The family maid

CHAPTER SEVEN

Duke was drinking in The Midtown Bucket, a low life bar patronized by shrimpers and lobster fisherman and dock workers. This was the other side of the coin from the fashionable Bellevue Manson society, in a Jekyl and Hyde sort of city, where slums and fashionable segments of the social structure rubbed shoulders at lines of demarcation so well defined that they might have been marked out by lines down the center of the streets or road signs that said 'Ghetto' and pointed out the route with an arrow.

Duke was morose, knowing that he would not get another chance to crack Dolly's virginity for a whole week-that he would not even get a handjob from her, to take the pressure off. He was drinking shots, with beer chasers.

This was a rough bar. Two drunks were fighting in the back, rolling over and over on the filthy floor, biting and scratching. A bearded sailor with a sailor's beard-a loop of curly red hair without a moustache, like Captain Ahab-was vomiting on the bar. A fat girl had passed out on the pool table. Her dress had hiked up and her cunt was exposed. A game was in progress around her, and the players were banking balls off her big tits, caroming from her meaty thighs and jumping masse shots over her head.

An argument started.

One player had sunk the eight ball in her cunt and his opponent was claiming that a cunt was not technically a legal pocket, even though he had called the shot. The black ball was lodged securely in her hairy hole.

Duke watched this scene with mild interest, looking speculatively at her cunt. He was wondering if he might get his rocks off in that hairy hole. He didn't fancy her much, but he believed in the principle of any port in a storm.

One of the arguing players, a shrimper named Gus, asked Duke to arbitrate the dispute. The other player, who had sunk the eight ball in the cunt and whose name was Sam, agreed to arbitration.

Duke walked over to the table and plucked the black ball from the hairy pocket.

"The question is, is a cunt part of the game," he said. It was a tricky point. They should have clarified the rules before they started the game, he figured.

Awaiting Duke's decision, Sam began to stroke his cue stick up the girl's pussy. He formed a bridge with his hand and pushed several inches of stick in and out.

The girl stirred in her drunken slumber and her cunt began to get nice and juicy.

Duke said, "I think we ought to call it no contest."

Gus and Sam accepted this decision; they had both gotten interested in the cunt now-for its own sake, rather than as a part of the pool table.

Sam pulled his cue stick out of her crotch and leaned it against the wall; he opened his pants and hauled his own cue stick out-a sizeable brute of a pecker. He was grinning fiendishly. He took up the chalk and began to carefully chalk the head of his prick, so that he wouldn't miscue. Then he crawled onto the table and fitted the blue chalked head of his dick to the girl's cunt.

"Cock in the cunt, one bank off the thigh," he called.

He bounced his cockhead off her fat leg at just the right angle, and the meaty slab rolled up and dropped into her pussy.

Sam began to stroke the carnal cue stick in and out, steadily.

"No fucking on the pool table!" the bartender cried, but they ignored him.

Gus had his own dick out, now.

"Cockhead in the left cheek with a kiss off the tongue," he called, and he spilled the pork into the sleeping beauty's mouth without further ado.

Sam banged lustily away on her pussy and Gus slid his cock in and out of her mouth. The girl stirred and mumbled, starting to wake up. She began to breathe steadily, as if she were tooting on a flute.

Gus' dick slipped out of her mouth.

"Damn!" he said. "Miscued."

He chalked his cockhead and slipped it in again. The girl frowned; she didn't mind the dick but she didn't care for the taste of chalk.

Duke pulled his owner pecker out and laid the head on the edge of the table waiting for his turn.

"Gonna cheat on Dolly?" Sam asked.

"Ah, she's got a new job; I won't be seeing her for a week and I gotta unload my balls somewhere."

"That's true," Sam said, pushing his dick all the way up the fat girl's cunt, so that his balls rolled up the felt covered table and wedged into the crack of her ass.

"Unghhh!" he snorted; he shot in her cunt.

He pulled out. Cum and cunt juice ran from her snatch onto the felt. The bartender shouted in anger.

