You're Nobody ... Ch. 01

I moaned inwardly as she pinched a nipple. It had been months since I'd had a woman, and then it had been a hurried experience, furtive and unrewarding, as the two of us wondered if her husband, sleeping off a drunk in the next room, might discover us.

In my tumescent state my member popped out from the loosely wrapped robe and peeked into the bedroom with me. I know the damned thing can't see out of its one eye, but it certainly seemed pleased by what it was pointed at and rose to unexpected heights, causing me to tuck it back under the robe with an alarming haste.

I turned my attention back to the daughter. Had she allowed herself to be brutalized? Had she liked it? The fact that she was playing with her breasts didn't answer the questions, but then with a slightly open mouth, she watched in the mirror as she put both hands on her nipples and pinched. Her eyes were half-closed; a look of indulgent lewdness came over her face as she dug her nails into her tender, pink, pale flesh. Her nipples swelled from the pressure applied to them.

She closed her eyes and shuddered. A moment later she inflicted a greater pressure on her nipples and winced from the pain. Then letting the robe fall to the floor, she ran into the bathroom and closed the door.

I had no alternative. I returned to my bedroom, went into the bathroom, sat down on the commode and jerked off, relishing the prompt relief my orgasm bought. After cleaning up after myself, I returned to the slightly opened door of the Klugman girl and looked in again.

She was back in front of the mirror, eyes half-closed, and hands visibly shaking as she studied the rest of her body. In sync with her, I saw the bruised thighs and welts on her buttocks. A deep shudder was evident the moment she spied the later marks on her ass and flanks.

Who had done this to her? I swore that moment to take revenge on whomever it was that had damaged her porcelain body like that.

I knew that many women fantasize about being a whore. Although few will admit it, every woman is secretly excited by the idea. I could only guess that this young girl had also imagined herself a prostitute, only to meet the wrong guy who had actually treated her like one.

She straightened up, and still watching herself in the mirror, leaned in until her nipples pressed against the cool glass of the mirror. Her breath was coming rapidly, leaving a little spot fogged on the mirror. With the flat of her hands, she felt her rib cage, let her hands wander down over her tautly flat stomach over several dark bruises to feel the four wavering, parallel fingernail scratch marks that started at her pubic hair and went up to her navel.

Despite having jerked off minutes earlier, I was hard again and took myself in hand and slowly stroked my erection.

Her hands were in her pubic hair now, one palm cupped her prominent mound and an outstretched finger barely touched the clitoris, a little pink bud that was oiled with her excitement and maddeningly like a ball bearing each time her finger rubbed over it. I had to restrain myself from entering the room and falling upon her.

The young girl stopped touching herself, I saw a pensive expression cross her dark eyed face, and then she crossed the room, grabbed a stool over to the mirror and stood in front of it again, taking in her long, lithe body before putting a foot up on the stool. With her knee bent, she inadvertently exposed her glistening pink pussy to my eyes.

I sucked in my breath as her eyelids fluttered like butterfly wings and she slowly and oh so fucking lewdly spread her fluted cuntal lips to the mirror's eyes.

I thought it was me willing her to go on. I doubt I had anything to do with what followed, but who knows? Without volition, her fingers began working at the sensitive little nerve bud, sending spasms of lewd pleasure rippling through her body.

Her eyes were almost closed and her nostrils were widely flared as she watched herself in the mirror. She crouched a little and slowly sank her middle finger into her wetly clasping cunt, feeling the slipperiness of the lubrication and the hot velvet walls milking her own finger. She began sawing in and out, her ripe young hips slowly and rhythmically beginning to pump in time to her strokes. She watched herself in the mirror, seemingly fascinated with the lewdness of her pumping motion.

I felt hot and feverish from the wild molten feeling stirring in my own loins.

Her orgasm was building as she increased the tempo of her fingering, pulling it out to the tip of the nail then plunging the wetly glistening finger back in again up to the palm. Her hips were pumping easily, smoothly, with a lewd fucking motion that I had once seen from a topless dancer in San Francisco.

