My Russell Hustle Pt. 06

Note: I'm sorry this final chapter of the series took so long to create.

Rene yelled after me, "Come back here, Jessica, now. You need to explain .... "

"In a bit," I replied as I continued to my bedroom to change.

She followed, and as I eased out of the maid outfit, she told me to explain why the mortgage seemed to be in her name only.

I didn't reply, but went to the closet, extracted my favorite pencil skirt, put it on over my nylons, and found my nice fitted white shirt to put on over my boobs. I felt quite together.

"Tell me," she demanded. I wondered if she would go so far as to try to punish me with her whip.

"Rene, dear ... " I replied, leaving out the "mistress" part, "Things are about to change here. For starters, you are totally responsible for paying the mortgage."

Up to this point I had only seen two sides of Rene: the sweet and innocent ingenue, followed by the calculating, demanding and self-centered mistress. Now as I looked at her face and heard her voice, I was observing a third Rene: a combination of worry and anger. Like I'd thrown her off balance, and she didn't like that feeling at all.

"Huh? You've got to be kidding, Jessica. You deceived me. You think you can push me around somehow, gain control?"

"Dear, I know all about you. I know all about your past, how you paid someone off, your relationships, your occupation, your money."

For once, she had nothing to say. So I continued. "Sure, you could just walk away from the mortgage. Then we could both leave and go our separate ways. But -- think about this -- it would be a really black mark on your credit rating, which I don't think you want. Also, if you decide to expose my sexuality to the real estate world, I would reciprocate and ruin your reputation. And in the wine world, reputation is everything, right?"

She continued looking blankly and angrily at me. Her face was screwed up a bit; a new look for her.

And then ... and then ... she began laughing uproariously. "Oh, god, Jessica, you really nailed me, didn't you!"

I began laughing too. "Ya think so?"

"So, what's the deal now, Jessica? Am I supposed to be your maid?"

It had occurred to me. I kept laughing. Our laughter kept feeding on each other until we were bent over in convulsions.

When we recovered from that, we looked at each other, now as equals. We hugged each other tightly and kissed sexily. My god, that felt good.

We went into her bedroom and entwined our bodies. I put my thigh between hers and she rubbed against it. "Eat me, Rene," I whispered heavily.

She thought about that. "I will if you do me next time."

"OK."

She unzipped my tight skirt in back and managed to pull it off, and then pushed my panties aside to view my wet, happy-puppy-dick. There was just a moment of hesitation as she pulled my shaft into her lips and mouth.

"I'll bite this off unless you go back to being my slave. Gotcha!"

"Don't fool around like this, Rene. Give me the orgasm I've never had since you gobsmacked me with that blackmail."

"Oh, OK, Jesus. Giving my maid a blowjob; who ever heard of such a thing?"

With that, she proceeded to blow me to smithereens. I came long and loud.

This new Rene, I could live with. Two crossdressing broads living the life of women with rewards.

We hired maids. Now, when she wanted some new clothing, SHE bought it.

Sure, we'd kind of transitioned to a gay relationship. Or rather, we'd transitioned to a lesbian relationship -- because we were always in a female mode when at home, except when we had to dress for work, or were doing work outside. When we had sex, in our minds we were women, and it seemed perfectly natural -- and very exciting.

We hid our female sides from our neighbors, who didn't live cheek to jowl next to us. The only neighbors we invited over were a male gay couple.

We did go out as women from time to time, and passed easily but were very careful about not being showy or ostentatious. We simply didn't push our luck.

One evening, Rene and I -- now sharing the master bedroom -- dressed en femme to go out for dinner at a fabulous restaurant an hour's drive away. As I drove, Rene's hand slid up my thigh and began to play with my dick under layers of clothing and lingerie.

"Oh, dear," I said, "you sure know how to get a girl excited. At this rate we may never reach the restaurant. I'll have to pull into a Best Western and get us a room."

"But that would mean I wouldn't get to check out the restaurant's wine list." She stopped caressing, and just let her hand lay on my subdued bulge.

"I have something to ask of you," I said. "It will surprise you."

"Well, what?"

"I suppose it's been my little secret for a while. OK, in my business dealings and so on, I am a take-charge kind of guy, and I can usually manipulate people into signing off on business deals. However ....."

"However .....?"

"I found a new part of myself when I was your slave and maid. Although at first I really resented being the sub -- eventually some aspects of it really turned me on."

Rene laughed. "Yeah, I noticed that. I really did. But you were subtle about it."

"Yes."

"Don't tell me you want to go back to our old relationship? I'm not even sure I want to go back to that. It was actually work to play my role, too, you know."

"I suppose so. But here's what I'm thinking: I will not ever try to lead you, to dominate you. I want to be the submissive wife in this relationship. You could be the -- well, not a butch, you're not that certainly -- but I want to cede to you a good deal of the decisionmaking. But where I really want you to run things is in the bedroom."

"Well, I would love that, Jessica. You want me to go back to some bondage and sm?"

"I liked that a little. But no red marks and intense pain ..... Hmmm. Where we need to depart from our past sex is ..... I need to get an orgasm just like you."

"Oh, now that I know where you're coming from -- never!" laughed Rene. "Well .... we can work something out, dear."

Now it was my turn to put my hand over her gurl clit, under her garments.

We parked in the darkness, grabbed our purses, locked my Mercedes, and walked confidently in heels to our seafood restaurant alongside a broad river. Sailboats in a nearby marina gently rocked back and forth under the touch of a breeze and small waves.

Our makeup was absolutely perfect -- and understated. Rene was wearing a womanly tailored business suit with just enough bra size underneath to make a dent in it, and her dark brown hair was in a short, sliced bob. Her fingernails and lips were a matching subtle red. Her trim skirt went just below her knees. She was smiling.

I wore a feminine puckered slim sheath dress with short sleeves and scoop neckline in a sage color. There was a suggestive little drawstring at the neckline. My boobs showed more prominently than hers. Long blonde hair cascaded down past my shoulders, and I wore a naturally tinted pantyhose. My lipstick was a frosty type that went so well with the dress.

I knew how we came across -- as a lesbian couple. Yes.

The maître d' gave us a once over, smiled, and led us to a table in the center of the restaurant. Rene graciously, in her most feminine voice, insisted on a table with a river view. Which we received.

As we walked alongside tables of couples, families and the occasional single, I felt so high and confident. Fuck it! We were two sexy broads out enjoying our lives to the hilt. And we didn't give a damn if anyone saw through us or not. We felt thoroughly female and desirable, and this was now our life together.

Rene, naturally, did the ordering and wine selection (after my input), and I picked the dessert.

As we waited for our orders, we played our roles to max, with all the feminine movements, affectations and smiles we could muster. We kept our voices low. Our waiter, I think, did notice something about our somewhat-deeper voices, but she was very pleasant and helpful.

We proceeded to get somewhat inebriated as we emptied our bottle of viognier while eating, struggling a little to keep our female performances intact. I kept looking at Rene's lips and wanted to passionately kiss her right then and there.

"Jessica, are you drifting a bit?"

"Well, yeah. Catch me if I begin to look ridiculous."

She kicked me under the table. "There, honey."

On the way home (I did manage to walk out of the restaurant without swaying too much), I had Rene drive and I fell asleep with my head on her shoulder.

And that's the end of our story -- our chess game ending in a lovely draw.