Maid For Lucy

I had a maid service business when I was a senior in college and met a woman from Amsterdam while I was cleaning her place one summer morning.

I could hear someone in the shower when I knocked on the door, but a female voice said come in, so I did. She was talking to me from the bath, and then came on into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around her. It was like a steam room in there, so I punched the window air conditioning unit on. She had never seen such a thing and thought it was remarkable. She had a really pretty face, sparkling blue eyes, an easy smile, wavy light brown shoulder-length hair, and a great body barely hidden by the thin, wet towel. The cold air had her nipples straining against it. Her name was Lucy. Fresh from the shower with no make-up at all, she was truly a natural beauty, and at 25, a few years older than me.

While I made the bed, she strolled on into the adjoining sunroom and lay down on the window seat, still chatting with me.

I quickly cleaned the rest of the place, and joined her in the sun room, sitting down beside her on the window seat in the bright sunlight

Every time she'd shift, the towel would ease away just a little more from her body, until one breast was in view. Nevertheless, she appeared comfortable and relaxed.

Gradually, the towel fell almost completely away, and I tell you, she was just stunning, quite dark-skinned for a blue-eyed Northern European, with cinnamon-brown nipples and lips. Her sexy Belgian accent alone was a turn-on. I don't think she was coming on to me at all, rather, she was just European, with that so-what-it's-only-nudity nonchalance.

Well, I had the hots for her, and told her I thought she was beautiful and sexy, then softly circled her lips with an index finger and then dragged it over her chin, down her neck, through her generous cleavage, circled her navel, and parked it in her pubes a quarter inch from her clit.

Lucy acted like no man had ever told her she was beautiful, saying, "You really sink so?" and was actually blushing!

I bent over and kissed her, and she kissed back, gently, not in a particularly hungry way. I just screwed up my courage and asked her if she'd like to make love. Again, she seemed so flattered and made some comment about it must be true that American men are the world's horniest. I clarified that there were many available sexy women in that college town, but I wanted her. She didn't directly answer my question, and, not wanting to live up to her stereotype of the overbearing, over-sexed American man, I didn't press it.

Lucy just couldn't seem to get it that she was gorgeous and ANY heterosexual male would swim an ocean for her.

Well, with the insouciance of discussing the day's weather, she mentioned the week-long conference that had brought her HUSBAND to town. Lucy said that this was her first trip to America, and that she was on her own during the day and would really appreciate my showing her around.

I took that as a "yes" to my advance, but wasn't really sure.

I finished up the work by 1:30, came back to her place, and we walked the block down to the college strip to have lunch. She was wearing a thin, loose-fitting cotton A-line dress, in a somewhat faded small print pattern. Beneath it, her grapefruit-size boobs gently bobbled and curvy hips swayed, but she was not showing off; that was just her natural gait.

As usual, there were a bevy of college babes in the deli, some of them real hotties, but everyone was checking out Lucy. She was different from the American chicks, a little in her looks but mostly in movement, gestures, mannerism, and, of course, that accent. She never seemed to even notice that men and women alike were looking at her, focusing all of her attention on me and enjoying her very first cheeseburger. She asked what the special sauce on it was. I didn't have the heart to tell her it was grease!

An hour later, we were back at my place in bed, naked.

I have never been with a woman who was more relaxed and patient about sex than she. I mean, I like to do lots of body caressing and kissing and gobs of foreplay, but she wanted to go slower, much slower. For example, for half an hour, I'd been kissing her lips and ears and face and neck and fondling her breasts. Finally, I kissed on down to her scrumptious boobs when she pulled me back up to her face and said she just couldn't take me nibbling her nipples yet.

Wonderfully frustrating!!!

At long last, I finally latched onto those orbs and enjoyed the hell out of them forever before she was OK with me just touching her pussy, and after an eternity, finally being comfortable with my tasting her engorged, wet pussy. As soon as my lips touched her clit, she came, clutching her breasts and pinching the nipples as she uttered some sexy who-knows-whats in Dutch.

