“I’m a stickler for proper attire,” Mr. Hand informed his new maid, Naomi. “But don’t worry, I’ll supply the garments.”

The apron was spanking white, the black dress indecently high, the stiletto heels even higher, and the stockings beguilingly scratchy.

“What about um, underwear?” Naomi wondered aloud.

Mr. Hand grinned. “Underwear is not allowed.”

That edict made Naomi both uneasy and a wee bit aroused.

“Unless...” Mr. Hand paused to consider the matter. “Perhaps...”

Naomi waited expectantly.

“I believe I do have a pair somewhere,” he mused. “Wait here.”

Naomi waited.

Mr. Hand reappeared, a slender package in hand. “These might do.” He offered the thin case to Naomi. “Go ahead. Unwrap them.”

Naomi did as asked.

Unsheathed, the panties, almost weightless, scant and shear to the edge of transparency, for one reason or another increased Naomi’s arousal.

“Go ahead, try them on,” Mr. Hand instructed.

Under Mr. Hand’s watchful eye, Naomi stepped into the panties and tugged them up.

“Snug?” Mr. Hand asked. “Comfy? Do they cover your vulva?”

“Vulva?” Naomi questioned.

“Your cunt,” Mr. Hand qualified.

“I don’t really quite feel them,” Naomi admitted.

“Hm, maybe they need some adjustment. I’ll take care of that task.”

Mr. Hand’s hands eased beneath Naomi’s dress, his fingers nudging the material this way and that.

“Mm,” he hummed. “Nicely uliginous.”

“U – what?” Naomi dared ask.

“Uliginous. Moist. And becoming moister by the minute.”

Mr. Hand’s fingers smoothed the translucent cloth into the wet crease. “And your clit’s like a little uvula.” His thumb stroked the fattened bud.

“Oh!” Naomi cried out. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” Each “Oh!” more urgent than the last.

“Go ahead, girl, come,” Mr. Hand commanded, two fingers ensconced in Naomi’s sex, his thumb pressing her clitoris.

An orgasm of shocking strength sent spasms of almost unbearable thrill up and down Naomi’s spine. The pleasure caused her to collapse into Mr. Hand’s arms. He held her close until the undulations of ecstasy subsided.

“Excellent,” Mr. Hand pronounced. “Now if you could clean the bathroom?”

While serving as maid to Mister Hand,
Naomi obeyed his every command.
So, her uniform attire
Must suit his lewd desire.
What that meant, she came to understand.

The skirt was so short, it showed below
That Naomi had to go commando.
That was so, unless
A thong did caress
That which good girls shouldn’t ever show.

To make sure that the thong was worn right,
Mister Hand’s hand squeezed it very tight.
And, as her undies must
Become uliginous,
Hand rubbed them, to Naomi’s great delight.

Just between us, some words starting with U’s
In naughty stories or limericks, may infuse
A sense of the risqué
In a most welcome way.
And like tight-fitting thongs they don’t abuse.
{br}

poem by Ashley