New Life Surprise

She reasoned that she started her new life in the Borehamwood flat on Monday and if she had treated Suzi's hospitality as a wild break or a crazy holiday, then she could have an out-of-this-world experience before she settled down. Could she perform an undertaking this outrageous? To volunteer as a maid would be foolish, dumb and witless; those girls had experience in hypersexualised settings, surrounded by aroused and desperate men, but she would never be in a better position to expose herself to an unrestrained orgy of debauchery.

Minutes later, she entered the primary suite of the house, calling out to Suzi. "Have you got that spare maid costume?" she asked. Her heart pounded as her friend called out to her.

"Pardon?"

"The black and white outfit? Where is it?" She gulped. "I want to be a maid."

Suzi spoke from her dressing room, holding her hair curler in her left hand. "You know the maids wait on the couples and then have sex with them." Aimee nodded; her friend's words stuck in her psyche. "And our guests are very horny."

"Yeah, I understand."

"We have over forty men who come to our soiree and ..."

"Please," Aimee squealed. "I will never have an opportunity to do this again. I just want to try it."

Suzi grinned. "You were jillin' in the shower? You have that warm glow to your face!" Aimee gulped. "OK, it's in the bottom drawer in your room," she interrupted. "I knew you'd want to do it the moment you asked not to stay in a hotel. But you've got forty-five minutes until Marv's briefing. Late maids get caned. Hard. But go in with your eyes open. This will be an intense, and sore, evening."

"Oh," Aimee squealed.

"Still think you want in? And shave your pits and your fanny!" Suzi remarked, peering at her friend. "And your legs. You don't want any hair!"

Aimee nodded and hurried to her room. She took the outfit from her chest of drawers and depilated her body thoroughly. She applied gentle touches of makeup and brushed her hair, before dressing in the maid's attire. The final touch was a simple pair of black high-heels in her size. Suzi had thought of everything.

If the four maids appeared slutty, the lady of the house oozed class. Her gift from Marv, the French designer lingerie, accentuated her curves and her assets. The lacy bra with the sheer panels through the ornate design showcased her breasts. The open crotch thong hid nothing when she parted her thighs, but as she walked, the underwear just hinted at the treasures within. Her look finished by the black garter belt with its intricate styling, and her legs encased in black stockings.

Marv addressed his workforce, dressed in a designer tuxedo; he looked almost distinguished as he talked to the assembled employees. "OK girls, same deal as before. You get a monkey for waitressing. Circulate, bring drinks, share the snacks, refill glasses. You know the drill. Flirt, smile and have the odd shot yourself. We expect some extras and that's a two and half grand bonus for doing the works. Mike and James are the caterers in the kitchen. Ellis is our barman. No sex with them until the soiree's over and then the first to blow them gets another couple o' hundred each. Women in lingerie are sluts. Ladies in dresses will join in when they're ready. Everyone will touch and grope and undress you. Soiree's in the basement and ground floor. No means no and any problems see me or Ellis or Trent and we'll handle it. Condoms in every room if we need them. Questions?"

"What rooms again?"

"Kitchen, Dining Room, Sitting Room, Drawing Room, terrace, and in the basement, the bar, pool terrace and cinema room. Anyone wanting to change can do so in the gym. Next month, I'll get a marquee in as it'll be getting colder. Any more?"

"Are we doing the endgame?"

"Yeah. Although no condoms are needed for that. I'll pick a couple of girls, Crystal."

"Are we finishing at eleven, Marv?" The blonde maid asked.

"Yeah, Crystal. About that. Although last month, we stayed a bit later!"

The girls chuckled. "First guests due in ten."

Crystal gestured towards Aimee. "You said you weren't a maid." Her eyes narrowed a little. "What club are you from?"

"I'm not."

"What company then?"

"I'm Suzi's friend," she replied. "I ... I volunteered."

"Girl, t'ose guys are gonna want ta fuck ya!" Crystal said. She studied the homeless companion of the hostess, looking her up and down. "Nice titties. They'll get groped."

"She's fresh meat, ain't she? I bet she gets chosen for the endgame." The diminutive red-haired maid replied in a common London drawl. Her snarling voice didn't match the smirk on her face as she spoke, looking up at Aimee.

"True, Sophia. I could really use that grand right now. How old are ya?"

"Thirty-one."

"Fuck. She's ten years older than us!" Aimee shrugged. "Some o' the guys like the wrinkly slappers."

"Hey! I'm not that old," she squealed in indignation.

