When Violet Met Orlando

Wisps of dark hair gently pressed against Violet's rosy cheeks as a summer breeze blew through the window. Hints of autumn were in the air, Violet noted in the rustle of the leaves and tree branches that now bore apples. This made her smile and close her eyes to enjoy the last kiss of summer and a brief moment of serenity before dinner preparations had to begin.

"Buonasera signorina! It is too early for sleeping, no?" a teasing voice called to her from above.

Violet's eyes popped open in surprise at the interruption. Leaning her head out the window she saw the tan, muscular physique of Orlando, the window washer. Peter had hired one at the beginning of the summer when he realized most of the staff would be at the summer home. Orlando was an agile, artistic man who had moved with his Italian family to America as a young boy. Window washing had helped him learn English quickly since he got to eavesdrop while working. Thursdays were his day at the James' residence, but Peter had forgotten to tell Violet. This had resulted in much embarrassment, for Violet screamed so loudly the first time she saw Orlando climb his ladder that she almost got him arrested. Fortunately, Orlando was able to produce the contract signed by Peter for police and had somehow remained calm throughout the ordeal. Even though all had been able to laugh it off, Violet had insisted that he stay for dinner as recompense. Ever since that day he would save the kitchen windows for last, so that they could talk while Violet cooked dinner for Peter. Sometimes Orlando would stay and eat with Violet, but if not he never went home empty-handed. Orlando swore to Violet that there was a job for her in his family's restaurant if they ever saved up enough to open one.

"You do love to startle me, don't you! Somehow I forgot it was Thursday," Violet remarked as she unbuttoned the top of her dress a bit.

"You make it so easy, though," Orlando chided. "Easier than making art."

"When do I get to see this famous artwork of yours?" Violet quizzed as she began to cut vegetables.

"Someday, bella Violet, someday," he replied, the usual response, as he climbed down the ladder to her window.

Violet rolled her eyes at this, but continued to dice the vegetables as he began to wash the kitchen panes. She leaned over the food in case Orlando should look her way, for Violet felt flirty that afternoon. Surely he would notice the fruit that hang from her chest, pressed up against the tight corset. It was no easy task, though, for Orlando was not easily distracted. He liked to sing softly as he washed, especially near the end of the day. Violet switched focus to her master's dinner so not to let it burn, though she doubted Peter would reprimand her after sucking his cock the other night. On the contrary, Violet had Peter in the palm of her hand now, but she had no need for blackmail. They would have to be careful, though, for his butler, Gerrard, was an observant, old fellow. The end of Orlando's song snapped Violet out of her thoughts and back on to her employer's dinner, which was fortunately almost done. Cooking for one took much less time, than an entire household, though that would soon change. Mrs. James along with the rest of the staff would be back in a week.

"So silent today. How shall I get that tongue moving again?" Orlando questioned with a raised eyebrow as he leaned against the window frame.

"I can think of a few ways," Violet responded, "I was just lost in my thoughts."

Orlando stepped away from the window, went to the servants door, and Violet soon heard his steps on the stone, kitchen floor.

"Let me help you find a way out of your thoughts," Orlando said as he began to waltz over to Violet's place by the stove.

Violet did her best to protest, but was soon swept up in a waltz around the room. Laughter filled the kitchen as they danced around the room. Once Orlando spun Violet away, she slipped out of his grasp and rang for Gerrard. The sooner Peter's food was gone, the better for they could be alone. Gerrard, as if an actor awaiting his cue, briskly strode into the kitchen, then back out with the food. He was never much for words, unless he found a problem with one's uniform or work performance. They stifled a laugh as they sat down to bread and soup. Violet felt such a kinship with Orlando and wondered if he felt the same. They had been engaging each other for two months now, but she knew nothing about courtship since such things didn't happen for working girls.

"Orlando, what do you think of me?" Violet blurted out for she always felt it was better to be blunt than allusive.

"So many words come to mind that it is hard to decide," Orlando paused to sip his soup, "You have a beautiful spirit about you, so full of life."

"Do I? What else?" Violet leaned in as she sipped slowly.

"I should love to use you as a subject for my art, but I doubt you would be comfortable," Orlando chuckled to himself as if knowing a secret joke.

"What makes you say that?" Violet sat up as if offended.

"Well, most ladies in America, that I've met, disapprove when I ask," Orlando looked down into his soup.

"I am not most ladies," Violet challenged.

Orlando looked across their little table, right into Violet's eyes and she returned the gaze. It felt like a test and she was determined to pass. It helped that his eyes were the color of chocolate and made her warm all over, Violet could've stared all day into them. As if reading this in her eyes, Orlando broke first and softly chuckled to himself again.

"I should like to photograph you...without clothing."

"Oh," Violet felt a tingling sensation between her legs, "I would like that very much."

"Realement? Truly?" Orlando almost jumped from his chair in excitement, but instead took Violet's hands in his. They were warm and calloused; it aroused something within her.

"We could start now if you like," Violet leaned in and smiled coyly at him.

"I don't have my camera with me, but I should like to see you first. Memorize your body with my eyes."

