Household Chores

by maryjane

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Blackmail, Lesbian, BiSexual, DomSub, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Water Sports, Scatology, .

Desc: Sex Story: Maria and Miguel are illegal immigrants. Their employers, the bitch and the fat slob, abuse them terribly. Maria and Miguel get even.

"Wake up, Maria. Rise and shine."

The bitch seems happy enough today, I thought as I rolled over. Maybe her husband had given her a good fucking last night and I wouldn't have to eat that smelly cunt for another day. I opened my eyes and saw her, dressed only in a camisole and bikini panties. Oh, shit, she's horny; that's the costume she wears when she wants me to munch on her carpet. But that's really just an expression, because she kept her pussy carpet clean shaven.

"I've got to pee, Mrs." I jumped out of bed and ran for the bathroom. Having my own bathroom was a luxury I never had until I crossed the border and got this job. Back home there were eight of us sharing a bath; I would have to close my eyes on the toilet whenever one of my brothers was busy jerking off into the sink. Or into my face.

I stared at my body as I listened to the water splashing into the bowl. Sleeping nude was another luxury I adopted in this country, but I still couldn't figure why they put mirrors in bathrooms where women could watch themselves on the toilet, even men sometimes.

My body is not too bad looking; in fact, it's damn good looking. Fucking good looking! My father and my four brothers could attest to that. I could never understand how my mother let them get away with all that shit they did to me. I left home for the States when I was barely 16 because I was afraid that one of them would sooner or later knock me up. A baby would ruin this figure. Mama was too dumb to give a damn.

When I finished peeing, I didn't get up so fast. I just sat there and spread my pussy lips, watching my little man in the boat stand up. I gave him a little rub to get him started; that would hopefully assure that the bitch would make me cum. When I got up, I looked over my body in the mirror again, thinking that it was trim enough to get me another job, one where I would have to put out only once in a while instead of nearly every day. I'm a damn good housekeeper and there are a lot of rich gringos who can afford talent like me. And pussy like me.

I smiled to myself as I slowly brushed my teeth and washed up; the bitch could wait for me, as she always did, sitting on my bed in her fuck clothes. She's really not bad looking at all; 5' 3", 110 pounds, 34B tits, I did enjoy making love with her. It's just when I had to go down on her that I couldn't stand it. Why the fuck didn't she buy some sweet pussy spray? It smelled like she rubbed dead fish on her snatch every morning.

Her husband must be the one with the money, because he's a fat slob with a teeny little dick. Even when I swallow it, it doesn't get over six inches. And I barely feel it when he shoves it in my ass; of course, that may be because of all the stretching from Poppy and the boys. I didn't mind that part, once I had gotten used to it, because you can't get pregnant through the asshole. Only that was over a year ago.

"Hurry up, Maria, I'm horny. And Mr. Jones wants a shower and a quickie before he leaves for the golf course."

Oh, shit! I knew, I just knew that neither of them would make me cum today, at least not until the evening. It would just be up to Miguel, the chauffeur, to take care of me, which really wasn't so bad, but it meant I would have to go out in the heat to his room over the garage. I hate to fuck where there's no air conditioning; these gringos have spoiled me.

I opened the door and went back into the bedroom. The bitch stood up and pulled the camisole over her head; her tits were beautiful and my pussy began to leak. But I couldn't stand her smell.

"Please, Mrs., can I go back to bed? I'm so tired from the party last night."

She gave me that school teacher look and tone that I've grown to hate. "Now, now, Maria, you know that if we don't have your cooperation, we'll just have to call the Immigration people. Now you wouldn't want that, would you? You and Miguel?"

That cunt! I wanted to kill her.

"But if you're tired, we can do it lying down this morning. And I need you wide awake to give Mr. Jones his shower, only he doesn't have a lot of time, so let's get started."

I hated days like this. First I was going to have to eat that smelly cunt, and then I was going to have to give Mr. a shower, like he was a baby, and then probably blow him. Well, the blow job wasn't so bad, except that my hair would get all wet, and the bitch screams when I spend too much time drying it. What my real hope is is that I somehow can catch them cheating the IRS and then they can't threaten me with Immigration. Either that or get another job and move out without notice, except the notice they get when they go looking for the bitch's jewelry.

Mrs. took off her panties and stretched out on my bed. Shit, I'm going to have to change the sheets to get rid of her smell. Her legs were spread and hung over the foot of the bed, so that I wouldn't get to lie down after all, I would have to kneel between her legs while I ate her. Let's see if she'll go along with a sixty-nine.

"No, no, Maria, we have no time to eat you this morning. Mr. Jones is waiting."

Oh, fuck him! I took a deep breath and dove in between the bitch's legs, my mouth and tongue working fast. Funny how she could smell so bad and taste so good. "Mmff, mmff, mmff."

"Do you like to eat me, my little muff diver?"

"Yes, Mrs." Yeah, right. Another deep breath and I went back in, sucking her clit and using two fingers to saw her cunt. She was soaking wet, as usual. I knew she got off on the slurping sound I make as I suck her juices, but I do it anyway; it tastes so good. When I do it, though, it makes re realize that the smell isn't THAT bad, it's just that I hate her so much.