Gus blew thick spunk into her cheek, shifted and aimed a second spout down her throat. She mumbled, gulping it down in her sleep-a girl well accustomed to drinking scum and doing it by reflex. Duke crawled onto the table, prepared to sink his shot in the girl's quim.

"Where's Dolly working now, then? Out of town?"

Duke fitted his dick to the girl's pussy with concentration. Sometimes balls got stuck in machines, and he wanted to get it lined up straight so it wouldn't jam.

He said, "Naw, up on Bellevue."

"How come you can't see her, then?"

He shoved his dick straight into the pocket. "She's got to live in," he explained.

"Rich folk, eh?"

"Yeah. Wintergreens."

"Oh oh!"

"Why'd you say that?" Duke asked, pouring dick up the sleeping girl without much interest, just shooting a nonchalant game without anything at stake.

"Them Wintergreens are kinky," Sam said.

"How so?"

"Well, I knew a girl used to clean for them and she said they all fucked her. And I know their chauffeur, too, and he's always putting the pork to one of them. Real kinky. They're probably balling Dolly right now."

"Naw! Not Dolly."

"Can't tell."

"She's cherry."

"Yeah, but rich folk got ways to deal with that. They know how to seduce the lower classes."

Duke looked horrified.

"You think?" he said.

"I'd bet on it."

Duke lost interest in cue sticking the girl. He pulled his cock out and stuffed it back into his pants, wincing as he bent it to conform it to his trousers.

He said, "I think maybe I better take a run up there and make sure Dolly knows those rich folk are seducers."

"Good idea," Sam agreed.

Sam put his dick in the girl's mouth; Gus came down and stroked into her pussy. The bartender shouted in vain and two more drunks vomited on the bar. Duke walked out.

He didn't really think that virginal Dolly would fall for any seduction nonsense but he thought it might be just as well to warn her, just in case.

He'd waited so long to crack her cunt that it would have been a true tragedy to have someone else get in there first, he reckoned.

Jonathon Wintergreen had already been in there first. And second.

And now he was preparing to get in there third, as well, for he was so pleased by her trim little pussy that his dick was not showing the slightest sign of relenting, although he'd poured two considerable ball loads up her cunt. And although her belly was fairly awash with cum, Dolly was perfectly happy to have him fill her up again, for she was having so much fun in the lending of her cum bucket that she would have been quite content to carry on all day and all night.

She was even speculating whether there was any call for a lending library type business, whereby cocks in desperate straits could borrow her pussy, slipping it on like a glove and coming into it abundantly. Maybe she could issue cunt card, like library cards, and charge a fine if an orgasm was overdue She didn't think Duke would approve of that, however.

But coming was a thing that Dolly approved of more and more as she grew accustomed to the sensation. Up until that day, her orgasms had been limited to those caused by hands-her own or Duke's and now the randy but innocent girl was discovering that there were qualitative changes in climaxes, degrees of coming that went up and down a sliding scale just as a pecker slid in and out of mouth or cunt with variations-depending on its length. Thus, an orgasm derived from a nimble tongue on the clit was not the same as one caused by the stuffing of a fat dick, and one that sort of crept up unannounced, while a girl was sucking on a big pecker, was yet another thing.

Dolly was not judging these various orgasms as to desirability or thrill; she was simply defining them for their differences, rather than rating them And she saw that it was by far the best thing if a girl could experience all the different forms of coming, changing from one to the other, rather than getting stuck in the proverbial rut. In the Wintergreen house; that was possible.

Her lively imagination reached ahead.

She hoped that Claire Wintergreen would find it advisable to taste test her cunt at least once a week. She had been enlightened on that score and knew that the taste test was not valid in judging virginity. She knew she could brazen it out, maintaining her purity even as her pussy bubble over in Claire's hungry mouth. There was deception there, it was true, but more on Claire's part than on Dolly's.

Dolly felt a little guilty about letting a cunt starved woman suck her, off, but it had felt so wonderful that her guilt was a feeble barrier against her willingness. She also wondered if sexy, nubile young Amanda might not want a crack at her crack?

