Chapter 4: Joni's View

I couldn't just blurt out that I accepted Mr Valdosta's offer. I was raised too well for that. A woman needs her pride and never should accede to any man's desires too quickly. My mother taught me that. The problem is that the heart wants what it wants and Mom couldn't live up to what she preached.

Neither could I.

When I met a man I didn't like all that much, it was easy. Pretend to be the virginal ideal and stick with it. Even if the sex was unsatisfactory because the guy thought you want to be treated like a porcelain doll. When I met a man I liked, he would see through my veneer pretty damn quickly and more often than not ... hell, all the time, end up abusing me because I was unwilling, or unable, to express my real limitations on my submission.

I never knew until later, how normal it was when, as a teenager and having learned about sex I dreamed about a rich Sultan capturing me and making me his concubine. Once awake, I was horrified at the prospect, but in dreams, where everything is always perfect, I reveled in the respect I got for being selected out of many and gladly gave up my self-determination in exchange for security and motherhood.

Real life, however, is not anything like a Midsummer Night's dream. Oh, I knew I could be a 'kept woman' for a limited time, if I wanted but I also knew I would never be able to set my own schedule, and probably wouldn't be able to attend to my son, in the ways he needed and deserved. And from the third hand stories, I gathered, most men who did keep mistresses tended to be pigs and wanted to show their friends they had control over every bit of their mistress' life.

I knew from the moment Brian introduced me to Mr Valdosta, that he was a gentleman and respected women. Can't explain how, but it's there. Even if some old gent seems interested in your boobs and ass, there's a subtle difference in how a gentleman leers at you. It's like watching one guy looking at an old master's nude ... and another guy looking at a Penthouse doxy.

Of course I was hesitant to accept Mr Valdosta's offer of the temporary housekeeping job. Smelled fishy to me. But with Brian - rather his bitchy girl friend - having caught onto my personal quirk as I refer to it, I was pretty much out of options. Turned out my first two weeks in his house showed he was indeed a gentleman. Not one pass or lewd remark. And I have to admit I tempted him a little to see how he would react.

That said, the encounter with Mr Valdosta and his friend, while they were having sex in his room, was strangely liberating. I mean they are really old, not infirm by any means, but no spring chickens and their bodies showed it. But they didn't seem to mind showing what might ordinarily be called a disgusting amount of wrinkles, crepey skin and chicken legs, his that is. The way they looked at each other eased my pangs of concience.

And I knew he wouldn't make cuttiing remarks about my pudgy body. But the main thing is that he promised, and she verified, that I would be a trusted member of the household and not treated like some slave. While still allowing me to exercise my naughty girl tendencies. My only doubt was whether he would make me do all the naughty things I wanted to be made to do.

Long story short; if this is what it looks like, it's a sweet gig. He may not be a Sultan or a Sheik but the thought of my boss's old cock leaving his seed inside me, however it entered, gave me a little shiver.

"I agree ... I'll do it." Joni said.

Wow, that made me feel good. Though I was giving her plenty of incentive including much more freedom of action than she had before I met her, the idea of having her at my whim does make a guy feel great. Sorry for the apparent misogyny but life is a huge tradeoff for either of the sexes. A guy who wants to be a father, meaning fully responsible, gives up a lot. So does a career woman who wants to be a good mother as well.

I was proud that I and Sarah, of course, figured out rules of discipline that would satisfy both of us. My room would be a little Vegas, in the sense that what happened here, stayed here. In fact that, meaning 'Vegas' would be a good theme for the suite. Remind myself to have Joni work something up to fit.

"Come here and give us a big hug." Sarah said. Joni didn't hesitate to hug us while naked, in fact seemed eager. I enjoyed feeling her tits mash my chest and even more, seeing them mashing Sarah's tits. I wonder ... Nah, Pete. Don't press it.

"Lie on your back, on the bed ... feet towards us." Sarah commanded. Joni did so immediately.

"Now I wonder why the crotch of her panties are wet. What do you think, Pete?"

Well, I got the drift...

"Gee, Sarah ... I dont know. Maybe she's so afraid of us she peed in them. Is that right, Joni?"

"Ummm ... no Sir. Not exactly."

"Well, then ... what is it?" Sarah rejoined.

Joni was no dim light, she knew what this was about.

"It's sexual lubricant, Ma'am."

"Oh, yes. I've heard of that. Your vagina is secreting in expection of a penis being inserted into it. Is that how you would put it?"

"I suppose, Ma'm. I might say it a little differently." Joni was absently fondling her own tits. That was something else we'd have to work on.