Sometimes, but not too often, she makes me wish that I was back at home. There my father and my brothers fucked me all the time, but they never abused me or insulted me. I was the cream of the pussy crop in the house, and they must have been afraid that I would shut out any of them who insulted me. I never thought about it then, I was just too afraid. They also fucked my mother and sister, but they were too gentlemanly, if you can imagine that, to make two or three of us put on a show for them. But this bitch is going to be punished, somehow.

My fingers got her g-spot and she raised herself on her elbows, screaming as usual, "YES, YES, YES." The juices were pouring out of her as she collapsed back on the bed; I drank down as much as I could. I picked up my head. Maybe I could go take care of her fucking husband and then go get some work done. I hate a filthy house; these people are lucky to have me.

"Get your head back there, slut, I have to piss." Oh, shit, I knew that if I didn't swallow most of it, she'd slap me around again. I opened my mouth to receive a warm stream of her yellow salty waste water; my lips made a tight seal around her slit. She had taught me that, ordered me to do it that way, not caring that it's impossible to swallow with an open mouth.

"Did that taste good, slut?"

"Yes, Mrs." I can't wait for the day when I sit on her face and piss down her throat. Or worse. Useless cunt! I wanted to puke in her face.

"Good. Now suck my nipples and then go take care of my husband so he can go out to play."

"Yes, Mrs." What the hell, sucking her nipples wasn't bad at all. They were nice and firm, standing at attention for my lips, rippled as though they had been soaking in water.

"Mmm, mmm, that's nice; now go, Maria, before he gets mad at me for taking so long."

Well, well, that was nice to know, that Mr. could get mad at Mrs. Someday that might be useful.

I walked naked down the hall to the master suite, the bitch following me back so that she could get dressed. I wiggled my rear at her, just for the hell of it.

"You have a beautiful ass, Maria. I can see why my husband loves to fuck it."

I looked back over my shoulder and smiled. No harm in keeping her friendly. When we got to the suite, I headed toward the bathroom while she turned toward her closet. The bathroom door was closed, but I was expected to walk in without knocking. I didn't expect to find the fat slob sitting on the toilet dumping a load. Ugh! Someday I was going to dump one in his face. And hers.

He didn't even look at me as he wiped himself, flushed and said, "Turn on the shower." When the water was just right, he walked in to the shower stall and turned all around, getting himself wet. It was a ritual; very few words were needed. I followed him into the shower and watched him take hold of his cock and aim his piss at my pussy, per usual. How he was able to piss after just taking a dump was beyond me, but somehow he did it. At least he didn't expect me to drink it down the way the bitch did.

When he was finished, I took the sponge and soaped it up, then began to clean his chest and stomach. He liked me to suck his nipples as I did that, and I quickly grew to hate the taste of the soap. Then he turned around and I washed his back, down to the waist. Next I went down on one knee to wash his legs, from behind, as he insisted. After that, I washed his ass with the sponge.

"Clean my asshole, Maria."

"I just did that, Sir."

"I meant with your tongue, cunt."

He was a no good bastard, just like his wife. The disgusting pig just wanted to humiliate me, but I had no choice. I dropped the sponge and spread his ass cheeks with my fingers, so that with my head turned sideways, my tongue could get in there. Good thing I had already cleaned that spot; when he makes me tongue him before I wash him there, I always have to throw up.

He moaned a little bit and then turned around to face me, taking his cock in his hand and using it to slap my face. I picked up the sponge, soaped it again and began to work on his groin, washing each ball separately and then the cock, jerking slowly as expected.

His hand touched my gently on the head, the signal to me to stop jerking and start sucking. Here there was to be no delay; he didn't want a professional blow job, he just wanted me to suck like a vacuum cleaner. He's a queer duck; a sexual maniac who was in a hurry to get to his golf course to make more deals. As I sucked, he moved his body around, with me following on my knees on the slippery tile floor, so that his back was to the shower head, his body protecting my face from the pouring water. There was a method to his madness.

He touched my head again; this time the signal meant that he was ready to cum, that he wanted me to take my mouth off him and jerk his cock until his cum shot onto my face, his disgusting display of power over me. He pissed again, where it all came from I don't know, this time to wash the creamy goo off my face. The first time he had done it, it was without warning, and my eyes were open, not aware that they were about to be washed with piss. It really stung; I hate that fucker.

The bitch was in the bathroom watching that last part, making sure that I didn't use the same towel on my face and on the slob's body. When I started to dry his groin, he grabbed my head, shoved his cock in my mouth again and pissed the last few drops.

"Just a little something to wet your whistle, Maria."

"Thank you, Sir."

The bitch spoke. "We'll be running a bunch of errands today, Maria. Miguel won't be back until three. You can go to your lover then, provided your chores are finished."

"Can't I please stay with Miguel in his room, Mrs.?"

"No. I've told you before that you have to sleep in this house in case we need you in the middle of the night, or like this morning."

Bitch! I'd rather live with Miguel, even with no air conditioning, than with these two fucks.