Violet could hardly speak for the excitement she felt, whether it was for Orlando, specifically, or to have a man's gaze on her at last. It was impossible to tell. Not wasting anytime or caring about what chores remained to be done, Violet rose from her chair and led Orlando to her room. This was becoming a habit not unusual for bunters, but Violet listened to her body's command. Orlando only seemed, momentarily, shocked when she led and sat him down in her room. He watched her close the door softly and turn to face him. Taking a deep breath to steady her racing heart, Violet began, slowly, untying her apron, then unbuttoning the front of her dress uniform. Orlando first noted her exposed shoulders as she slipped out of her dress and how her pale breasts rose and fell with each breath. Excitement was mounting inside Violet as she watched Orlando watching her. With each layer she removed, he leaned in closer. Orlando's breath caught in his throat as Violet tossed aside her corset. Unexpected was the lust building within him, but he stayed passive on the outside. Violet turned back towards the door to remove the last piece of clothing to prolong the intensity of waiting to be fully seen. The creamy chemise slid to the ground and goosebumps rose on her flesh as the cool air made contact with Violet's skin. Orlando looked in awe as Violet turned to face him and he rose to walk towards her.

"You are a living work of art," Orlando whispered. "I have never seen a woman like this. Only men."

Violet took his hands into hers and placed them on her swollen breasts. Her cunny moistened as Orlando's hands began to grope and play with her perky, amber nipples. Next he let his rough hands glide down her waist, then her hips, until he had to kneel down to continue his memorization. Orlando was transfixed by every curve and freckle he discovered on her slender frame. Violet closed her eyes to revel in this moment more. She felt him place a palm on her round rump and squeeze, which caused her to gasp.

"You are beautiful, there is no doubt, but only my eyes can have this feast," Orlando whispered warmly as he stood up again.

"My body can be for whatever you wish," Violet said as she leaned into him and felt his firm staff press into her leg.

"There are other ways to take care of that," Orlando said as he went to sit on her bed.

"Can I help?" Violet begged as she went to kneel in front of him.

"We can help ourselves together," Orlando said as he pulled Violet onto the bed next to him.

Orlando slid out of his suspenders and unbuttoned his pants while Violet watched with bated breath. She let her eyes slip down to where his hands were, between his legs where another member made itself known. The buttons on Orlando's underwear were practically bursting to reveal the bulge underneath. Violet reached a hand over to help relieve their strain, but Orlando stopped her with his own. Violet pouted until Orlando set his long, thick staff free from its restraint, to which caused her to gasp. She had never seen one so big that it was intimidating, yet her mouth began watering for it. Violet licked her lips and leaned in, but was once again stopped by Orlando's hands.

"Why do you restrain me, Orlando? I want to help," Violet tempted.

"I want to watch you help yourself while you watch me," Orlando instructed.

"Only sinners touch like that," Violet debated.

"Says the lady who sits naked next to me," Orlando chided.

Violet knew she wouldn't win this argument, but she feigned a pout again in hopes it would change Orlando's mind. Instead he chortled quietly and began to run his right hand up and down his truncheon. Violet was so mesmerized that she failed to realize her own hand had moved down to touch her cock lane. Her maidenhead was so swollen that the lightest touch almost made Violet jump. With fingers on either side of her heavenly button, Violet began to massage herself while she watched Orlando rub himself. Orlando watched her long fingers move around her cunny, among the curls in her dark downy. Orlando felt himself grow even harder and began to increase the speed of his hand. Their hands moved up and down, back and forth, in similar yet different motions; their breath would occasionally sync up like lovers' do. Their flesh began to squish against their hands as they grew wetter with each stroke. Violet had to lay back, eventually, for her passion began to overtake her. Orlando watched her squirm against her own hand and moaned softly. Violet noted his pink head bulging in his hand's grip and watched Orlando bend back at the neck and bite his lip in pained ecstasy. The motion of their hands began to speed up against themselves, the rasp of their breath grew shallower and faster.

"May I finish on you?" Orlando asked between gritted teeth.

"Yes, please, yes!" Violet begged him.

Orlando quickly turned himself to lean over Violet's writhing body and groaned as he felt himself grow closer to blissful death. Violet moaned in response and rubbed herself with such a fury. Her hand ached, but she would not rest at the risk of losing the oncoming gush of joy. Violet looked up at Orlando, who's eyes were clenched shut, and arched her back.

"Oh, God, oh God! Yes, oh-!" Violet softly shrieked as Orlando sprayed himself across her chest and stomach.

Orlando continued to buck as Violet also reached heaven. He opened his eyes to watch her body be overtaken by the Devil and knew he had to capture her like this. One hand between her legs while the other raked through her tresses, her mouth perfectly round, and her breasts flushed from rapture. Violet's body relaxed after a while and she opened her eyes to see Orlando still above with a look of admiration. They eyes remained locked as Violet ran a finger across her chest, through Orlando's warm juices, and lick it off. Violet's eyes closed again as she savored him.

"You are a wonder, Violet."

"Help me wash, sweet Orlando," Violet decided as she rose and brought over the basin and towel.

Orlando did as commanded by the lady, took up the towel, and helped wash himself off of Violet. Violet watched, proudly, in the mirror and felt triumphant. Once he was done, Orlando helped Violet back into her uniform and buttoned himself back into his trousers. They both shared one last chortle before they left Violet's room to go back to the kitchen. An evening's worth of chores awaited Violet, yet she felt refreshed and somewhat jovial about it. Orlando was in no rush to leave, fortunately, so they opened a bottle of wine that Violet had held onto when Gerrard had deemed it "unsuitable" for the James'. They laughed and drank the evening away, while Violet cleaned, almost like nothing had happened between them.

Unbeknownst to them, Peter had been lurking in shadows as they left Violet's room. While it was much earlier than their usual rendezvous, Peter had felt compelled to go down and revisit lessons from their recent evening. When he got to Violet's door, he heard the sounds of amorous congress within and stayed there, stock still, until he heard their muffled shrieks and groans. Peter closed his eyes and felt himself stiffen, but also felt a pang of jealousy. Curiosity also struck him as he wondered what it would be like to watch them. This thought forced him to hasten upstairs for, clearly, he needed a cold bath.