The Philipino maid and the spoiled brat;
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 lady to me.
Both my 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 had 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 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.
But what she did do was even stranger. She did nothing.
I had expected her to come out yelping or something. But 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.
I slid my other hand up her bare thigh, 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.
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.
I hooked the waistband with my fingers, and pulled down,
exposing her flesh to the air. 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. 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.
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, 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
didn'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!
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 to far.
I pulled her 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 couldn't see, but I could feel her pubic hairs in my hand. I almost
creamed my jeans.
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,
internally.
I started to rub her clitoris up and down with my forefinger. It
became wet. I knew what that meant; She was turned on.
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 water running.
I turned the water off and went looking for her. Curiously, I didn't
find her. Perhaps she went home. I went up to my room, and my
magazine.
On the third day she wasn't in the kitchen. I went looking for her.
I found her cleaning my parent's room.
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 wearing jeans today. Nonetheless, I stepped behind her and I
put my arms around her. I went for her this time. 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 hard on against her ass through our
clothes as I massaged her breasts.
Her short, 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.
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.
What is it about having a woman's in one's hands that is so
electrifying? I didn't know then, and I don't know now. But
electrifying it is.
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.
I sat her down on the bed. My parent's bed. I took her shoes off,
and pulled her jeans off. Her panties, too. She made no move to stop
me, she just stared at the wall in a sort of catatonic way.
She was absolutely naked except for her gold chain and crucifix, and
her socks.
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.
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.
She stared at it, as it bobbed around. As I pushed her knees apart,
and climbed between her legs.
My thin 15 year cock slid easily into her 30-year-old cunt. Joanne
made no sign of acceptance or objection to what I was doing. She just
laid there, silent and still. I came within 30 seconds.
I felt suddenly disgusted with myself. What was I doing with this lady? She was the maid, it was totally disgusting to do it with the
maid. And the way I had done it! Abusing my position, taking
advantage.
I pulled my shrinking cock out of her prone body, and went to my room,
not forgetting my clothes and shoes. Joanne said nothing, and made no
move while I was in the room; she was motionless and naked on her
back, as though I had shot her.
I avoided her for a couple of days. I had resolved to leave her alone,
and in my shame, I didn't want to have to face her.
I looked up "Rape" in the dictionary. It said; "To take by force." So
I felt off the hook. I hadn't forced her, not physically anyway.
But then my adolescent libido overran my weak morality, and I decided
that it would be ok to just touch her once more. Just a little fondle
to get turned on by, that was nothing compared to what I had done
already, so what the hell.
I found her in the laundry room, folding cloths.
As usual, she froze like an caught in the headlights of a car
when she saw me approaching her. She held a pair of my father's
underwear limply in her hands, half turned towards me.
I couldn't help but grin, the grin of a hunter at a sure kill. A grin
of selfish delight.
Once more my adolescent hands slid across her belly, over her breasts,
stripping her of her shirt, small bra, and her fragile dignity, while
she stood so strangely silent and still.
Her had a pleasant shape, a strait downward slope, a large
horizontal protruding nipple, and a cute little curve of plump flesh
hanging below.
I turned her towards me, I bent down and put my face between her
tits, pushing them against my cheeks with my hands.
It felt good, great. The feel her soft firm breasts, warm against my
face.
I put my lips to one of her nipples, and rolled it between them, and
tasted it with my tongue.
Inevitably, I wanted more. I wanted to fuck her again. My resolve,
my guilt, and my disgust at what I done earlier was completely gone.
My cock was hard as stone, Joanne looked beautiful, smelled beautiful.
Her slanted eyes were exotic, lovely. I stood up straight and ran my
fingers into her black hair, I pulled her to me.
I tugged at her hair, pulling her head back, and I bent to kiss her.
I had molested her, I had fucked her. But I hadn't yet kissed her. I
did so, and I liked it. She had a small mouth with a slightly
upturned upper lip. As usual, she was completely passive, but did
nothing to prevent my attentions.
With one hand holding the back of her head, and the other at the small
of her back, I pushed my tongue between her lips, while her hands hung
limply at her sides.
I found that kissing was something that I really enjoy, and I didn't
let her go for some time. But finally, I wanted more.
I pushed her back against the dryer, and unbuckled her belt.
"No David, please. Not today. I have much work, and I want to go
home early. We do tomorrow, tomorrow David."
I stopped. What she had said was reasonable; a compromise.
"Tomorrow? You promise?"
"Yes David. We do tomorrow. You go now."
And she slapped my ass! And I think I even detected a smile on her
face.
I went up to my room, horny as hell of course. But I was happy, happy
that she seemed to be actualy willing, and I hadn't forced myself on
her again.
My heart was aflutter as I came home from school the next day. My
cock was burning in my jeans just thinking about it.
