Sissy Maid Blackmail! - Sex Stories

Sissy Maid Blackmail!

... I had no girl. My ex had just left me, and although I was getting a lot of first dates, I wasn't getting much more. You see...I have...a big cock. It's about 9 inches, and thick as a Coke can. I know what you're thinking, "Gee, I wish I had that problem!" But let me tell you...even though it's better than the opposite problem, it's difficult finding a girl who'll fuck it. Really, really fuck it. My ex was physically built to accommodate it, and we had a fulfilling sex life up to a point. Women like her were very hard to come by.

We broke up, because - according to her - I'm a misogynist and a bit of a homophobe. Give me a fucking break. I like to talk dirty during sex. I make the occasional homophobic slur during road rage incidents. Whatever. I think what really happened is that I wanted anal and kinkier sex - whips, chains, piss...I just wanted to cross that stuff off my bucket list...and she wasn't into it. Maybe I pressured her too much. She left me for some nerdy-looking, fucking book reader.

So there I was, at home late on a Saturday night, drowning my sorrows after getting tossed out of a date's apartment. We were going for it, and I pulled my rod out. "No WAY am I putting that THING inside me!" I got pissed...we were so close... I asked for a blowjob. (I was drunk, and maybe "demanded" is a better way to put it.) She told me to take a fucking hike. I guess I have to work on my delivery.

I was pounding away my beer, and starting to stroke myself, and I heard ...

... music turn on upstairs. Then I heard someone dancing...in high heels...Now...that's a very distinct sound. Sometimes men's shoes can sound like that of course...but it really sounded like someone was sauntering around in heels...Did Ashton get lucky? Was there a chick up there? I didn't hear an accompanying pair of footsteps. Click click click...

Normally, I try to be cool when it comes to noise complaints, but it was late, I was smashed, and extremely frustrated. I just wanted to beat off and go to bed. I debated pounding on the ceiling - which would've worked - but I decided to go up instead. Good neighbor, y'know.

The music was pounding. Some 90's techno beat with a sexy voice taunting and challenging the listener, "...suckin' on my titties like you wanna be callin' me all the time..."

I was steaming as I reached his door. The beer had made me surly, and I was ready to be aggressive. Normally, I didn't have to be. I'm 6'5, and built like a linebacker. I can stare at a motherfucker, and they're going to back down. On this occasion though, I felt adding a little intensity into the conversation would solve this problem once and for all.

Gripping my beer bottle, I was about to knock on the door when a breeze seemed to blow it open a little. The aperture was wide enough that I got a decent look inside, and what I saw rooted me to the spot.

There, in Ashton's living room, was an extremely hot chick in a tight maid's uniform, sinuously writhing to the music.

I ...