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.
Our maid took another look at herself in the mirror, admiring her selection of clothing. Her corset sat in such a way that it elevated her pert breast, her nipples just peeking over the edge and being gently stimulated enough to remain hard and sensitive. Over that, she had placed a jacket that buttoned to just above her cleavage leaving the creamy skin of her upper chest and neck scandalous exposed. For her skirt, she had selected something loose that fell across her bare ass in such a way as to highlight the complete lack of under things while the motion of the silk over her naked skin was like a gentle lover's kiss and further helped inflame her passionate streak. She had placed some rouge on both her cheek and lips and, taking up a hat from her table, declared herself ready to venture out in search of that which would scratch the itch deep inside of her.
Using the back stairs, and the garden gate, she let herself out of the estate and merged with the flow of people traveling here and there. She paid little mind to those around her, letting herself move with the crowd for now, her body enjoying the motion of silk on skin and her naked thighs rubbing against each other and the slight draft that would occasionally wash across her wet sex, cooling it and inflaming it in one gentle breath, making her shiver at the feeling of it. As she walked, she was sure that several of the men who passed her hand deliberately run their hand over her ass, further exciting her without their knowledge of their impact. Rather than show a pained face, she simply smiled at those who tipped their cap to her before moving on. Such a wanton woman she was, enticing these men to touch her and excite her while out in public. It would cause a scandal if she let them take her as was their will, and she was certainly willing to let them touch her, or more.
She stepped out of the flow of people into a small park and walked along the shady path, the lust in her body again at such a level that her nipples were creating small bumps of their own in her light jacket, her essence moistening the inside of her thighs, her clit demanding a touch. Looking around and seeing no one coming in either direction, she slipped a hand quickly under her jacket and squeezed her nipple, eliciting a moan from her as the pleasure rocked her.
"Are you all right, miss," our hero asks, having come upon the maid. He had noticed her pull her hand from under her jacket and push a small curl back over her ear as she pulled herself together and turned to look at him.
"I am, quite well," she replied, a slight hitch in her voice as she looked into the eyes of our hero. "Well, perhaps not well, but not unwell," she added, her stomach fluttering and almost willing him to ravish her on the spot, his cock clearly outlined in his britches and the sort of rod she had been seeking.
"Well but not unwell? A curious turn of phrase my dear if I may so comment. And may I aid such a lovely lady become fully well?" He asked, trying hard to stay focused on the maid's hazel eyes and not her other charms, despite his urgent desire to see them all.
"Well, sir," she said, a small smile at the use of word and a giggle, "I am hale and hearty, but lacking, in need of something substantial, yet unable to find it."
"Hale and hearty she is," he thought, looking at her jacket, tented slightly by her erect nipples. "I could give her something substantial." He tried to rein in his imagination, his desire to take off her jacket and suck and palm her nipple strong.
"Well, my dear," he said out loud, "perhaps I can help you find that substantial thing you seek. Perhaps you could describe the object you need?"
"Perhaps," she said a light flush rising along her neck and across her chest as her sex flushed with its own excitement. "What I am looking for is not easy to find. It has a special quality, a certain, firmness of soul with a soft, flexible nature, capable of reaching the deep places without leaving a physical mark of its passage yet fully able of leaving a lasting impression."
"A remarkable requirement to be sure," he said, his own erection swelling more and begging for release to see if it could measure up to the lady's requirements. Perhaps she would consent to measure it with her hands, to see if it would suffice. "But not so difficult on the surface to achieve. You would, of course like to review the object?" "Oh yes, that would be a requirement. I would need to fully inspect it, touch it, and manipulate it to make sure it is what I need," she replied her breath coming in little gasps.
Our hero steped forward, closing the small distance between the two and whispers in our maid's ear, "I think, if you are inclined, that I might have exactly what you need, something that will leave an impression, that is firm, yet soft and very substantial. And that is only one of the items I have that I think might help you." She reaches for his arm and places a hand on her delicate waist as she whispers back, "I believe, sir, that you might. I am willing to at least inspect the item in question for its suitability should it not fully meet my needs."
His breath catches as her hand grazed his erection and he again looked into her eyes before saying, "I think we have come to an arrangement that is satisfactory. However, I am on my way to a meeting that I cannot miss. Will this cause a problem?"
Her groan of frustration is almost audible, but she managed to keep a smile on her face as she pulled a small card from her bag and passed it to him. "I would be glad of your call," she said, "in no more than two hours?"
"I should be able to call on you in less time than that," he replies, putting the card into his jacket.
"Until then," she whispered, gently biting his ear and walking quickly away.
"Until then," he replies as he watches her walk away.
With barely confined frustration and desire oozing from her pours and pouring from her very core, our maid returns home, entering through the front door and calling for her maid.
"Matilda," she says, somewhat breathlessly, "I am expecting a gentleman caller in the next hour or so. Would you please escort him to the solar? I will be in my rooms until then and do not wish to be disturbed."