She wondered why those women liked to suck pussy. Dolly had always believed that was something that only pure lesbians did, and now, awakened to bi-sexuality, her curiosity was fired. She wondered what it would be like to mouth a cunt, and found the prospect exciting. If the situation arose-there would have to be some excuse, of course, but just in case… it was a fascinating thought!

She had a weekly blow job to give to the elder Wintergreen, and that was strictly in line with her duties, but ever so pleasant. Perhaps Jonathon, too, would need some head from time to time, since if his wife wouldn't fuck him she probably didn't blow him, either. So one way or the other, she had to get Jonathan's rocks off with a degree of regularity.

And if he were deceiving her? If his wife were not really denying him at all, but he had merely made that up as an excuse to have his way with Dolly? Well, the maid was not stupid and she saw that possibility. But she chose to ignore it. No matter what she knew or thought about the situation, as long as she pretended to believe his tale of need and frustration, her guilt could be handled.

On her day off she intended to let Duke fuck her; the days of her virginity were behind her.

So she planned her future as she took the present, in the form of Jonathon Wintergreen's massive prick, and half believed it was an act of kindness, rather than passion, despite the way her pussy melted.

The first two fucks had been on the leather couch. The first had been a standard man on top job, the second a modified missionary, in that he still mounted her from the top and face to face but kept his knees under him and lifted her crotch high to his thrust. The third time he took her standing, her back braced against the bookshelves while he dipped his knees and slithered his cock up her cunt with vertical strokes.

Now a fourth fuck seemed likely, for his big pecker was still rampant.

There was a polar bear rug before the fireplace, and Dolly was sitting on the rug, curled onto her flank, Her blouse and bra had somehow departed, in the course of their coupling, and she wore only a garter belt and stockings, and the little lace cap on her head. She was flushed with the pleasure of having been well fucked and quite ready to fuck some more.

Jonathon was stirring the fire with a poker, causing the embers to flare and cast pleasant warmth over the girl. He required a few moments of recovery time before he screwed her again, although his dick was still erect, and not wanting to let her know that he was flagging he pretended that the fire needed attention.

But Jonathon recovered fast. His balls seemed a never ending source of spunk, and his cock was adamant in its demands. Watching him now as he stirred the poker, in the fire, Dolly giggled. His dick looked like a poker, itself-a short poker, as pokers are measured, although plenty long on a peter meter. The knob was glowing bright red, either from internal heat or because it was jutting out close to the fireplace. It cast an oblong shadow up his torso as it blocked out the firelight. The firelight seemed to dance on his dick and his dick seemed to be toasting itself in the warmth.

Dolly giggled again, thinking of sticking marshmallows on the end of his prick and toasting them in the open fire, and licking the melted, gooey white substance off, too-licking and licking at the sticky white stuff until maybe some other sticky sauce might flow from his peckerhead and spice up the delicacy! She thought of shish kabobs and hot dogs with that white condiment flowing over them and her mouth watered. But it was an idle fancy; she wouldn't want to stick Jonathon's lovely cock in the fire and she was sure he wouldn't want her to.

But the idea inspired her.

Crawling across the white rug, the maid arched her neck up like a giraffe stretching for the delicate leaves at the top of a tree.

She slipped his dick into her mouth.

She began to lick and suck, her head going up and down. The warmth from the fire fell on her cheek, causing it to glow as if the big cockhead were illuminating her cheek like a light bulb in a lampshade. Her eyes narrowed and her lips curled up, turning up in a smile right around his cock as she realized that his father had been no novelty-that all dicks were tasty.

She fed it far back into her throat, gagging and gasping, and lovingly pulled her unpeeled lips back up the shaft. Jonathan humped his hips, fucking into her mouth.

His cock was so hot that it might indeed have been used to stir the embers of the fireplace, she thought, as her spit sizzled on the hot meat.

