I surmised that she was being truthful, that she found her own behavior uncharacteristic from the norm. Not knowing what the norm for her was, I couldn't speculate on whether this change was for the better or not.

"I'll let you know if it becomes a problem," I said. "I still want you."

"I know," she said, nudging my stiff penis with her foot.

We were interrupted by the ladies to my left who stood up to get off at the next stop. Melissa quickly moved her foot to allow them to pass. A knowing smirk crept across their faces as they noticed the tent in my pants and realized what had been going on.

"Come sit by me," Melissa ordered, indicating the now vacant seat next to her. I complied, though it was awkward since I was still sporting wood. Somehow that added an additional element of excitement to the situation. That was eclipsed the moment she reached over and grabbed my rigid member, giving it a firm grip.

"It's nice," she said, but I want to see it. Take it out."

"Here? Someone might see!" I protested.

"I guess you had better be discreet, then," she answered, not giving in.

So, as nonchalantly as I could, I unzipped my trousers and exposed my engorged penis. I felt completely naked as the cool air of the rail car whispered across it.

"It's very nice," she said, grasping it with her right hand. "Thick, too," she added, stroking it gently.

I was terrified that someone would see us, but excited at the same time. I couldn't believe this was happening. A drop of precum emerged from the tip of my penis. Melissa scooped it up with her finger and licked it off. I almost came right then, but as fate would have it, the train began slowing for the final stop.

"Better put that thing away, baby," she said sweetly. "This is where we get off--the train," she winked.

She held my hand as we exited the train and led me to her car, a shiny white Mercedes E53 coupe.

"Nice wheels," I remarked.

"Thanks," she said. "I like expensive things. Quality, fit and finish are important to me."

"I like expensive things too," I admitted. "I just can't afford them."

"Well, like I said earlier, I don't do what I do because it's particularly fulfilling. But it pays very well and is relatively low stress. Not like being a trial attorney would be."

She turned into a subdivision that must have been full of million-dollar, if not more, homes. Very nice homes. Huge homes. About three blocks in, she turned into the driveway of an elegant, full brick two story home with an elegant entryway and large arched windows that spanned two stories--at least those in what I assumed was the front room. The garage door before us opened--one of three. She pulled into the garage. A second car, a Buick, occupied the adjacent space.

"That's Angelika's car," Melissa explained as we got out. I don't like her leaving it in the driveway. It's a bad look.

I shrugged. It seemed rather inconsequential to me. As I reflected on it, though, I realized that in a neighborhood as high class as this one, it might be. Although, it was a late model Buick, not an old beater. Probably a bigger consideration was that it served as an indicator that the housekeeper was on the premises, if snooping neighbors were inclined to snoop. It did tell me that Melissa was very concerned about appearances.

Inside, the house was astounding. The evening sun streamed in through the multiple windows, spilling onto the dark hardwood floor, white-trimmed pale gray walls. The kitchen, where we entered from the garage, had a white island, white quartz counters and light gray cabinets. It looked amazing. It smelled amazing, too, like an Italian restaurant.

In front of the stove, stood who I presumed to be the housekeeper, Angelika, absorbed in her cooking, her back to us, wearing, I shit you not, a French maid outfit. It basically consisted of a French cut bodysuit with an apron that did nothing to cover her derrière. It was a pretty damned nice derrière, too, pale, full, and firm. She turned to greet us, and I realized that the bodysuit was sheer lace! I could pretty much see her tits plain as day. They appeared, at first glance, to be very nice, indeed! But her face! It was beautiful! It actually distracted my attention from her breasts! Blonde hair that fell in loose curls framed her angelic face. Her eyes were a vivid blue, almost too blue to be real. In all, she was as much of a beauty as Melissa, or nearly so.

"Gilbert, this is Angelika Dobrowska, my housekeeper," Melissa said. "Angelika, Mr. Gilbert Lambert." Angelika actually curtseyed! I couldn't help but notice the way her tits gently bounced with her movement.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lambert," she said with some sort of a slight accent I couldn't place. It wasn't French, though. Probably Eastern European. I couldn't tell if the red in her cheeks was from embarrassment or from the heat of the stove.

"Angelika wore her uniform for your benefit, Gilbert. She didn't want to, but I insisted." Melissa studied my face. "What do you think?"

"Angelika is very lovely. I'm surprised that you would want your housekeeper to be such a temptation." Any normal woman would have felt threatened to have a woman of such beauty competing with her.

"It's funny you should phrase it that way," Melissa said. "Do you find her tempting?" She fixed her beautiful, piercing gaze upon me. I didn't know what answer she was looking for, so I decided to just tell the truth.

"I think she is nearly as beautiful as you."

"You flatter me, Gilbert. Angelika is much more beautiful than I am. Her ass is perfect! Bend over and show Mr. Lambert your ass, Angelika." Angelika immediately complied, turning her ass in my direction, and using her hands to pull her ass cheeks apart exposing a large sapphire jewel adorning the end of what was obviously a butt plug.

"I'm not denying her beauty," I maintained. "But you still have the face that makes my dick hard."

"I can't argue with that," she admitted, remembering the incident on the train.

Take our coats, Angelika," Melissa ordered. Angelika did so. "Let's go have a drink while Angelika finishes making dinner."

I followed Melissa into the sitting room. A small dry bar stood against the wall.

