The Rich Bitch and the Hired Help

I'll spare you the sob story of how I got here, but suffice it to say that this wasn't the high point in my life. My family used to live in a neighborhood like this. Fenced community, had to have your name on the list with the porter, perfectly manicured lawns that the owners have never once cared for nor used. I get the type. And frankly, I used to be this type. And now? Now I'm the one man wait staff for someone's fucking dinner party. The temp agency told me that Mrs... what was it? Glassgow I think. Mrs. Glassgow's normal waiter tested positive for covid last week and they needed someone. It told me a lot that the chef wouldn't walk food 100 feet from the kitchen to the dinning hall.

Anyways here I was at this house,.... no mansion. I couldn't find a doorbell, so I knocked, but no one seemed to be home. I glanced at my watch. Yeah I'm a little early, but the temp agency told me that this client was..... particular. And told me to be prompt. I poked my head around the side of the house and found a side door that connected near the garage. I let myself in and started searching for the kitchen. What I found..... was Mrs Glassgow. She was in the kitchen, looking over the spread of food prepared by the now gone chef. She scrupulously dipped a finger into each dish to check, or nibbled each little hors d'ouvre. I caught myself at the doorway, and didn't fully enter. I was shocked. Mrs. Glassgow wasn't quite what I expected. I assumed old money also meant old and worn women, but Mrs. Glassgow was young, and radiant, and.... sexy as fuck! She had on a dinner gown, long and crimson, with a deep V at her neck and long slits up the sides of her legs. Her perfectly manicured hair, makeup, and nails probably cost my last years income. She also seemed to be no stranger to the surgeon's knife. She had two perfectly formed tits that barely hid under her perfectly contoured neckline.

Before I could brace myself to round the corner and face her scorn, she did the craziest thing. After her thorough inspection of the food, she checked the clock on the wall and leaned against the counter to scroll through her phone. After just seconds, she seemed to find something that she liked. And I mean..... she must have really liked it. Her hand traced up one of the slits in her dress until she pulled it to the side revealing a matching crimson high waisted thong. Her manicured hand started to touch herself over the top of her fabric.

"Just the type." I thought. Spoiled rich, bitchy, and amazingly unfulfilled. But now I seemed to be stuck, I couldn't round the corner, nor could I leave as the door behind me would alert her to my presence. And just as I was trying to plot my escape back to the front door, my hip bumped into some piece of decor, knocking it to the ground. I froze, and so did Mrs. Glassgow. She huffed through the kitchen and rounded the corner to find me picking up and replacing the hallway decorations.

"How long have you been there?" She asked. Infuriated, but slightly guilty.

"Hi, sorry, I tried knocking at the door, but there was no answer, I found my way in through the garage." I stammered. She was even more beautiful up close, and very very angry.

"You didn't answer my question. I assume you're the waiter. Why are you early?" She snapped.

"The temp agency told me that..... the client was particular."

"Huh. Well they weren't wrong, and they've sent me bad waiters in the past. I hope you're better than them. In fact, get in here and pour me some champagne. Let me see if anyone can do this correctly."

I stumbled into the kitchen, nervous at the eyes that followed me. I have to admit that I was shaken. I opened the refrigerated wine cabinet, grabbed a bottle of champagne and a wine flute. I wasn't worried, I had done this hundreds of times, but maybe the nerves.... or the excitement had me opening the bottle a little too quickly. The cork popped off and a bit of champagne spouted out the top, and before I could swing the bottle over the sink... I realized that I had spilled it right onto Mrs. Glassgow, who was waiting with a glass in hand. Her cheeks flushed red with anger and I could tell that she was about to lay into me.

"I'm sooooo sorry." I stammered grabbing a towel and rushing to her, I started to dab the champagne from off her arms and went to dry off the spot on her chest when we both stopped. We froze knowing that it spilled perfectly onto her chest.