I ate her pussy for a really long time and she came over and over and over. Finally, she said she wanted to give me pleasure--as if what I'd done already was not!--and kissed me all over until she came to my raging dick, licking and nibbling it seemingly forever before putting it in her mouth and giving me a marathon, super-gentle blow job.

After literally two hours of foreplay, she climbed atop me and made very slow, very soft love, looking me straight in the eyes the whole time while I played with her magnificent breasts and/or she sucked on my fingers.

Every time she'd cum, just as when I'd orally brought her to climax, her whole body would flush very much like it had when I'd first told her she was sexy and beautiful that morning.

I came several times in her wet, warm pussy, lying there during rechargings listening to her tell me about Northern Europe in that sexy, mellifluous voice.

I walked her back the two blocks to where she was staying before her husband returned and we softly kissed good-bye.

I told her I'd be by the following morning for maid service, and with a sexy smile, she said, "My husband leaves at eight-sirty. I'll be vaiting for you."

Hers was the first unit I visited the next day at about 9 AM, and, as before, she was just getting out of the shower when I arrived. Only this time she did not bother with a towel at all, emerging from the bath and standing in glorious nudity in front of the A/C cooling off. I mentioned that I had another 19 units to clean, and she coolly received the message that I was pressed for time. So she kissed me and then dropped to her knees, pulled my shorts down, and gobbled my cock down while I pulled my shirt off and watched her.

I was only there a half an hour, mostly on the aptly-named love seat in the bay window where it was bright and I could drink in her beauty, but did manage to fuck her for a little while before we wound up in a 69 and she drank my cum for breakfast. Needing lots of foreplay, she did not orgasm—and didn't really seem to care—but I picked her up that afternoon after work and we went back to my nearby apartment for another marathon session.

So, for the rest of the week, we had a morning quickie in her unit right after her hubby left, then slow, protracted, and glorious sex every afternoon in my apartment, doing it in every conceivable position.

On our final afternoon, she was most grateful that I offered to keep their luggage at my place so they would not have to pay for another night, as check-out time was noon, his conference did not end until six, and they were flying out later that evening.

She had just given me a marathon BJ and swallowed what I'm sure wasn't anywhere near but certainly felt like half a cup of semen and were lying in an embrace on my bed when she said her husband--who I had yet to meet but soon would when he came to get their luggage--had really made love to her exceptionally well the night before.

That was a funny thing to bring up at the time, so I asked her why, and she calmly went on to say that she was sure he knew she and I were having sex. I asked her if she'd told him or something, and she said she hadn't, though she probably would someday, and that he'd said nothing. She said a person just senses when their lover has another.

Lucy was apparently not worried about a thing, and she said for me not to be concerned, that it had been good for everyone involved. In fact, I was worried about the possibility of the old jealousy-enraged-husband syndrome. You know, "Dutchman eviscerates student having sex with wife. Story at 10:00." Then, out of the blue, she said she had a younger sister who would be perfect for me, that she was prettier, my age, and with a stronger sex drive.

Well, I'll be damned! We have a torrid, week-long affair, her hubby knows about it, and now she wants me to boink her sister! Talk about not possessive!!! She was just coming from a totally different cultural perspective.

She goes back out to the living room and returns with a lit cigarette and her purse, standing by the window naked as a jay bird. My God, was she gorgeous! She fishes a thick stack of pictures out of her purse, saying she's looking for the nude ones.

I figured she was going to give me a little photo to remember her by, when she shrieks with glee and hands me one of her sister at the beach, smiling without a stitch of clothes, then another head-to-toe shot of them both naked, several more wide shots of them throwing Frisbee, and then more of them lying both face up and down and sitting on the beach--all completely nude, of course.

"Lissa's so much like you--active, outgoing, althletic, talkative, smart, and loves sex all the time. I'm sure she'll absolutely love you. You're perfect for each other! She trusts her big sister's judgement, and I'll tell her what a nice man your are, a great lover. You must come visit us soon. She lives nearby in Belgium, and you are both velcome to stay at our place for as long as you like. Just look at her; she's so much prettier than me, and she doesn't even have a boyfriend now."