The brazenness of her actions prodded the girl to increase the pace of her finger fucking into her own heatedly excited pussy. She crouched a little and spread her legs even more. Suddenly, her free hand was cupping her breast and squeezing the nipple, pinching it tight and sending bolts of pained sensuality through her that mingled like an explosive smoky substance in her groin, boiling, building and churning as it drove her harder and harder.

It was obviously she was about to cum.

Her nakedly voluptuous body was tense now and her heavy breasts were jiggling as she sawed her finger in and out faster and faster. Suddenly she needed even more. Her free hand left her breasts and flew down, nails savagely clawing at one cheek of her ass as she leaned forward and reached for her anus. She jumped when her outstretched fingers touched it, but her unrelenting need and the promise of untold lewd delights made her go on.

Her finger pressed against the rubbery tight ring and parted it, and her sphincter muscle closed tightly around the fingertip. A low, coarse moan escaped her throat as she watched herself in the mirror and felt the inward swelling that she knew would culminate in an orgasm.

Her finger fucked in and out of her anus, and her face contorted as she hissed in her breath and it seemed like another person who whispered, "Ooooh, so freakin' good!"

She began panting and crouching lower, splaying out her legs even more, allowing herself greater freedom to stick her other finger up her rectum. She shoved her outstretched finger all the way up her anus and moaned and wiggled with delight from the feeling it gave her. She took her finger out of her cunt only to shove three fingers into the warmly milking flesh.

My own hand was a blur as it pistoned up and down hurrying me along to my second orgasm of the afternoon. I came, this time spewing my load on the door to her bedroom while riveted on the savage jiggling and quivering of her tits as she continued with fingering of both cunt and asshole.

I saw her back arch, and knew a wave of sweet electricity was flowing through her. I saw her pelvis convulse against the mirror; saw her legs shake as she sank to her knees on the carpeted floor, panting. I saw the whites of her eyes reflected back at me in the mirror as I closed the bedroom door and wiped my semen up with the hem of my robe.

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I approached Warren as soon as he returned from work later that day to ask if he had anything I might wear around the house.

It hadn't occurred to him that I might be in need of something to wear. He wrote down my shirt, pant and shoe sizes, and left the house to find something appropriate.

Two hours later I was wearing the most expensive pair of Kaki's I'd ever seen, along with a chambray shirt that must have cost as much as my last suit. There was three pair of shoes; brown loafer's, which I wore the remainder of the day, boat shoes, and a pair of black dress shoes, all of which fit perfectly, and two polo shirts, more than likely, Ralph Lauren's. Warren told me I would be fitted for several suits and sport jackets the following day at a place he knew on Rodeo Drive.

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THE SON

I made my way downstairs and met Johnny Klugman, Warren's son, who greeted me affably enough and I liked him right off. He was a shy eighteen year old, with a slight case of acne and a little stutter. He was a good-looking kid and I tried talking with him at length, but he wasn't all that receptive to conversation with me and after what seemed a reasonable period, he excused himself and went upstairs to his room.

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THE MAID

I had just slipped into the expensive pair of chinos and was about to pull a Ralph Lauren polo shirt over my head when the door to my room suddenly opened and the maid walked in. She appeared to be as surprised as me on finding me there.

"Oh, I'm so sorry... I thought you were in the other room."

Since she was an attractive woman I immediately apologized and helped her save face by asking if I were in the wrong room.

"I... I don't know, sir. Not for sure. I... I thought I heard Mrs. Klugman mention you were in the Gray room..."

I glanced at the walls and saw that they were light lavender.

"Look I just... what's your name? I feel awkward talking to you and not knowing your name."

"My name is Consuela Gonzales, sir."

I told her my name and saw her commit it to memory.

"Consuela, would it be easier for you if I moved my things into the gray room?"

"Oh, sir, I wouldn't want to inconvenience you."

"But if Mrs. Klugman wants me in the Gray room I should be in the Gray room. Hospitality shouldn't be abused."

"I can help you move your things, sir. I see that you've injured your hand."

"Thank you, I'd appreciate it. Mr. Klugman happened to run over my hand with his car this afternoon."

