My Housekeeper - Sex Stories

My Housekeeper

... into a calm.

After some cooling down, with no verbal communication, I heard him get up, dress and leave. She released me from my shackles and had me lie on the bed, half sitting, against the pillows. I was still blindfolded and still wore the wig. She maneuvered herself into a sixty-nine position and pushed her just-fucked, cum-filled pussy into my face. She said not a word. I knew what she wanted. What she expected. But she said it anyway.

"Worship my pussy, slave girl!" The sarcasm was not lost on me.

I began licking, slurping and sucking on her pussy. She leaned forward, took my cock in her hand and began sucking me. Boy, is she an expert in the art of getting a man off, I mused to myself. She sucked my cock, my balls. She jerked me off, fast then slow, and added whatever lubrication was needed with a healthy addition of saliva. I savored those sensations as I licked her pussy - pungent, tasting of sex, gooey.

"You're my cum slut. Tell me you are."

"I'm your cum slut, Mistress Rita." Then I repeated it. "I'm your cum slut."

She kept rubbing my cock and finally spoke.

"My ass. Lick my ass hole. You're my slave and I want you to lick my ass hole."

She repositioned herself to place her ass over my mouth and nose. I'd gone this far and figured it would be silly to cower now. I found her ass hole with my tongue and treated her to the best rim job I could muster. It was clean and sexy. I realized she must have prepared for the occasion and arrived clean ...

... and even spritzed with pheromones. I gave it all I had. And I'm pretty sure she was attending to my erection with all she had. I shuddered, convulsed and came with my entire body. She sucked every drop of my cum into her mouth and kept me there for the longest time, time enough for me to lose my hard-on and descend from my orgasmic high.

Unhurriedly, she climbed off of me and instructed me to count to 500 before I could take off the blindfold and wig. I could tell she was gathering her things as I began the counting. 1, 2, 3, 4. I lay there, half-heartedly counting away. I had a conversation with myself.

"You fucking loser," I thought to myself. "And Rita was right when she called me a kinky mother fucker. Here you're trying to find help to manage your household. To do all the manual labor around the place. Work you're trying to avoid. You end up doing all the housekeeping by yourself while you're paying some gal who's using you as a sex slave for her and her boyfriend. Smooth move, you idiot. Perverted, obsessed, kinky mother fucker," I chided myself.

I'd lost track of my counting. I didn't care. I rolled out of bed and tore off the maid's uniform, I pulled off the blindfold and wig and threw them toward the suitcase. I put on a robe and made my way upstairs. Rita was gone. I went to the counter where I'd left her check - a generous one with a healthy bonus for getting laid last time. The check was torn in half. A prepared card lay there. Along with the key to my ...