Walk a Crooked Milf Ch. 03

The men were very forward and lewd with the women and openly fondled them and spoke to them quite lasciviously. I tried to ignore the goings on and took around trays of canapés and more drinks. I cleaned up as I went as I had been directed to do.

After a short period the men began to disrobe. Some stripped down to their underwear and some stripped naked. As I had been ordered to do, I tried not to stare but I was becoming very excited. Undoubtedly there was about to be an orgy and I would be able to watch it.

One of the men took Mrs Blundell over to the four poster bed and they began to engage in sex while another man stood by watching and waiting his turn.

The remainder took Mrs Cashmore and Mrs Bancroft to the new bed and most began to engage in group sex with both women while one or two stood by watching until they replaced those who had sated themselves. That was how the evening progressed and I was kept busy providing food and drinks and cleaning up. Once the initial frenzy of debauchery died down the men and women took a break to reconstitute, sitting around drinking, smoking and talking. Some of the men left the party and I showed them to the front door. Now and then one of the remaining men would single out one of the women and take her over to one of the beds to have sex.

It is hard to imagine but after observing the frenzied debauchery and consequential coupling, watching the sex actually became boring and besides I was kept busy.

A few of the men made half-hearted passes at me but it was mostly just teasing and Mrs Cashmore directed the men away from me and they were more than happy to have their needs attended to by any one of the erotically presented women who were there specifically to tend to their needs. I was later to discover that the men had paid a premium to attend the party and expected to get full value for money.

In the early hours of the morning most of the attendees were drunk and just lazed around smoking and talking. One of the men took Mrs Cashmore aside and they had an in-depth discussion turning my way and gesturing. Mrs Cashmore nodded to the gentleman and then she came over to speak to me.

"Mr Smith, not his real name but it will serve the purpose for now, has offered me quite a lot of money to spend some time with you," Mrs Cashmore explained.

I blanched and felt faint.

"You've got to be joking! I'm not doing anything more than carrying out my maid duties," I replied angrily.

"Oh Wendy. You silly girl," she laughed in my face.

"You will do whatever I tell you to do," she said calmly.

"Hey everyone! Who wants to watch some home movies?" Mrs Cashmore shouted out to the remaining revellers.

Two prostitutes and four remaining men all enthusiastically replied that they would be delighted to do so.

Mrs Cashmore turned on the large-screen TV and put a tape in the VCR and took the remote. The tape was a composite spliced together from video that Mrs Cashmore, unbeknownst to me, had filmed during my visits to the basement. It was a tell-all tale that was degrading and explosive. There was footage of me being whipped and beaten, being transformed from a teenage boy to a teenage girl, begging for release, squealing while I was being punished and most incriminating, an extended scene of me dressed as a young woman, tied to the saltire cross being buggered by Mrs Cashmore.

This final scene was greeted by raucous applause.

I was cajoled and teased by the men and women as they dressed and got ready to leave. I busied myself cleaning up around them feeling embarrassed and utterly degraded. I burned with indignity and I intended to tell Mrs Cashmore that she had gone too far and that I would no longer be heeding her summonses.

Mrs Blundell and Mrs Bancroft changed into more appropriate attire and left. Mrs Bancroft came over and gave me an affectionate hug and told me not to worry about the video.

"It's not like anyone in this audience can talk about it. All those men are married professionals whose lives would be ruined if anyone knew about their secret peccadilloes," she explained.

The other men left too with the exception of the man who Mrs Cashmore had referred to as Mr Smith. He and Mrs Cashmore were once again involved in a heated exchange. Mrs Cashmore appeared to cede to whatever Mr Smith had proposed.

"Come over here Wendy," she said to me quite tersely.

I didn't want to. With all my heart and soul I didn't want to surrender to Mrs Cashmore's authority. I knew that nothing good was going to come of it. I had already decided that I would no longer remain under her spell.

I went over as ordered.

She was standing next to the restraint table which had been pushed against the wall. She told me to extend my wrists into the restraints which I could only do by bending over the table. With all my consciousness I refused to obey.

I bent over the table and put my wrists in the restraints.

Mrs Cashmore locked my wrists into the handcuff-like devices and I shivered with dread. She walked behind me and pulled my knickers down around my ankles.

"I'll leave you two lovebirds to it. Enjoy yourself Mr Smith, you can pay me on the way out," she said and I heard her footsteps receding up the stairs and the finality of the sound of the cellar door closing.

I was alone with Mr Smith, who was still naked and standing behind me. Bound to the table, bent over it with my knickers down, I felt vulnerable and was shivering with fear.

I felt Mr Smith position himself behind me and I winced in anticipation of the extreme pain and humiliation that he was about to inflict on me.

He lifted my dress up and I tensed with dread.

Then I felt my satin panties sliding up my stocking-clad legs and being pulled snuggly into place. Mr Smith came around to my side and unclasped the restraints and helped me to my feet.

He turned me to face him, his face only inches from mine. He wasn't handsome but he had a pleasant face. His hair was thinning and he was a little pudgy but he looked at me with kindness and compassion. He brushed a stray lock of hair from my face.

"Not this way. I don't want you this way," he whispered.

"You are beautiful. Exquisite. You are to be slowly savoured not swiftly ravaged," he said.

This was the first time that anyone had been kind to me whilst I inhabited Wendy's persona. I could see the genuine affection and yes, to be honest, lust in his eyes. I felt special, I felt beautiful, I felt desired... I felt feminine.

When he pulled me closer and kissed me I melted in his arms. I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my body against him. The feel of the satin French maid's uniform was sensual against my skin, especially where it grazed my knickers and stockings.