"Mio Dios!" Consuela gasped and clutched my other arm.

"Oh, it hurt for a while, but it feels pretty good at the moment." I was looking directly into her deep brown eyes and realized I could very easily lose myself in them. Consuela was a Latin looker, and I liked Latin lookers. Well, I liked women in general, and after watching Klugman's daughter masturbate, I was more than a little randy.

Consuela was already picking up the articles of clothing Klugman had bought me and arranging them so they could be moved to the Gray room with ease.

She knelt down in front of me – not right in front of me- to pick up my new shoes and from that angle I could see straight down the front of her dress to her impressive breasts. Her naturally brown skin tantalized and stunned me for a brief second. I, of course, had noticed that Consuela was an attractive young woman, but given my horny condition, my dick picked that moment to pitch a tent in my new chinos.

Her large firm mounds swayed under my gaze as she picked up the shoes and placed them back in their respective boxes. As she started to rise up I caught a quick glimpse of a dark brown areola, but not any nipple; all the same I almost came in my new chinos.

Then she was standing before me, looking me in the eye. "Can you manage the shirts, sir?"

"Yes, certainly," I responded, embarrassed at having been caught peeking down her top and even more so when she noted the erection, which a moment before had been scant inches from her face.

Consuela clutched the shoe boxes to her bosom and headed for the door. I followed, holding the shirt over my tent.

On entering the gray room, I carefully closed the door behind me and tossed the shirt onto the closest chair. Consuela was bending over, placing the shoes on the floor.

I moved behind her, placed my hands on her hips as she stood up.

"What?"

I was already pulling her ass back against my hard on.

"Oh... Mister... there are many peoples in the house!"

That was a very promising protest. I suspected that this beauty was being poked on a regular basis by Mr. Klugman himself. I gave a small credence to her and Mrs. Klugman having a thing going on, and even less to her and either the son or daughter.

Somebody was banging her. As good as she looked it was inconceivable that she was working in this household without doing someone and that had to be Klugman.

That reasoning told me that he didn't have the opportunity to bang her regularly. Mrs. Klugman was nobody's fool, and would be watching them closely. In addition they would have to contend with the kids, who might roam about and barge in unexpectedly at any time.

My own ego kicked in about then. How did I stack up against Klugman as a potential lover? Well, I had no idea about his dick size. I was more than comfortable with my own though. Point to me. What would happen if I were caught in the sack with Consuela? Worst case, I'd be out on my ass. But since Klugman was culpable in that he'd injured my hand and that he was also banging the maid, he wouldn't toss me out. Mrs. Klugman wouldn't either, although she might read me the riot act, she had no basis for going nutso over me and Consuela.

In fact, it would probably relieve her of any concerns she had about her husband and the maid.

All these thoughts ran through my mind while I formulated an answer to Consuela's protest that there were other's about in the house.

"No problem," I whispered to her ear, "but please don't scream. I bet you don't have a green card, do you, Consuela?"

"How you know that?" she hissed fearfully.

"I know, and I know you fuck Mr. Klugman too."

"Consuela's eyes widened, "He tell you that?"

"One look at you and I knew, Consuela. That's all it took, was the one look." I was lying through my teeth, but he had to be the one. I doubted she'd ask Klugman if he'd told me. In her world, most men were viewed as pigs. So it figured that he'd brag about banging her to the next guy that came along.

Consuela was in no position to protest. She could scream and possibly bring Mrs. Klugman running. But what if it were one of the children that came? She didn't want that. Struggling was useless, so she pleaded, "Please, Mister, don't do this!"

I placed my good hand over her huge melons, gave them a light squeeze and nuzzled her neck.

"Why you do this to me? I'm not that kind..."

She had to turn her face to utter the words and I seized that opportunity to kiss her open mouth. I jammed my tongue into it so deeply that she couldn't force it back out.

It wasn't so much a kiss as it was my demonstrating that I had an oversized tongue and what it could do inside a body cavity. My dick was still lodged against her ass, and I dropped my hand from her breasts to her crotch and cupped her mons for a moment before returning to her pillow soft tits.