Her heart pounded and her hands shook as the first couple arrived. Crystal took their coats and stored them in Marv's study on the ground floor, and brought them a glass of champagne each.

Ellis passed Aimee a large slug of vodka. "You look like you need it," he said, watching her trembling hands and stumbling walk in the heeled shoes.

She had never been so exposed to so many people; the cool breeze from the late summer evening swirled around her bare legs and uncovered flesh. For every woman who arrived at Marv's place, there were five or six men. Some came alone, others entered the house in pairs.

One stranger patted her open buttocks as she passed them drinks from a tray and she froze as the fingers slid underneath her mesh flap, rubbing her bare flesh. "Cracking butt. Nice rack too. Marv's outdone himself with the girls tonight." He said, objectifying the maids.

"There's always top totty at Marv's events." Aimee's eyes glared at the suited businessman, longing to respond to his sexualised misogyny, but resisted, smiling sweetly. She wasn't prepared to embarrass her friend, and the chauvinist's words stroked her ego. She'd never been "top totty" before, or had strangers say she had a "nice rack."

Eric made a similar comment. "Sorry 'bout the house, dear, but this looks lots more fun. And your baps and buns in that getup make me want to knock another hundred off."

Aimee smiled at the estate agent. "Really?" She asked coyly, passing him a beer from her tray.

"Oh yeah! If you'd been negotiating with me, I'd have given a better price. Everyone's fucked Suzi. She's a damn good screw, but you're new, and you're clearly top tier pussy."

The maid blushed.

But she found herself at ease, floating through the rooms, taking drink and food orders, and returning with them on her tray. Most of the men were over 45, and few resisted the chance to touch the big-breasted, dark-haired waitress.

"I'll have a double vodka with orange and cranberry juice and a flash of those tits on the side!"

"I'll have a Bud with a dash of lime and a squeeze of that ass!"

"I'll do a glass of fizz. And a kiss on those lips."

Few orders came without sexual innuendo or requests, and Aimee fulfilled them all. The other maids did not hesitate, and the alcohol-fuelled, bawdy atmosphere became raunchier and more brazen. The sly shots of vodka from the barman settled her nerves, and the sight of her fellow waitresses appreciating and enjoying the same treatment helped her cope.

Many of the men discussed business, too. She overheard the CEO of a local printing firm close deals for the town's only five-star eatery to produce their marketing material and the president of the golf club secured competitive tenders from a food catering company to supply the renowned eighteen-hole course. They talked trade while they drank, ogled and groped.

"Aimee," Suzi called; the lingerie-clad host, sprawled on a sofa, with her legs on a smart, suited man in his early twenties. "I'll have a glass of fizz, and Ethan wants a whisky on the rocks."

"Which one?" The maid asked and recalled the list of drinks at the bar. "Laphroaig 18, Auchroisk 14, Royal Brackla 16 or Macduff 12?"

The young man shrugged. "One of each!" Suzi cried.

Aimee returned, and as she put the five glasses on the table in front of her friend and guest, a pair of fingers from behind her untied her bra straps, sending the flimsy fabric loose.

Ethan's eyes widened as she displayed her bare bosom. "Nice one, Topsy! Get t'ose baps out, love!" She squealed, but Crystal was already topless, and another maid had her top unclipped as unceremoniously as Aimee.

"This is Ethan. His dad usually comes, but he's in Poland, securing a deal for his haulage firm. Ethan's joined the company and needs a personal assistant, who has good organisational skills, experience on SAP Crystal Reports and has some background in S Q L."

"It's pronounced sequel," Aimee replied, as her friend untangled herself from Ethan's lap.

"Go have a seat. Give me your tray. These guys are groping the maids and they are avoiding me, and I won't have it. You have five minutes to discuss business while I get myself fingered!" She passed the glass of champagne to Aimee as she rose from the chair. "Be gentle with him. He's only 21!"

Ethan looked like a typical boyband member, with his unruly brown hair swept across his forehead and an innocent gaze to his eyes. He focused on the topless Aimee, trying not to stare at her breasts as she seated herself beside him. "Well ... er ... ummmm ..." He stammered, and she passed him the first glass of whisky.

"Auchroisk 14. Alphabetical order," she said. A shriek pierced the noisy chatter in the room as Crystal sat on a vulgar chauvinist, old enough to be her grandfather, and placed both his hands on her bare breasts.

Aimee looked Ethan in the eye, and ran her hands over his oversized shirt, sliding underneath his black tie, to scratch his belly gently. He gulped his drink, sinking the double measure as she flirted with him. "It's ... err ... the family firm is haulage and I've been to Uni and ... err ... well, I'm looking at the reporting and observability and ..."

