Chapter 1

I was a little bastard when I was 15. A horny little bastard, too.

I had already started dating, but I wasn’t getting anywhere. I knew if I were to touch Julia anywhere more daring than her shoulder, she would tell her dad, her dad would tell my dad, and I’d be in deep shit.

Anyway, we had this Filipino maid. I’d never thought of her as particularly pretty. She was very short, slightly bowlegged, and her eyes were little bit too slanted. And she was at least 30 years old.

An old lady to me.

Both my parents worked, and were never home before 5:30.

I walked into the kitchen through the back door after school one day, about 3.

Joanne was looking for something under the sink. She was on her knees, and her ass was sticking up in the air. I’d never noticed, but she did have a nice ass. She usually wore jeans, but it was a hot summer day and she was wearing a skirt. Her ass wasn’t showing or anything, but in that position her skirt was rather high on her thighs, her panties not quite visible.

I had a bad attitude toward the hired help; I know now that I got it from my mother. She was always bitchy towards Joanne, or whoever else was working for us. Still, if I’d thought about it for a moment, I’m sure wouldn’t have grabbed her ass. She could’ve told my parents.

It was a moment of daring; I knew it was wrong, but I was not a ‘good’ boy. I grabbed her ass and waited for the consequences, thrilled at myself and without a thought for the person I was abusing. My young hand slid under her skirt, and touched her warm smooth naked flesh; my cock was hard and my heart pounding with fear and excitement. This was a first for me, and I anticipated our maid would freak out, and I grinned to myself as I waited.

But what she did do was even stranger. She did nothing.

She just held her position on her knees, her head under the sink.

Emboldened, I slipped my other hand up under her skirt. My four fingers were on her panties, my thumb on her bare flesh. She was just frozen there, she had stopped moving things around the lower shelf.

I didn’t know what to do. I knew I wanted to do something, I just wasn’t sure what. I didn’t know how much I could get away with. As I said, it was very surprising I had gotten away with this much.

My head was exploding with confused lust, mixed with hostility I slid my other hand up her rear, over her ass, lifting the skirt up to her waist. Joanne didn’t have much up front, but she was a damn fine woman from behind.

If she didn’t object, then this was allowed; she was the maid after all, my family paid her to be here, I was sort of her boss; maybe.

I suppose it was only half a minute, but it seemed a long time that I was stroking her fine ass through her panties. She was silent, immobile, her head buried in the cupboard.

I wanted to make her angry, I didn’t expect this. I wasn’t ready to just walk away. Impulsively, I hooked the waistband with my fingers, and pulled panties down, exposing her flesh to the air. I was sure that would get a reaction.

The cheeks were lovely and round, the color of milky coffee.

Finally, she spoke, from under the sink; “No, no, David, you mustn’t.”

That wasn’t nearly enough to stop me. She had to scream, slap my face, run away or something. I could feel my pulse pounding in my face and in my groin, as I ran my palms over a female behind for the first time.

I was surprised how it made me feel, light headed, terrified, sexy. I was wallowing in my own emotions, without a single thought for hers.

She backed out from under the sink, and twisting around, sat on the floor. She looked up at me, and our eyes met for an instant. Totally self-conscious and deeply ashamed, I turned and walked away.

I went straight up to my room, and pulling out my stack of Playboy magazines, hunted through them until I found an Oriental girl. Of course, she didn’t look much like Joanne. She looked about ten times better, actually. I went to my bathroom and beat off.

I couldn’t help but wonder how far I could’ve gone. Was she about to start making a scene, or could I have done anything? How passive was she?

I came home from school the next day at about the same time. My heart rate increased as I approached my own back door. I had resolved that I was going to molest Joanne again. Whether I got any farther or not, it sure was fun.

She was at the sink, doing the dishes. She was wearing a skirt again, to my delight.

I don’t know if she heard me walking up behind her. If she did, she pretended not to.

She was slightly shorter than me. I put my hands on her hips. I hadn’t realize how narrow her hips were, she never wore tight fitting clothes. Except maybe the skirt.

She stiffened. Her hands froze under the hot running water. My hands slid down, over her hipbones, I had to bend my knees to get my hands down below the hem of her skirt. I held her skirt up with one hand, and ran the other over and around her fine round ass once more. God, this was great. A treasure in my own home, and ass I could play with any time I wanted to!

Our petite maid turned off the water and just stood there, still and silent, leaning on her hands as I ran my young hand over her fine ass.

I wanted to go farther, but how far? I didn’t want to break the spell. It would be better to only be able to touch her behind every day after school like this than to fuck it up by trying to go too far.

Impulsively, I pulled her panties down. Down to her knees. I brought my two hands up under her skirt again, one on her ass and the other in front of her.

I knew this was wrong; that I was abusing her, that she was a vulnerable person, that she must be horrified, disgusted, and afraid. But I ignored all of that, I didn’t care about her feelings, only my own.

I couldn’t see, but I could feel her pubic hairs in my hand. I almost creamed my jeans. My privileged hormone soaked brain was telling me a false story that somehow made this ok. I was just a kid, I had to do this, and so on.

I was standing beside her. She had her eyes closed. She held her face expressionless. She had nice hair. I had never noticed.

She shuddered when my left forefinger found her clitoris. So did I. My hand was on it! Her cunt, pussy, twat. I had my hand on it, that girly part all the guys talked about but never got their hands on.

I started to rub her clitoris up and down with my forefinger. It became wet. I knew what that meant; she was turned on.