"Gin and tonic, right?" she asked.

"That's right," I answered, wondering how she knew.

She walked over and handed me my drink. She had a vodka cranberry in her other hand.

"You're still wondering about Angelika, aren't you?" she said.

"I confess, I am," I answered.

"I like how you never lie to me," Melissa said. "I'd know if you did."

"Somehow, I believe you," I admitted.

"Angelika is an exchange student from Poland. That's why she's here. She's my slave by choice. Everything I told you is true. She is my housekeeper. She is also a student at the university. I sponsored her completely altruistically. Once I met her, though, things just happened. Kind of like they did with you and me. So, we're a package deal, she and I. If you want me, you get her, too. And, if it turns out you'd rather have her, you're still stuck with me. I should warn you, though, we are pretty perverted."

"How perverted?" I asked.

"Angelika! Bring me a glass!"

"Yes mistress," Angelika answered from the kitchen. Seconds later she scurried into the sitting room carrying a large drinking glass.

"Give me a drink," Melissa ordered.

Immediately, Angelika squatted down, pulled aside her uniform, exposing a lovely vagina covered with lush blonde pubic hair, and pissed into the glass, nearly filling it. She handed it to Melissa who promptly guzzled half the glass of piss.

"Want some? It's good!"

Well, I asked. This was my answer. These two were obviously very perverted. Rather than finding it offensive, I found it was an incredible turn on. So dirty. I took the glass and poured the remaining piss down my throat, barely tasting it, but tasting it enough to know that it was bitter.

"I was right about you," Melissa said, taking the glass and handing to Angelika. "This is going to be so much fun."

"Is dinner ready, Angelika?"

"Yes mistress," she answered.

"Serve us," Melissa ordered, then added, "naked."

"Yes mistress," Angelika answered obediently. Then she quickly discarded the skimpy uniform and stood in all her naked glory. She was phenomenal. Her figure was a classic hourglass shape, though her waist was not waspish in the least. Her breasts were full, round, and firm, with pink areolas and nicely defined nipples. Her stomach was flat, but soft and feminine. Her ass, probably her best feature besides her angelic face, but I'm biased in favor of asses, was firm, round and, if I was being honest, larger than I normally preferred. I had to admit though, it really added to the total package. I couldn't wait to bury my face between those cheeks.

Dinner, as it turned out, was fabulous. I was expecting ordinary spaghetti with marinara sauce. What I got was bucatini all'amatriciana--which was delicious. Just don't ask me to pronounce it. It was paired with a medium bodied, sweet Sauvignon Blanc. The meal was delightful, but was certainly enhanced by the beauty sitting across the table from me.

"Clean up can wait until tomorrow, Angelika. It's playtime now."

"Gilbert, we're going upstairs now. You're going to service Angelika and myself, lick our pussies and assholes. We're going to do things to you, fuck you in the ass, piss in your mouth. If you do a good job, you'll get to fuck one or both of us. Do you agree to these terms?"

Leave it to the lawyer to lay everything out contractually. I kind of knew that the evening was progressing this direction. It was not the way I would have envisioned it initially, but, given the outright beauty of both of these women, they weren't proposing anything I found objectionable, though, perhaps, not preferable. With the option of fucking Melissa or Angelika hanging in the balance, I wasn't about to object. Hell, I wanted to eat Angelika's ass so bad that I would have agreed to Melissa's terms even without the possibility of fucking them.

"I agree," I said. "You are in charge. You can have your way with me, as long as, at some point, I can have my way with you--both."

Melissa exchanged glances with Angelika. "We have a deal," she said.

Once upstairs, Melissa and I got naked. Melissa was beautiful without clothing, too. More petite than Angelika, she had smaller breasts and a smaller ass, but still perfectly proportioned for her size. It was still a tough call as to which of the two would win a beauty contest. I hoped I wouldn't have to choose one over the other.

"Tie him up," Melissa directed Angelika. There were already Velcro wrist and ankle bands anchored to the bed frame. I allowed myself to be thus encumbered, per our earlier deal. I have to admit, as they fastened the straps to my arms so that I was spread eagle and helpless, I felt a small wave of panic. I was completely vulnerable. My cock and balls, and asshole were exposed for whatever deviant activities they had planned.

"Give me your plug," Melissa ordered Angelika.

Angelika pulled the plug out of her ass and handed it to Melissa who then made a show of putting it her mouth and sucking it off. Melissa grabbed a handful of lube and slathered it around, and in, my asshole. Then she pressed the plug into my ass. I have to say, it felt good, if a little weird.

"Why don't you fuck him with that gorgeous ass of yours and I'll make him eat mine," Melissa suggested.

Angelika readily agreed. She applied a healthy handful of lube to her own asshole before straddling me and lowering her ass onto my rigid member. Holy cow! Was her ass tight! I could scarcely grip my cock that hard with my own hand! Nonetheless, because of the lube, and the fact that she'd had the plug up her ass all evening, my cock went in easily. She moaned as she lowered herself until I was all the way in, balls deep. Though my cock was of average length, its girth was a bit above average, so I know she was feeling it. Slowly she began riding the length of my cock with her ass. My only regret was that I couldn't watch. Melissa had already straddled my head, facing Angelika, with her ass pressed in my face. What else could I do? I licked her tasty asshole like it was dessert, doing my best to press it as far up her ass as I could go.