"Madre Mia, protect me!" she wailed, but didn't try to wrest herself away from me as my unerring hand found its way inside her blouse and wriggled into her bra.

"Mother of God, I ask you...." Consuela cried.

"She can't hear you, Consuela. Relax; I'm going to fuck you. I won't hurt you, and I won't tell Mr. Klugman. It will be our little secret."

"You... you don't tell him?"

"I promise." As I uttered the words I was rolling her nipple around with thumb and forefinger.

She began to shake in fear, but managed to stammer, "O... okay; I do it. You don't tell nobody, right?"

Taking my hand out of her bra, I grabbed her blouse and when the buttons didn't open fast enough, ripped it open, sending buttons flying. I used both hands to push her bra up under her chin, exposing those magnificent mammary globes.

About this time it finally sank in that she was about to be fucked and Consuela caved in.

"Okay... okay.... You can have me," she sobbed. "Don hurt me! Don tell no one... please!"

Consuela remained compliant while I pulled her bloomers off and started at her hairy pussy, although she was sobbing and muttering Spanish words I didn't recognize. My guess was that she was praying for help that wasn't coming.

I dropped my pants exposing my eager cock, and then resumed my leisurely exploration of her hairy pussy, preparing her for the inevitable. I let my fingers glide lightly over her inner thighs until I heard her moan.

"Like this, Consuela?"

"OH!" she moaned again.

I grinned at her as my fingertips barely touched the folds of her steamy sex.

Consuela sucked in her breath. She closed her eyes and spread her legs all at once.

I sank two fingers into her hairy beaver. Her arms came up and embraced me.

"You're manhood..." she started to say, but paused as she sought the right word.

"It is very big. Will you go slowly, por favor?"

"I will go slowly, yes," I said, wanting her to enjoy the fuck. After all, tomorrow is another day. Who knew when I'd get an opportunity to get laid again? If Klugman found out what I was doing, he just might be pissed off enough to do something about it.

I rubbed the head of my prick over the entrance of her well lubricated slit. Consuela raised her legs, making it even easier for me to slip it into her, and I did, going slowly as she had asked me too.

It took me three slow thrusts before I was deep inside her fiery furnace. Consuela was into it too, humping back in time with my thrusts. And since I had already watched the daughter masturbating not long before encountering Consuela, it didn't take me to long before I felt myself getting ready to unload.

One thing I didn't want was for Consuela to confront me several week from now with a lament that she was carrying my baby, so I pulled out before I came and left a gooey trail of cum all over her ta-ta's.

"You finish?" Consuela inquired lazily as I wiped my dick off on the sheet.

"Yeah, I finish," I replied.

"I didn't cum," she said accusingly. "I thought...."

"You thought what?" I asked.

"I thought with that big tool... I would have really good one."

I felt a pang of compassion at her honesty and said, "If you want, I'll will go down on you and try to bring you to a decent climax."

"You would put your mouth down there?" she asked incredulously.

"Sure I would. Or we can do it later, say in an hour or so. I haven't had a woman in a long time, Consuela. I couldn't last very long, and I'm sorry you didn't enjoy it. But next time I'll make sure you have a special good time."

Her fingers delved into the cum on her breasts, smearing it in, as one might a skin-care product.

"Okay, I'll come to your room after dinner. Mr. Klugman has a meeting tonight.

"I'll be waiting," I said with a big grin.

I took note of my cock trying its best to rise, and showed Consuela. "He'll be a big boy then too, wait and see."

"Um," she giggled. "I think I'm gonna like you Mr. Homeless."

"Mr. Homeless?"

"Yes, that's your name, no?"

"No, it isn't my name."

"But I hear the Mrs. Say it when she talk to Mr. Klugman about you. "Mr. Homeless, she say."

"Okay, Mr. Homeless it is," I said and kept the smile on my face as she fixed the torn blouse as best she could and left me sitting on the bed with a now throbbing hand. I'd done something stupid while banging Consuela. Not that I regretted any of it.