His lips were full and sensual and as much as I thought I would be repulsed by kissing a man the opposite was true. It felt delightful and it made me feel a little powerful knowing that this man found me attractive. I opened my lips a little when he offered his tongue and when he explored my mouth I felt myself becoming tumescent and I could feel his lips form a smile and so did mine.

I could feel his cock poking me in the belly and then he began to rub it on my white satin apron. I instructively wrapped the slinky apron around his turgid member and began to stroke it. He gasped and thrust his hand between our bodies and lifted my skirt and began to stroke my cock through my satin knickers and it was my turn to gasp.

Any inkling that I had that it was William in the basement dissipated at that moment; there was only Wendy. I became Wendy. I thought like Wendy, I felt like Wendy, I lusted like Wendy. I wanted Mr Smith to make me feel like a real woman.

I allowed him to guide me over to the bed where we broke our embrace. I started to undress but Mr Smith stopped me. He unbuttoned my bodice and put his hands in my bra and ripped out the breastforms.

"We don't need those silly things," he whispered as he buttoned up my bodice.

"I want you just like are. I've always had a fantasy about French maids and also about special ladies like yourself and now I get to experience them both in the same package so to speak," he stroked my arms.

Then he pushed me and I fell back on the bed and he leapt on the bed and lay beside me, smiling at me. I stroked his face and he took my fingers and kissed them.

"You are exquisite," he sighed and rolled on top of me and began to kiss me.

"There are so many things that I want to do to you and that I want you to do to me but its late so let's enjoy the little time we have together to its fullest," he whispered between kisses.

His hands were everywhere, stroking my legs, stroking my face, stroking my cock through my knickers and I reciprocated and took him in my hand. His cock felt meaty and powerful and not at all disgusting. I loved the feel of it, the latent power of it, the turgidity of it. I wanted to put it in my mouth and suckle it but Mr Smith had other ideas.

He forced my legs open and lifted them high and lay between them. He fumbled on the bedside table and then I felt him ease the crotch of my panties aside and a cool soothing gel being applied my sphincter and then I felt his glans pressing where his fingers had been.

"Are you ready?" he looked down at me lovingly.

I nodded and I put my hands around his neck and pulled his face to mine so that he was kissing me when he entered me.

He did so slowly and carefully, responding to my little winces of pain and sighs of pleasure. I relaxed my sphincter and made it easier for both of us as he pushed his manhood into me, one little infinitesimal fragment at a time. It hurt at first and I felt unbelievably full and stretched and then I felt unbelievable pleasure and I wrapped my silken-sheathed legs around his torso and impaled myself on him.

"There. Now fuck me Mr Smith," I smiled up at him.

"I'd be delighted to Wendy," he grinned down at me.

He lowered his face to mine and kissed me passionately as he began to slowly fuck me. The pleasure receptors in my sphincter and my prostate were super-energised and the feeling of his big cock filling my anus was euphoric. This was no rubber dildo but a real flesh and blood penis inside me and it made me feel simultaneously submissive and dominant.

I squirmed beneath Mr Smith and gasped between open-mouthed sloppy kisses as he held me down and vigorously fucked me, slamming his cock in and out of my anus as my heels and fingernails raked his back to encourage him. My whole body was electrified with the rapturous sensuality of it. I felt like a young woman. I felt like a slut. I loved it!

Mr Smith's belly was rubbing on my cock still trapped inside my satin panties and I think that was the final provocation; the breaking point if you will, that tipped me over and triggered my orgasm.

I clung to Mr Smith and kissed him fervidly as I lifted my buttocks off the bed so that every scintilla of his turgid throbbing manhood was buried inside me. I felt his release. He groaned into my open mouth as his cock shuddered inside my anal sheath and flooded me with his scalding seed. I filled my panties with my sperm and rubbed against him to increase my pleasure.

We pawed at each other, kissed each other, ground against each other, we fucked each other, until we were both spent and satiated.

Mr Smith lay on top of me panting and gasping. He was heavy and I could feel his heart pounding. His erection began to diminish and his cock plopped out of my tight anus followed by a trickle of semen. My body was soaked with his sweat, my knickers were sodden with my semen, my lips were swollen from his kisses and my anus throbbed dully.

I had never felt so happy in my life.

Once he had his breathing under control Mr Smith lifted himself off me. I expected him to climb off the bed and leave me now that he had used me; I knew that he was in a hurry. But he didn't. He lay beside me, kissing me affectionately and telling me how wonderful and beautiful I was. But I was right. It was very late and he had to go.

I lay on the bed and watched him dress. He bought me over a drink a cigarette and sat on the bed to put on his shoes and socks.

"You are wonderful Wendy. That's what I'm going to call you... Wonderful Wendy," he smiled down at me.

He smoothed my hair and kissed my forehead and rummaged in his inside pocket.

"I hope to see you again soon. Keep this. Don't give it to Delores," he dropped a fifty pound note on the bed and walked to the stairs.

I put down my drink and cigarette on the bedside table and lay on my back holding the fifty pound note up in front of my face.

I heard the clatter of Mrs Cashmore's heels on the stairs and then on the floor as she approached.

"What do you have there Wendy? Who let you out of the restraints?" she said sharply.

I lowered the note and looked up at her.

Her face screwed up with anger.

"Get off the bed and clean this place up! Clean yourself up!" she screamed at me.

"Fuck that, I'm too tired. I'll see you later this evening," I gingerly lifted myself off the bed.

Mrs Cashmore stood there like a statute, incredulous that I had spoken to her that way.

I didn't bother changing. I walked next door still dressed as Wendy. It was three in the morning and I doubted very much that mother would be awake to see me.

Too bad if she was.

To be continued