Once upon a time... All good stories should start that way don't you think? Once upon a time, there was a fine maid. Fair of face and stunningly brunette, the type of maid that made others smile when they saw her. She was friendly and outgoing, a pillar of the community. But deep inside, under the conservative dress and the unassuming front she put forward, there was a minx with a wild streak that few knew about and even fewer were able to bring out in her. She would deny it, if asked; hiding it away to be brought out only when it could be contained no longer.
It was a lovely spring day. The sun shone brightly in a clear, azure sky. There was a gentle breeze blowing and the trill of birds carried in the clear air. Our maid was up early, preparing to dress for the day. Her skin was still damp and naked from her bath as she walked into her dressing room. Pausing by her mirror, she stole a moment to glance at her body. Her breasts were firm, the nipples on them hard in the cool morning air. Her stomach had a nice curve leading down towards her feminine treasure, lightly covered in hair. She turned this way and that, admiring herself in the mirror, her hands absently touching her body, eliciting little sparks of excitement. As her hand crossed her breast, her nipple hardened a little more, and her hand was drawn towards it, squeezing the firm flesh of her breast and pinching the bud. A shock passed through her, erotic and sensual, leaving a tingle behind that could not be ignored. Her hand moved towards her hip while she continued to play with her breast. She was torn between the urge to fling herself onto her bed and to continue touching herself slowly, gently. She could feel herself getting wet as her hand inched towards her sex, curling the hairs about her finger, slowly sliding a fingertip over her budding desire and gasping slightly at the sensation.
At once she felt her knees weaken as her finger was drenched with her essence, making the sensations even more delicious as her finger slid over her erect bud, contained by her puffy lips. She moaned slightly as the feelings washed over her and any pretense was swept away with another wave of pleasure.
Our fair maid gave way to that wild streak inside her and flung herself on her bed, reaching into the bedside table drawer for a piece of hand blown glass, smooth and cool and hard and thick, the right size for the pleasure her body demanded. With no preliminaries, she ran the cool head of the toy between her wet lips and with a single thrust pushed it into her void, crying out with lust as it touched that place deep inside her. With another deep sigh she pinched her nipple almost to the point of pain and began stroking the glass phallus in and out of her body, each thrust harder than the last, each withdrawal more wet until it would seem she would float away on the lubrication alone. Her clit ached to be touched but for now she denied herself that pleasure, saving it instead for the penultimate moment.
Her legs were spread, one might say lewdly, her entire sex on display to any who might see it, and that too gave her a certain thrill. Her muscles clenched and released the invader between her legs and it was now time. She willingly gave up squeezing her nipple to attack her clot, pressing and running it as the first waves of he orgasm crashed over her, squeezing the fake cock hard and triggering another flood of passion and lust to pour through her and bump up the feelings further. She cried out as the last peak consumed her and she clamped down one final time, her muscles held tight as the orgasm passed through her, leaving her momentarily spent on the bed.
Her muscles relaxed all at once and she gasped for air, her sex still contracting around the glass filling her but not fully satisfying her. No, for satisfaction she needed more and today was the day to seek that sort of satisfaction. Today she would let her wild side loose for just a while, let it lead her where it would and enjoy the pleasure it brought. With a final sigh and a wet slurp she pulled the glass free, instantly desiring a replacement as her passion flared again.
"Soon," she whispered to herself as she sat up. "Soon. But first we must be appropriately dressed."
With the decision made she moved to her armoire and began to select, from her most alluring of garments the clothes she would cover her body with.
Meanwhile, across town...
Our hero was starting his day. Not the sort of man you would expect to be a hero. He was broad of shoulder and narrow of waist, but he was not heavily muscled, or tall and striking in any particular way. He was an everyman, capable but not outstanding, the sort of person you might glance at and then quickly forget as he passed out of sight and out of memory. This was not to say that he was not memorable. Quite the opposite, if one were lucky enough to engage him in conversation or utilize his services, one would discover a quick mind, capable of discussing the details of the day, argue the policy issues facing the nation, or just having an intelligent conversation. He was a darling to have at cocktail parties, but he was not the sort that was regularly invited to such things, which did not bother him in the least.
He began his day as he normally did, sitting at the small kitchen table, his newspaper open while he buttered his toast. His shirt was open and his pants were loose. Next to his newspaper was a small notebook and pen and he would occasionally make a note about an article he was reading. His small kitchen was cramped, but he did not seem to mind; it suited his meager needs. Today however, he could not keep his thoughts on his reading. They kept drifting to the party the night before. He had been invited by the host, an old friend of his, to attend and it had been a lavish affair, attended by the beautiful and the rich and he had made several good introductions that would enable him to continue to put food on his table for several months to come if they all came to fruition.
But it was not business that was distracting him. The evening had been a sea of beautiful women, several of which caught his fancy, despite not looking at him twice. Their elegant gowns, fairly bursting with their curves and contours had left him in a state most of the evening. He had stumbled on a couple in the midst of a serious coupling in one of the anterooms. She was bent over a settee and he was thrusting into her from behind with enthusiasm, his hands fondling her firm tits. The image had burned itself on his memory and left him hard most of the night. In his dreams, he was feeding her his erect pogo and she was sucking it while being fucked from behind. He had awoken from this dream in a flush, his erection hard and in need of attention. He had closed his eyes, recalling the images he had seen and dream he had experienced while he had slowly stroked his shaft.
Once again he was in the room and the lady had opened her mouth and sucked the head of his cock into her warm, wet mouth, one hand gripping the base and massaging it while her mouth alternated between sucking him and licking him, her movements dictated by the thrusting she was receiving from the other man. He was so worked up that it took only a few moments before he was spending, spurts of his essence landing as high as his chest as he slowed his pumping action and the last of his orgasm flowed out. His breathing was ragged as the pleasure passed through him.
But now, as he finished his toast, he found himself thinking about the lovely ladies he had witnessed and wondering what it would be like to bed one or two or three of them, to feel their soft skin beneath his hands, or suck on their turgid nipples. It was going to be one of those days he feared as he gathered up his book and paper and put the plate on the counter before he moved into his bedroom to dress for the day.
The sun was shining brightly from a clear blue sky as he stepped out onto the front step of his building. On the sidewalk in front of him, resplendent in brilliant colours and light fabrics was a parade of women going about their day's labour; governesses pushing prams, maids going about tasks for their mistresses and the ladies themselves talking with each other, completely ignorant to his yearning gaze as he watched them promenade to and fro. He was fascinated with swell of breast, covered in most cases with a bit of cloth, held together with a button or two or one solid piece, but with the single purpose of making the woman look demure and not inflame the fires of the male libido. Sadly, it had the opposite effect as our hero stood on his step and slowly undressed a number of these women in his mind, tossing up their skirts and pushing his erect pego into their soft, wet quims over and over until they climaxed together, collapsing on the object he had bent her over; the pram, a step, the door way of a hansom cab. It did not matter to him. All of these thoughts crossed his mind as he attempted to school his face into something resembling respectable and calm his burning lust before he stepped down the short stairs to the street and joined the flow heading towards the city centre and his first assignment of the day.
.... There is more of this story ...