Now I was not in love with Lucy, but I had grown rather fond of her and had massive sex with her daily for a week and was having a bit of trouble shifting gears to her sister for that reason.

I studied the photos. Lissa looked a lot like Lucy, both in face and body, but was slightly taller, a bit longer legged, with a slimmer waist, equal-size but even nipplier tits, thicker, longer brown hair both on her head and her bush, and a 21-year-old countenance.

It was a close call, but she appeared to be the better-looking of the two. Hard to believe, given Lucy's beauty, but her sister took a slight edge.

Lucy noticed my cock had risen to half mast, so she sat on the edge of the bed and sucked him up to full mast, then lay back, spread her legs real wide, and invited me in. It was 5:00 PM, and this would be our final chapter of sex together.

Then Lucy did the strangest thing. She reached over to the side table and got a photo, the solo shot of her sister standing nude on the beach, and held it in front of her face. From behind it she said, "I vant you to pretend you're making love to Lissa, and I'm going to play her as best I can. Here goes: Now jam sat big hard cock of yours in my pussy and fuck me good!"

Well, I'll be double-damned! Lucy held that photo of Lissa right over her face to block her own while assuming her sibling's more aggressive personality. Since their bodies looked so much alike and Lissa's picture was right in front of my eyes, it really was like fucking a whole new girl!

And you know what? As much as I'd enjoyed the week of sex with Lucy, this was the best yet, more forceful, direct, and vocal. Lucy knew her sister well, and also knew my style matched hers.

We fucked in every iteration of missionary before I rolled her sideways into spoons for a bit then on into full doggie, placing Lissa's photo between Lucy's shoulder blades while I banged that juicy pussy, her buns rippling in waves on every stroke until I really concentrated on Lissa's face as Lucy brought me over the edge with a dramatic, "Oh, I'm so thankful Lucy got us togeser. Now squirt your man-juice in me! I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm cumming."

And so I did, shooting my load into "Lissa" with a mind-bending orgasm as close as possible to the real, younger sister.

"See, I told you Lissa and you vere the perfect pair," Lucy said as she walked to the bathroom with cum streaming down her legs.

She was still in the bathroom when there was a loud knock at the door. That would be her husband. I jumped into clothes and answered. His name was Laval and he was enormous at about 6 feet 7 inches and probably 275 pounds. Moreover, he was not at all friendly.

Lucy emerged right away, though, looking all fresh and clean, and re-introduced us, and he was at least courteous if still far from amicable. There was a taxi he'd come in that was waiting downstairs, so I helped tote out their luggage and load it in the trunk.

Laval was looking at his watch a lot and said they had to catch a flight, so I shook his hand, and he did thank me for baby-sitting their bags to save them another night of lodging.

He slipped in the back of the cab, but Lucy just stood there with the back door open in his direct line of sight and, much to my surprise, gave me a big good-bye hug and wet kiss on the lips, saying, "Laval, I have found the perfect man for Lissa. They're going to come stay with us soon, and I sink they will live happily ever after!"

Laval smiled for the first time, and seemed to like this plan, and away they sped to the airport.

I wrote Lucy shortly thereafter, and she and Lissa wrote back in the same letter, freely talking about all the sex Lucy and I had, and they begging me to come visit.

That led to a series of letters just between me and Lissa, some of which included nude photos of her and even a few of her playing with herself. I sent her photos of me doing the same stuff, and all the letters had graphic descriptions of all the sexual stuff we planned to do.

That was before the days of the Internet, and long-distance phone calls to Europe were hideously expensive, so all our communication was by letter.

The letters and photos went back and forth across the Atlantic for about a year, but I was a poor new graduate and never made it across the pond to visit Lissa, and so the correspondence gradually tapered off and the long-distance relationship ended without our ever having met one another.

Maybe Lucy was right in pegging her sister and me as the perfect pair. I'll never know.