Without another word, she dashes up the stairs. Once in the safety of her room she peels the coat off her body and palms her exposed, hard nipples and basks in the flush that flows through her body, leaving her trembling slightly as she pulls and twists the sensitive nubs, her twat screaming for its own attention. She pulls off her skirt with an inward grown and thrusts a hand into her drenched core, two fingers penetrating her void as deep as she can thrust them while pressing her clit with her thumb. She cries out as the waves of pleasure rush over her, coating her hand with her spend and leaving her panting and aching all the more for his coming. She staggers to the bed and throws herself upon it, recovering a little of her strength while her hand wanders aimlessly, touching her soft places and rebuilding her pleasure and her frustration. She is insatiable, picturing his erect member in her hands, marveling at the texture of it, the smooth surface skin with the steely strength beneath. So alive in her hand, each beat of his heart mirrored in the movement of shaft in her hand. She can feel the skin of his sac, hanging below his shaft and demanding her attention no less. She can feel the small balls rolling inside it as she teases him. She desires to suck them gently, to hear his moan of pleasure before she focuses on his stiffness. Only slowly will she consume him, licking him like a candy and feeling him melt in her mouth as she sucks him deep within her mouth. Each inch a new treat for her senses as she evaluates him, deciding if he is substantial enough to fill her aching void, if he is enough to plunge her most intake depths. She hopes he is. She prays he can meet her needs for today her needs seem to be boundless.
Meanwhile, across town...
Our hero stood in the park until the last glance of the maid had vanished, and yet he stood, his erection sore against his trousers and the feeling of her breath against his cheek and the nip at his ear still fresh in his memory. He vowed he would measure up to her needs this very day, but first he had to dispose of his previous engagements. With the thought of her bent over in front of him in his mind, he hurried off to the first of his meetings.
The man across the desk from him seemed to prattle on and on without coming to the point, while our hero struggled to pay attention, his mind reverting to the image of the maid, her cleavage showing just enough to tantalize his interest and her need for something substantial. He longed to pull her skirts off of bury his tongue in between the soft folds of her sex, lapping up her oils and feeling her thighs pressing against his head as she is swept away in her desire. His cock was hard thinking about the puckered bud of her ass. He wondered if she had ever been invaded there and promised himself he would find out before the day was through as he took her first with his tongue, then his finger and finally his rampant organ. He could barely restrain himself from rushing out of the room and leaving his client to fend for himself.
At last the man wound down and with a hasty handshake and an assurance that he would be able to deliver the documents on time, he rushed down the stairs and into the throng of people. Within moments, he summoned a cab and was whisked away to the address he had been given.
Sitting in the back of the cab, he adjusted himself in a vain attempt to get more comfortable. His erection was pressing almost painfully into his pants and his sac seemed to be hanging more heavily than he could remember them ever in the past. He could imagine her hand gently cupping the sac and rolling it around and then pulling slightly as her other hand stroked the length of his pole, encouraging him to get harder with each stroke, encouraging him to give up some of his slippery clear fluid before she bent forward to take him in her mouth, her tongue swirling over the crown in preparation for sucking it down, inch by slow inch, until her nose is buried in the hair at his root and her delicate tongue is licking his sac. For a moment a shudder of desire passed through his body as he contemplated the feeling as if she were there and really doing it. He could feel her suck harder on him, rhythmically, urging him to spend down her throat. This made him shiver even more and his cock twitch and ooze.
Before he could return to his imagination, the cab pulled up in front of the address and he alighted on to the street. The house was tasteful, not large, but not small and certainly larger than his quarters. It was an end unit and seemed to have a large garden well fenced beside it. He took a moment to compose himself, and then stepped up to the gate, and passed through to knock on the door.
"Ma'am," Matilda said, knocking on the door.
Our maid stepped forward and pulled the door open slightly.
"Mr. Morton has arrived. I have put him in the solar as you requested."
"Thank you Matilda. I won't need you anymore today," she said, closing the door and returning to her dressing table. She stared at her image, wondering if she should just forgo the corset and put her jacket over her bare breasts or if she should forgo the jacket. In the end, she decided to forgo both, pulling a long robe over her naked body and cinching it at her waist before going down to the solar.
Gordon Morton was looking out the window after Matilda had left him, enjoying the view. The garden was lovely, greens highlighted here and there by violets, golds, and reds as the various flowers in bloom. There was a small path wandering through the plants and a stone birdbath, filled with water, and a pair of robins frolicking in the water. The room was warm as the sun shined down onto the glass and he removed his jacket, placing it over a chair at the writing table and moved to look at a different part of the garden. Here there was a bench, under a pear tree where there was plenty of shade in the summer and beautiful flowers at this time of year. The heat of the room was such that he decided to divest himself of his cuffs and roll up his sleeves. He wondered if this were a plot by the fair maid to have him naked for her before she even entered the room. The thought of sitting on the chesterfield wearing only a bright smile made him chuckle appreciatively. Perhaps, if he knew the lady better he would present himself thus, but Lori, as the name on the card had indicated, was someone as yet unknown to him and her humor might not be ready for such a stark vision.