"Oh was that your plan, huh? Get some on my tits so that you could feel me up?! GAWD!! Why can't I get anyone competent around here?" I just froze while she started into what looked like was the start of a diatribe. But surprisingly, she came over to me and grabbed my head by the sides and shoved my face into her perfect, sparkle hinted chest. My lips found the taste of champagne, but also the wonderful flavor of her immaculate skin. "Is that what you wanted all along?!" She asked, smothering my face into her tits. And before I could even object, she released my head to grab both sides of her dress and peel them back to reveal her perfect breasts. Her perky nipples told me that maybe they had been aching to be touched longer than just today. She grabbed the bottle of wine and started pouring down her right breast while clutching the back of my head to it. "I'm going to have to shower again, and since this dress is certainly ruined, I might as well give you what you wanted!" So I sucked, and slurped and licked every bit of champagne off her breast that I could, only barely hiding my attempts to get her perfectly formed nipple into my mouth. She gasped in response, and my lips gently closed around her, me tugging gently with suction. Her anger quickly faded into lust.

She slipped her hips onto the countertop and spread her legs, pulling at my cheap tie to get me closer. She slipped one had into the slit of her dress, just as she had done before, and pulled it to the side. She furiously tugged the thong to the side revealing the most perfect pussy I had ever seen. She doused it with champagne, but this time didn't need to pull my head in, I was already there. She tasted amazing, the sweetness of the wine mixing with the savory of her flesh. My mouth and tongue lapped at her juicy cunt until I could stick my tongue as deep into her as I could. Her head rolled back with relief and a deep moan started from her chest. I wrapped both arms around her ass to pull her right to the edge of the counter, and shoved my tongue in as deep as I could. One of her hands braced herself, with the other she kneaded her generous breast, finding the nipples with a gentle pinch.

I licked and nibbled and tongued her pussy for well over 5 minutes before I could tell that she wanted more. I stood up, unbuttoned my shirt and dropped my pants and underwear as quickly as I could. She followed my lead, but I beat her to it. I grabbed her by the waist shoved both hands up into her dress, peeling off her crimson thong. I pulled her hips toward me and pushed her face flat onto the counter top.

My throbbing dick could not wait any longer. She tilted her hips back, presenting herself to me and I pushed in as forcefully as I could. She arched her back in pleasure and moaned louder than she had before. I used both hands to grip her perfect hips and started to pound her into the counter. She moaned and bounced with each hit, asking for more with every thrust. I could feel every inch of her as my cock slid from the tip all the way down to my shaft. Her ass jiggled with every hit, mesmerizing me with motion. I realized that I was getting close, and had to pull out quickly in order to stop from coming inside of her. I had to pause, worried of what would happen.

But she wasn't having it. She turned around as quick as she could and demanded "That's not what you're here for, boy." And grabbed my throbbing rod, forcing me into her as she sat back on the counter, facing me this time. I continued as best I could, the break giving me a bit of time. I reached up to her perfect breasts, grabbing and pulling at them, feeling the perfect shape of them. I glanced up to meet her gaze.

Her face looked hard, like she was certainly enjoying this, but it looked like years of loneliness or.... maybe even abuse, had caused her to be hard. I realized that her perfectly bitchy exterior was probably the best defense she had. She never allowed anyone into her life as a defense, it was a way of never showing weakness. But somehow, now, I was literally inside her. We locked eyes, knowingly, as waves of pleasure rolled through our bodies. Her stiff veneer cracked and she gave the most delighted smile I had seen in months. While I was lost in her eyes she wrapped two arms around my neck pulling me close. Her lips found my ear and she gave a soft, breathy, plea. "I want you cum inside of me."

And holy fuck! If everything else didn't do it for me, that certainly did. I tried to hold myself, knowing that she probably hadn't orgasmed yet. I gently laid her on the counter, one hand finding her breast, the other slowly tracing circles around her clit. I slowly increased the rhythm until I could tell she was close. Her breathing turned higher pitched, and her moans pleaded for me more and more. As she erupted into climax I made one final push, knowing that I was well past my stopping point. I pulled her in tight, pushing my dick as far into her pulsating pussy as I could go. I came as hard as I ever have. Every muscle I had shot my seed into her as forcefully as I could.

It took us 15 minutes to recover. We slowly stabilized our shaky legs, she pulled me in for one kind kiss, and then we both had a glass of champagne. She ended up wiping my cream with her dress as it slowly seeped from inside her.

Almost immediately I saw the facade come back.

"I've got to find something to wear, and shower again." She said flustered. "And you have to clean up this mess before the guests arrive." She said turning to leave. And just as she was almost around the corner, headed upstairs, she looked at me with a smile. " I'll triple your rate if you stay one hour after the party!" And left.