Jonathon stopped playing with the fire, now that he had her mouth to play with. He slid the poker back into the brass stand and slid his cock into her lips. Closing his fist around the hilt of his pecker, he began to move it in her mouth as if he were stirring embers on her tongue, creating air drafts in her cheeks, opening the vent of her throat. Falling in with this, the randy maid reached up and cupped his bloated balls, gently squeezing them, as if they were a bellows and she was blowing air up the thick spout, increasing the fire in her mouth.

He rested his other hand on her head-not forcing her, just tenderly caressing her curly head as he gazed down at her eagerly rising and falling face. Jonathon was infinitely pleased with the way the new maid was working out. She provided the best of both worlds-innocent but willing.

It suddenly occurred to Dolly that perhaps she was too willing; that she might have been too forward and brazen in taking his cock into her mouth without a request on his part. She pulled her lips from his knob with a little popping sound, like a cork from a bottle.

"Err… I guess your wife doesn't blow you, either, huh?"

Jonathon instantly saw that the girl was justifying herself and he said, "Never… she's too busy sucking pussy to ever take a dick in her mouth."

"Well, I guess I ought to then; huh?"

"I'd be grateful."

Dolly smiled. The justification complete, she fell to sucking once more. She seemed to have a natural talent for it-at least it seemed that way to her-for her mouth slid fluidly up and down without faltering; her teeth never got in the way; her tongue folded neat as could be against the underside of his cockhead. She gagged only slightly when the tip of his fat knob lodged in her gullet.

She was glad his wife didn't blow him.

She spoke with her mouth on his knob, saying the words one at a time and punctuating them with a bobbing of her head, so that the sentence was drawn out as if by a series of dashes between the words-the long dash of his dick.

"I… want… to… drink… your.. cum.."

She buried his cockhead in her throat between each word.

Her words excited Jonathon as much as her mouth did. He began to corkscrew his hips, fucking into her eager mouth. Her lips spread into a wide oval, containing his stalk like a taut collar; her cheeks pulled like velvet sleeves on his knob; her tongue worked like a flail along the throbbing vein; her hand squeezed his balls as if urging them to push the. spunk up his cock.

"Shoot… in.. my… mouth…" she whimpered.

Jonathon held her head in both hands, fucking her mouth with sharp jolts. Her eyes crossed, looking in at his fat stalk as it disappeared from her vision into her maw. Her cheeks grew hollow as she sucked and pushed out. She blew; her lips turned inside out as they pulled up the shaft.

Jonathon suddenly rammed his dick in, pulling her pretty face tight to his belly so that the whole length of his big cock went into her gullet and her nose was pressed to his pubic mound, her chin jammed to his scrotum.

His cockhead slithered down her throat and spilled its hot cream beyond her mouth. It ran down into her belly, warming her like fine brandy.

But it was a disappointment to the girl, for he had come beyond her tastebuds and she had missed out on the rare succulence of his spunk. She pulled her face back so that only his cockhead was in her mouth; she sucked, dragging a second spurt from him. This creamy wad fell directly on her tongue.

"Ahhhh," she sighed, savoring it, then threw back her head and swallowed happily.

She sucked and licked until she was sure that she had pulled every precious drop from him.

His knees had gone weak, his strength sucked out along with his scum; he sank down beside her on the rug. Dolly curled up against him, holding his dick in her hand. It had started to soften, but she rubbed it a bit and it hovered there in no man's land-halfway between an erect and dormant state.

She figured she could get one more fuck out of that joystick before it was spent, but she didn't want to rush things and, stroking his semi hard pecker lovingly, she gazed into the dancing flames of the fireplace. It occurred to her that she had other duties as a maid; that her whole job of work was not limited to the milking of cocks and the providing of pussy.

She said, "I'll have to clear the fireplace… later. It's full of ashes."

"You needn't bother with that," he said.

Dolly flashed him a lovely smile.

"I don't mind hauling your ashes," she said.

"Ah," said Jonathon Wintergreen, and he thought that having a maid was a lot more work than not having, a maid. But Jonathon had never been afraid of hard work, as long as he had the proper, hard tools to do it. His dick began to grow again.