Her fingers glided over his chest as she listened intently, flicking downwards to his crotch without missing a single syllable of his snatched explanation. "And that's SAP?"

"Yeah. We have some reports but there's a lot more I want to do, but I've reached the limit of my knowledge and ..." He gulped as her palm skated over his erect cock in his smart, black trousers. "... oh, that's ..."

"Nice and big!" Aimee whispered, and passed him a glass of the Laphroaig. "But I have plenty of experience with SAP reporting and SQL. I'll ask Suzi to send you my CV?" He gulped, and nodded, as her fingers loosened his belt and her hand slid between his trousers and his boxer shorts. She stroked his cock through the cotton underwear as she spoke. "I was employed for ten years to build and run the reports you want. I'm here having fun with my friend, but I am looking for work. And as you can see, I have a few transferrable skills."

He closed his eyes as Aimee fondled his prick. "What about your oral ... I mean telephone ... manner? Oh my God!" He cried, jumping from the sofa and running from the lounge as a creamy wet spot emerged on his underwear. Suzi smiled at the sudden reaction of the youngest guest, and when he returned to the room, she had resumed her waitressing duties.

Aimee flitted between the rooms, and she saw Ingrid and Suzi in conversation. "Drinks, ladies?" she asked, a little surprised at the sight of the foodbank volunteer.

"Oh, just a tap water for me."

"She means a glass of champagne."

"You know I don't drink too much. And certainly not without my Dave. I can't believe you are talking me into this!" Ingrid moaned.

"Now, I have put an outfit downstairs, in the gymnasium, and I expect to see you up here in it by the time Aimee returns with our drinks. Or I'll spank you and let all the men use you in the arse!"

"Oh, it was different with me and Dave. We played together. This feels..."

"C'mon," Suzi called, guiding the reticent woman to the lounge door. "You'll get a lot more donations for your foodbank if you take my advice!"

"You'll give me palpitations!" Ingrid moaned. They entered the kitchen, descended to the basement, and walked around the swimming pool. In the gymnasium's corner, on the rowing machine, Suzi had left a small bag, and she passed it to the blonde widow, dressed in a conservative black dress.

The host didn't hesitate. She gripped the zip at the back of the garment, sliding it to her waist; her hands slid between Ingrid's shoulders, easing the dinner party attire away from her body. Ingrid purred. "I know," Suzi whispered, breathing into the widow's ear. "You've missed the human touch, right?"

She nodded, grunting as her fellow volunteer unfastened her plain bra. Suzi's fingers closed over Ingrid's big bust, rubbing each nipple as she held the 50-year-old woman to her chest, nibbling on her ear.

"You need plenty of this, right?"

Ingrid sniffed. "It was so easy when Dave was still here."

"I know," Suzi muttered. "We all do. But you're too sexy to be shut up in that house. So you're going to play, aren't you?"

"I ..." The dominant woman squeezed the nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, causing Ingrid to whimper. "Oh, yeah."

"Like old times. Because I realised that I've never got to go down on you at our parties. I feel I should have tasted you by now. And there's enough dick upstairs to give you a damn good fucking!" Suzi's left hand slid over the older woman's smooth skin and dipped into her plain white briefs. "Shaved, like I said."

"Dave always liked it hairless. And ... ahhhh!" Suzi's finger rolled over Ingrid's clit as she pulled the widow into her, rubbing her guest's button as her right hand toyed with the pair of exposed nipples.

"You're going to dress in what I want, aren't you?" She whispered. "And you will be a proper slut and enjoy yourself. Just like you did when Dave was here. I saw you by the pool take three cocks, one after the other, as Dave watched, with that Russian bird between his legs. They spit-roasted you, and you orgasmed on another man's dick!"

"I know," Ingrid muttered. "But that was ages ago and ... ahhhh!"

Suzi's fingers pressed against Ingrid's nub, rolling her finger over the sodden clit; the widow's legs weakened, as Suzi rubbed her, frantically increasing her pace on the desperate wetness of her friend. "It was recently enough."

Ingrid panted, groaning as pleasure radiated from her cunt. She gasped as a sudden shockwave detonated and she squirmed as Suzi played with her sensitive clit. Desperate, carnal desires flowed from her; she had missed this. She sighed. "That's nice. Oh, that's ..."

Suzi whispered. "Later. Now get dressed." She put her wet finger between her lips, smirking at her friend, drowning in her wanton lust. She sucked Ingrid's juices. "Sweet, delicious. Be better from the source."