And that changed me; it felt like a forklift had rolled up behind me and lifted the huge weight of shame and guilt from my shoulders. She wanted this! Wanted me to feel her up, our demur little Catholic maid was a pervert!

Suddenly she pushed my hand away.

“Please, please don’t, David.” She muttered, and she pulled up her panties, and ran off to the other room. Leaving the dishes in the sink.

I went looking for her. Curiously, I didn’t find her. Perhaps she went home. I went up to my room, and my magazine.

Her sexuality was pure luck; I hadn’t had an inkling that she wanted such attention. To this day I consider it a godsend, the fluke that saved me. I was going to do it anyway; what kind of monster would I have grown up to be if it wasn’t for Joanne’s desire?

On the third day she wasn’t in the kitchen. I went looking for her.

I found her in my parent’s room, cleaning.

Just seeing me was enough this time. Her slanted eyes went round and her mouth dropped open. She went stiff, feather duster in hand. She was afraid.

I didn’t care; maybe her fear even spurred me on. It made me feel powerful; exhilaratingly, her fear pushed mine aside. I had the false bravery of a coward. I was a total piece of shit, I knew it, and I didn’t give a damn.

She was wearing jeans today. She stood stock still as I stepped behind her and I put my arms around her, my hands on her flat belly as I pulled her trim little body against myself.

I went for her tits, my clumsy young hands moving up and groping at her chest. I had always thought of her as titless, but it wasn’t so. She had small firm ones.

It was wonderful, and I ground my hardon against her ass through our clothes as I massaged her breasts.

Her short, thick hair was in my face, and I noticed how clean and shiny and black it was. She had been already working for hours, but I still found her smell somehow pleasant. She made no sound, no effort to stop me. She was passive, just standing there as I went at her.

I had felt her wet vagina the day before; I knew I could go further but I had no idea how far, or what I even wanted of her.

Flesh; I wanted to feel her bare flesh.

I unbuttoned her shirt. I pulled it down off of her, pulling it up out of her waistband.

I unhooked her black bra. She made no move. She was completely motionless and silent, barely even breathing, arms slack at her sides.

What is it about having a woman’s breasts in one’s hands that is so electrifying? I didn’t know then, and I don’t know now. But electrifying it is.

I stood behind her and slid my hands over her naked torso, my excitement increasing, the sensation of her smooth female flesh in my hands driving me to greater crimes. Her nipples were stiff, her breathing soft. Joanne was quite slim, with square shoulders and a narrow neck.

Yet this wasn’t enough for me; I wanted to find out just how far I could go. Still standing behind her, my hands slipped down and I unbuckled her belt, unbuttoned her jeans. Slid the zipper down.

She didn’t stop me. I kept expecting her to, but she didn’t. I was excited, and scared as hell. What would happen if I fucked her? Would she scream, would she tell? I pushed her trousers down to her thighs and ran my hand up and down her ass.

I sat her down on the bed. My parent’s bed.

One thing I had not done was face her; I didn’t have the guts to look her in the eye as I did these things.

Now I had to look at her face, look for a sign of her emotions; but our maid revealed nothing. She just stared at the wall in a sort of catatonic way.

I decided to try and get her completely naked; I wanted to see her and touch her that way.

So I lifted her leg and took her shoe off, then the other. She just sat there, and I knew she was afraid, but that she also wanted this; she was lonely, far from home. And if she didn’t stop me, I would keep going.

So I pulled her jeans down her short strong legs. Her panties, too. She made no move to stop me, even when her groin was exposed.

She was absolutely naked except for her gold chain, crucifix, and her socks.

As I said, she was small. Her skin was pale, just slightly tinged with color. Her hair was cut above the shoulder, thick and black. She had a cute little button nose, and her small breasts protruded just a little, innocently.

She didn’t look at me. She sat on the bed naked, with her eyes fixed on nothing. I pushed her onto her back, and I ran my hands up and down her smooth female body for a while.

Should I kiss her? Suck her tits? It seemed I was allowed to do whatever I wanted. She was limp as a mannequin, but she was quite conscious.

I decided I should be naked too.

She lay unmoving on her back on the bed as I kicked off my own shoes, took off my trousers and underwear. The cold air of the room was sharp on my hard on. I was terrified of myself, but determined to follow through, aware that this opportunity was unlikely to happen again; a compliant naked adult woman, a bed, an empty house.

She finally swiveled her eyes in my direction, and stared at my adolescent penis as it bobbed around. As I pushed her knees apart, and climbed between her legs.

She looked at my face, wide eyed as I pushed my thing into her center; it wouldn’t go in at first, I held it in my hand and poked, trying desperately to figure out how this worked before the spell ended and she told me to fuck off.

I went in a little; but then it stuck. I looked at her for clues, but she offered none. I pulled it out and pushed in again, a mixture of instinct and shit luck as I felt her wetness, her sexual fluids seeping out in response to me. On the third or fourth thrust, my thin stiff 15 year old cock slid easily into her wet 30-year-old body.

Joanne made no sign of acceptance or objection to what I was doing. She just laid there, silent and still. I stared down at her, and she looked back; she was shocked, as shocked as I was that this was happening. I felt her vagina contract around my penis, I was in an unfamiliar dimension and everything was weird and strange, the sensations of being inside her overwhelming and unexpected.

It wasn’t like masturbation. The sensation of her vagina on my penis was perfection, nirvana, unlike anything I’d ever experienced before.