With Miguel driving them around all day, I wasn't going to cum until late afternoon, not unless I did it for myself. At which I was pretty adept. But today I had just made other plans. Throwing on a housecoat, I fairly flew through my chores, skipping the ones I thought the bitch wouldn't see. By one o'clock, I had done as much as I intended for the day.

The day before, I had heard the slob on the phone while I was dusting in the den. Like so many of those gringo pigs, they talk without noticing the hired help, especially the ones they're fucking and abusing, as though we're not there or that we don't understand English. 'Remember, Joe, I want it all in cash, no check. There's no sense in letting Uncle Sam share in my cut.'

I had never gone through the desk drawers in the den before, but I knew that there had to be something incriminating there, some reference to them cheating on their taxes, maybe even some of that cash. I didn't know what I was looking for, was worried that I might not recognize it when I found it. But it took me only thirty seconds to find it.

The problem was that what I found was a double drawer, locked. The other drawers opened easily, and in ten minutes, I had concluded that there was nothing useful in them. Especially not a key. If there was anything, it had to be in the locked drawer. He had no office, doing all of his business from home. I went back and finished the chores I had by-passed.

The bitch and the fat slob didn't come back until almost four. I stood at the door waiting for them, wearing a freshly starched uniform. They nodded at me without a sound, and I waited while the bitch examined the house.

"OK, Maria, good job. Now you can go get laid. Be back by six; we're having company for dinner at seven, and you're going to be the dessert for the man."

I knew that they were laughing at me as I ran across the courtyard to the garage, but I didn't care. My uniform was soaked with perspiration from the heat outside, but I didn't care. My Miguel was waiting upstairs for me, and that I cared about. He had seen me running and he held the door open for me. He stood behind it, for he was already naked, his big, beautiful cock standing at attention, ready to please me and to be pleased. His muscles rippled; I was wet.

I ran into his arms and began to smother him with kisses.

"Hey, hey, my darling, slow down. Why are you so excited?"

"I will tell you, my dear Miguel, but first you must make love with me."

I threw myself on his bed, inviting him to do the work of undressing me. He began with the front buttons on my uniform, exposing my bra. He reached behind me to unbuckle it and began to suck on my breasts. I stroked his cock as he made love to my nipples. I lifted my body again so that he could get my uniform off; with any luck, I could wear it that night without ironing it.

Instead of pulling my panties off, Miguel began to slide his fingers under the leg band, searching tentatively for my wet pussy lips as though it was a first date. The novelty of that approach was tender, and when his fingers were inside me, I clamped my legs around his hand so that he couldn't withdraw. He laughed and we kissed.

"Bring me that beautiful cock up here, Miguel; I need to taste you."

Such a dear obedient man. I held his throbbing love muscle close to my face, giving it tiny kisses all over, marveling at the exquisite pleasures it gave me when it touched me, anywhere. Papa and my brothers had taught me that cocks can give a lot of pain, but gradually they also helped me learn that a cock can be a girl's best friend. Even the fat slob's, sometimes. Yet no cock can please me as much as Miguel's, for it brings with it his love.

I licked off a little drop of moisture from his slit, reminding myself with a smile that from that slit I receive only cum, sweet and delicious sperm, never the piss of those pigs. And the thought of them spurred my body on, to make love with Miguel, to have him shoot off inside me, so that I could tell him of my plan.

My lips wrapped around his cock, my hand caressed the sac beneath. One finger, one sharp nail-the bitch said long nails made her husband hard, so long as I didn't leave any marks on him-that nail traced between Miguel's ass cheeks and tickled his back door. But my nails were too sharp to probe inside him, for fear of injuring my dear lover.

My sucking continued only long enough for him to be wet. This day Miguel's cum was destined for my cunt, not my mouth. A blow job is just sex; a gentle fucking is making love. And my dear lover fucks so gently. I yanked my panties down without ceremony; one leg hole caught on my foot and I had to struggle with it. Miguel smiled but knew better than to laugh. His smile soon turned into a serious face, that look that says all the man wants to do is to enter his beloved's body to show how much he loves her.

He was on top of my body, inside me, kissing me, fondling my breasts, stroking my pink lower lips, pumping away, pounding, pounding-I was reminded of my childhood, watching a Woody Woodpecker cartoon on our small, second-hand television set-pounding, thrusting, yelling his love for me-"Te amo, mi vida; te amo"-making me moan as he brought me ever closer to the greatest orgasm of my life, the greatest because every time we make love it is the greatest ever. My scream was muffled by his lips pressing on mine, but he could feel my contractions, could feel my juices pouring out as I felt his cum throbbing inside me, washing the walls of my pussy.

After a few minutes of peaceful relaxation, his cock was again at my mouth, not for a blow job but for a cleansing of our mixed wetness. And once I had licked him clean, like a cat, and dried his with my lips, he moved his head between my legs and began that wonderful after-play with his tongue. He licked the wetness running down my thighs toward my ass, then moved his mouth up to take back his cum, to make my now creamy white lips pink again. Finally, his mouth clamped on my clit and he began to suck, without respite, until the pounding of my fists on his head told him that I had cum again. And again. And again.

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