"Huh!" Ingrid gasped. "That's mean."

"You'll get fucked tonight." She pulled the bra from the bag and helped the quinquagenarian into the half-cup, opaque lingerie. Bright red, with shiny black trim, the underwear showed and amplified her cleavage.

The front-fastening garter belt was in the same colour scheme and she sat on the rowing machine to roll the opaque stockings to her thighs, that clipped onto the eight clips, attached to the lingerie.

"Where's the briefs?"

"There aren't any!" Suzi replied, as she put on a bright red crystal-adorned choker with a large scarlet heart that nestled above Ingrid's cleavage. "You don't need them!"

"I do. Everyone will see my ... you know what?"

"I want them to! It's a very tidy pussy." She pointed to the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the gymnasium wall. "Look at yourself."

Ingrid took a few steps to stare at her reflection. She looked almost unrecognisable. Gone were her granny knickers and her conservative dinner party dress, and in its place was a scandalous scarlet and black ensemble designed to provoke arousal and lust. "Dave would have loved to see me in this," she muttered, with her voice tinged with regret.

"He saw you in a lot, doing a lot more, many times at our soirees." Suzi's fingers closed over Ingrid's exposed lower back. "But you look amazing, so learn to enjoy yourself. Stop punishing yourself for your husband's cancer. Now, let's get a drink and have some fun."

Ingrid nodded and tentatively put the red heels on and climbed the stairs to the ground floor.

The comments came the moment they entered the kitchen.

"Fuck me, Ingrid. You look the fucking bomb!"

"Holy cow! Have you seen that?"

"Hey sexy! Can I get a kiss!"

Men hurled words of lustful encouragement at the familiar widow as she walked through the room to a seat in the lounge and she gleefully downed a shot of spirit before taking the champagne.

Ingrid felt Suzi move beside her. Their lips touched, and she tasted the sweetness of the lemonade on Suzi's kiss from her vodka-based drink. She groaned as the lingerie-clad host knelt over her, resting her butt on Ingrid's knees as her tongue explored Ingrid's mouth. Ingrid's hands instinctively rubbed Suzi's bare back as the two blonde women snogged on the sofa in the same room as twenty other people.

They were not the only pair. The red-haired maid was on her knees, gently teasing a businessman's prick with her mouth and the wife of a millionaire was underneath his supplier as he sought to negotiate a one-per cent discount on his company's order.

But the two women, engaged in sapphic snogging, gathered much of the attention. Their breasts rubbed together as Suzi passionately kissed her friend, their tongues intertwined. Her fingers slid over the red lingerie and she touched Ingrid's uncovered slit.

"You're so wet!" Suzi whispered, giggling, as she broke the kiss and placed her lips on Ingrid's neck. Ingrid moaned as Suzi rubbed in circles around Ingrid's tiny nub.

"That feels so ..."

"Hot," Suzi whispered as she pressed her body against the conflicted widow. "But I know you need this."

She backed away from her friend, knelt in front of her, and pulled her legs apart, exposing her slit to the room. The surrounding men had grown bolder through lust and alcohol. They whistled and showed their appreciation at the lesbian show, adding to Ingrid's arousal.

A man she neither knew nor recognised sat beside Ingrid and ran his fingers over her breasts, encased in her bra. He looked for approval from her, and she smiled at the brazen, tipsy businessman, leaning into his touch. He slipped her bosom from the cup and bent his head, eager to take her nipple between his lips.

Suzi blew gently on Ingrid's cunt, nibbling on the milky thighs as her fingers danced along the soft, puffy petals of the widow's cunt. No resistance. No reticence. Just pure lust, as Ingrid pushed her bum forward in the seat, sliding herself towards the host.

Suzi's tongue skidded over the wet slit, swirling around Ingrid's clit, as the elder woman closed her eyes, revelling in the sensations consuming her body. She groaned at the amplifying arousal, subconsciously parting her legs to give her friend greater access.

Delicious sweet muskiness excited Suzi's tastebuds. Her hands lined up against Ingrid's sopping hole and she slid it forwards, twisting as she inserted two fingers into the half-naked slut. Ingrid panted, squealing, as Suzi curled her hand to massage the ridged G-Spot in the groaning lady.

It was more touch than she was used to: an unknown man sucking on her right nipple; another playing with her left breast. Her friend on her knees, flicking her clit with their tongue, while massaging her G-Spot. As two dozen people watched her.

Her body swam in lust; her arousal soared as she neared her orgasm, squealing with every touch. "Look, this slut's about to come."