The Housemaid Ch. 05

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The maid and butler prepare for their master.
1.3k words
4.45
20.5k
1

Part 5 of the 8 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 04/24/2012
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Mr. John Crawford was erect in his trousers. He had been for the last seven days, ever since his normally willing housemaid had stopped attending to him. He'd gone a month without masturbating before, and years between episodes of sexual congress. But he grown used to his noontime servicing this past year, and their encounter a week ago when she had licked his arse and bugged it with her fingers, and then swallowed all his come... He adjusted himself in his trousers. Even just the thought of that made blood fill his cock. After she had failed to appear at noon the day following, his cockstand that afternoon had made him snappish and impatient. After the second day of her non-appearance, he'd used his lunch hour to sit in his chair and masturbate to the memory of her fingers and mouth. His erection had flagged, but he was as unsatisfied as if he'd not touched himself at all. And the second he'd seen her dusting that afternoon, his cock had gone up again. That evening, he'd loosened the seams of his trousers round his groin, so that his erection was less apparent. He'd not touched himself again. Now a week later, he was at his wits end. Was she never going to suck him again? What had she meant about the young master? Was she just toying with him again, as she had said in his sitting room? Did he even care? Like the cat she was, she could chase him around, catch him, gut him on the front stoop, and leave him as a present for her master if she liked.

He'd summon her to his office on some pretext and beg. She'd liked it when he begged her to fuck him with her fingers. He'd do it again, beg her to service him. He didn't know if he could service her back if she demanded. He'd only ever seen a cunt in a brothel, but perhaps if it was hers, his housemaid, his Annabel, the woman whose mouth had worshiped his cock for a year, who forced him to let her suck him while Lord Eastmoor dined in the next room eating the fish course... John licked his lips. He could service her as well, if that's what she wanted from him. Just end his week-long celibate torment. He couldn't even quite fantasize about what she had meant about amusing the young master. Aside from his daydreams about his spunk mixing with that of Master Alexis in the housemaid's belly, he'd never really thought about the young master in any real way. John's desires were too unnatural, too perverted, to be associated with the young master. And John knew he'd never be able to keep his naked desire off his face if he thought about being fucked by Master Alexis's prick, or swallowing the young master's come himself. John swallowed the saliva that gathered in his mouth at these thoughts, and turned his desire resolutely back to Annabel. He'd summon her this evening before supper.

John watched Annabel saunter into his sitting room at 6 pm. She looked disheveled, but not from sex. She'd been beating the rugs on the back lawn all afternoon in the sun, so she was a bit dusty and she had large stains of sweat at her armpits. Her cap was off and her hair was partially falling down. She looked rumpled and stained. John thought she looked like a goddess.

"What was that you wanted to speak to me about then, Mr. Crawford?" Annabel raised one eyebrow in question, daring him to ask her for what he wanted.

He cleared his throat. "Might I request your attentions again, Annabel? It's been a sennight, and I find myself in dire need."

She smiled, but not in an encouraging way. "Whadja do before me then, Mr. Crawford? Perhaps you ought to reintroduce yourself to your right hand." Her voice was hoarse and derisive and John's prick jerked in response.

She didn't want polite requests. She wanted action. John fell to his knees before her. "Please Annabel. I long to feel your mouth on my prick. I cannot escape the memory of the last time we were in this room. Your tongue and your fingers in my arse. You touched something inside me, some secret place. I've never felt it before – I must have it again."

She stepped in close so that she crowded against him and grabbed him be the hair to force his neck back to look up at her. "Liked that did ya, sir? Liked me strumming you from the inside?" His big body was pliant on his knees before her and he looked up at her, his eyes large with pleading. He nodded, unable to say the words. She smiled at him slyly. "I cannot, Mr. Crawford. I cannot disobey Master Alexis. He punished me for last time."

She still held his hair in her grip so firmly that his chin pressed into her belly and his neck ached from the angle. His eyes glazed over a bit. "How did the young master punish you, Annabel?" He whispered, his voice thick with desire.

"Were you ever punished at school, Mr. Crawford?" Annabel asked softly, refusing to acknowledge his question.

"Yes," he answered readily. "And at home too. They both favored the cane."

"Did you deserve your punishments?"

"Yes," he answered again. "I was often idle as a youngster. And later, my father discovered my... desires, he tried to beat the devil out of me."

Annabel's grip tightened even further in his hair. "Did you enjoy the whippings?"

John gazed into her eyes, which were knowing. He whimpered. "Yes. I would get terrible cockstands from them. Further proof of my perversion." Tears pricked his eyes and he closed them against her penetrating gaze.

She let him stay there, eyes closed, her hand gripping his hair for a few moments. Then she shifted her weight back and drew his head back, so that his back bowed unnaturally and uncomfortably back. He kept his eyes closed, but he felt her lean her face close to his. "Open your eyes, John." He fluttered them open at the familiar address, and all he could see were her knowing hazel eyes. "If I suck your cock right now, John, we'll both be disobeying Master Alexis. And we'll have to submit ourselves to his punishment tonight after our duties are done."

She paused. He tried to suppress another whimper, but failed. "Do you want me to suck your cock, John?"

A breath he didn't know he'd been holding whooshed out. "Yes, Miss," he replied. She let go of his hair and he straightened his back, his scalp tingling. She helped him to stand, his knees wobbly from so long on the floor, and she helped him to sit back in his chair, before sinking to her knees between his legs.

She left him fully dressed this time, merely undoing the buttons and flap to his trousers and smalls. Her eyes were no longer sly and naughty, but knowing and wise. "The young master desires a gift from us. And we long to give it to him. There is no perversion there."

With that statement, she engulfed his cock into her wet mouth with no build up. He watched as she attacked him, her cheeks hollowing, her mouth sucking the life from him. The drought had made him sensitive, and it took only thirty seconds of her voracious mouth to have him groaning and spurting into her throat. He looked into her knowing eyes as she swallowed him down, licking him clean as usual, and putting him away.

"Meet me outside the young master's door at 10 o'clock tonight," she ordered. John nodded in fear and desire. She stood and left quietly.

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AnonymousAnonymousover 2 years ago

This is one of my favorite pieces on the site

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