The Housekeeper And The Chauffeur

By | October 17, 2008

The garage was red brick. The gravel crunched under Mary’s feet as she approached the heavy wooden doors. They were painted dark red, almost brown and like the rest of the house attempted to look much older than they actually were.

She looked into the garage through the crack between the garage doors and saw the chauffer, dressed in his breeches and braces, shirt sleeves rolled up, bending under the bonnet of the Rolls. He emerged, face smudged with grime, oilcan and rag in hand.

Mary felt herself breathing heavily at the sight of his muscular arms and silhouetted, strong-jawed face. The door at the rear of the garage opened and the housekeeper walked in. the Chauffer and the housekeeper, Jane, exchanged pleasantries, he continued with his work on the car’s engine.

The housekeeper it seemed had only just begun hers. Mary watched Jane’s hands come to rest on the chauffeur’s firm buttocks, then slip around his waist onto his stomach. Mary felt an unmistakeable stirring beneath her heavy dress and wished her corsets weren’t so tight. She felt imprisoned and wanted to delve into the hot moistness that was bursting out from between her legs.

Jane’s hands drifted further down and found a bulge in his trousers. He was enjoying the attention Jane was giving his trouser bulge. He dropped the oil can and left the engine to its own devices.

He turned and faced her, his hands too grimy to touch Jane, he allowed her to caress him. She pushed him against the wheel and slowly undid his fly buttons one by one, fixing him in the eye with a lustful stare as she did so.

Once she had gained access to it the bulge in his trousers was coaxed out, the stiff, vivacious member pointing skyward. Jane grasped it, leaning forward to kiss the chauffer full on the lips, slowly, longingly.

She crouched in from of him and blew gently on the end of his oozing cock. Mary felt herself emit a small gasp of excitement. She feared herself discovered when Jane paused for a moment, but that was only for effect, to tease the chauffer. Her tongue flicked out and began to slurp the dewy precum from his glans.

He shook with each stroke of her tongue and it seemed to Mary as if he were being struck with a leather whip so violent was the arching of his back. “That’s just in your head.” Mary thought to herself, “Just in that dark place in your head were you have imagined having him drive you into the country, tie him to a tree and striking his buttocks with a leather whip. Over and over and …”

Jane was grasping his cock firmly, moving the skin up and down. His shiny head appearing and disappearing from view beneath his foreskin. Jane licked him again, then took him into her mouth, this time leaving him wet with her saliva. His eyes were closed, head back. Mary could see he was about to cum. She wanted to rush inside and leap on that cock, devour it and consume its spurting semen. Yet at the same time she was intensely aroused by her voyeuristic perspective and relished the soaking wetness that now bathed her cunt.

The slightest of movements was enough to rub her swollen labia together and remind her of the treat she could give her self when Jane and chauffer were done.

Jane slowed her stroked postponing the final moment. The chauffer quaked, his hips now thrusting into the ersatz vagina formed by her hand. His cum erupted slowly despite his lust, one, two, three, four, five voluminous globs hopping from his cock and landing on Jane’s hand and wrist. She milked his cock for a full minute ensuring he was spent.

As he and Mary watched from their different vantage points Jane stood in front of him and slowly liked the sticky white fluid from her hand, swallowing every morsel and liking her lips slowly until she had consumed every drop.

Mary made her way, as quietly and discretely as her need to attend to her pussy would allow, back to her room.