Old Flames

I found myself in my hometown visiting with an old girlfriend, Chris, and Joan, a woman and mutual friend with whom I had a bit of a thing with while Chris was away in grad school. All years ago. We were having gin and tonics, and after a few minutes worth of rust got scraped away we were all comfortable. There was a fair amount of teasing mostly aimed at me. It appeared that my history with Joan was no longer being kept secret from Chris.

"I don't know anything about the past, and I deny everything," I said. "I could also use another drink."

"Oh, that's what you could use?" said Chris.

"What I could use is a maid," said Joan, changing the subject. "Every year, that's what I ask for. Eventually I may have to break down and settle for a husband. If I had a maid our drinks would be walking out the door as I speak."

"He'll be your maid," said Chris. "He'll bring the drinks."

"Yeah, I'll get the drinks. No problem." I rose to go to the kitchen.

"Whoa, there. Hold your horses," said Chris. (I grew up in the west.) "There's more to being a maid than fetching drinks. The outfit, for starters."

"Unfortunately, I didn't bring a maid's outfit...." I already saw my mistake. Joan taught theater.

"Just wait right here," said Joan. "Right here. I'll be back."

Chris started laughing. "I really hope she has a cute maid's outfit for you. You'd look good. You have nice legs and your butt still looks cute."

I couldn't really think of anything to say. "Cat got your tongue?" teased Chris.

*

Joan returned and said I'd find an appropriate outfit laid out on the bed for me. I tried to protest -- it won't fit, this is silly, etc. -- but gave it up. Here's to old times and new tricks.

On the bed lay a full French maid's dress. Okay. I wondered where to start. I stripped and grabbed a set of black stockings with an accompanying garter. I pulled the garter over my hips, then pointed the toes of my right foot and pulled the stocking over my foot being careful not to snag the material on my toenail. I pulled it up over my knee and stretched it to meet the garter. I was surprised at how far it stretched. I pulled on the other leg.

I ran my hand down my leg. This looked sexy and felt sexy. My cock lay plumply but not fully stiff across my thigh, across the garter belt straps and above the black lace of the stockings. I pulled the petticoat up and put the rest of the maid's outfit on. I was bare under the short-skirted petticoat. It barely cleared my rear.

I looked in the mirror. I looked silly -- not at all like a woman. But truth be told, I felt a bit like a woman, and strangely sexy. An image to remember later.

I went out to the porch.

Joan whistled at me and Chris smiled a sardonic smile. Chris circled her finger. I spun and curtsied. Joan called me closer. "Pick up my glass from the floor. What kind of maid are you?" I bent down to pick up her glass. As I did so, Chris slipped her hand under my skirt to give my balls a little squeeze. I jerked up and turned around.

"What?' asked Chris with mock innocence. I sputtered with real surprise.

Joan took the glass from my hands, setting it on an end table. "Cute as you may be in your uniform, you are an abysmal maid. You don't bring in drinks, you don't pick up the glasses, and you are wearing flats. C'mon here." She pulled me next to her as she sat on the couch. "Lie across my lap."

I lay face down, my lap across hers. When I looked forward I could see Chris staring into my eyes. Joan raised my skirt exposing my raised ass to the air, their eyes, and Joan's hand. She caressed my bare skin and then -- Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! It stung. It thrilled. It further stirred my cock and I was embarrassed and excited in almost equal measure. I'd never been so hard. Thwack!

I looked into Chris' eyes. I saw a cold smile, amusement, a hint of lust as my desire for her burst into flames. She laughed.

All I could do was wonder what would come next.