Joanne was sitting at the kitchen table. She was wearing her skirt, a
yellow button-down shirt, and some makeup. Her hair was freshly
brushed. She looked lovely.
She stood and smiled at me as I entered. I put my books down on the
kitchen counter, and I took her into my arms. Hesitantly, she put her
small arms around me as well.
"David," she whispered, "you a naughty boy, very naughty boy."
We stood and kissed in the kitchen for a while before going upstairs
to my room.
It was completely different this time; she took off her own clothes
and sat on the bed.
Naked, I stepped in front of her, and tilted up her chin, and kissed
her again. A shudder went through me as her hands found my genitals.
She lay back on the pillow, spreading her short legs wide. Her pubic
hairs were straight and black. She put her fingers at her vagina,
spreading herself open for me to see.
She looked at me briefly, then had to look away, embarrassed at her
own vulgarity.
I brought my head down between her thighs, closer. I wanted to see
it, I wanted to smell it, touch it.
I reached out with my tongue, to taste it. It was sweet and salty.
She bucked upward slightly at the contact. She was silent as I licked
her. I had no idea what I was doing, but it was clear she liked it,
the way she was running her fingers through my hair.
She pulled my face up to hers, and reaching down, took my penis in her
hand again, this time to guide it into herself.
It was wonderful for me, I had felt so guilty about the way I had had
her before. But now she wanted it, she was demonstrating that she
actually was willing. She wanted to have sex with her employer's 15
year son.
She wrapped her arms and legs around me, stroking my back and neck
with her fingers as I plunged in and out of her.
As usual, I was unable to last long, but this time she came with me.
"Mother," I asked at dinner, "is Joanne married?"
She looked at me curiously, "Why yes, she is. Why do you ask?"
"Just wondering. Does she have children?"
"I don't know. When did you start taking such interest in the help?"
It shames me, looking back. Joanne had been working for us for two
years, and my didn't even know if she had children or not.
"No, she doesn't have any children." My said, peering at me
over his glasses.
I was relieved. Somehow it would've been much worse if she'd had
children.
My relationship with Joanne slowly changed, the way relationships do
when there is sex involved. We made it almost every day, and I
improved a lot as a lover.
She started making me to my homework first, though. It irritated me
at the time, but looking back at it now, I find that very sweet of
her.
When she had her period, she didn't want me to fuck her. But she gave
me blowjobs, usually quickies, but once or twice she made me lie down
in my bed and gave it to me long and slow.
This went on for over a year. I was still dating Julia, and I used to
make out with her. We had gotten as far as kissing and a little
fondling.
She really appreciated the fact that I didn't try to push her farther.
She thought I was a really decent guy.
I really wanted to fuck Julia. She was 16, like me, and she had a
16-year-old body. Long legs, small ass, slim hips, full breasts. She
was and blue eyed and beautiful.
But I knew the way to get her was to wait for her to want me, and it
was easy as long as I was able to go home every day after school, and
have sex with our cleaning woman.
And the sex just kept getting better. Joanne's previously repressed
sexuality slowly gave way to a voracious sexual appetite. She was
willing to take all I could give her.
Suddenly I realized one day, that I had fucked Joanne every day for at
least four months.
Afraid, I ran my hand carefully over her normally flat belly. It was
slightly convex.
We had never talked much. Mostly, she told me I was a very naughty
boy, and I should do my homework before "We do". We fucked like
rabbits, but virtually didn't communicate.
I wanted to talk to her about this, but I couldn't bring myself to. I
ignored the situation, hoping it would go away.
It didn't.
"I've noticed Joanne is a way." My dad said over dinner one
evening.
"Yes," said my mom, "I suppose we'd better start looking for a new
maid soon."
I almost choked on my soup.
"Why, mom? Does she want to leave the job?"
"I haven't talked to her about it, but I don't suppose she'll be able
to work for us full-time and take care of her baby."
"Geez, mom. Joanne's been working for us for three or four years,
give her a chance."
"We'll see. I'll have to ask the agency if they can recommend anyone
good. Otherwise, I suppose we'll have to keep Joanne if she still
wants to work."
I do love my mother, but she's a bitch.
I didn't want to screw Joanne anymore. There was something I found
gross about fucking a pregnant woman. But I didn't know how to tell
her.
"David. Come upstairs! We do. Come now." She would say to me,
pulling me by the hand, as if her hips were as slim as ever.
I had trouble coming. She didn't. I found I had to think of Julia.
It wasn't right.
"David," she said to me softly one day, "you no want me anymore? It
okay, David. I understand."
And that was the end of it.
Joanne used to bring her baby, Daniel, to our house while she worked.
It spooked me, I was sure that kid looked like me. No one else seemed
to notice.
Even my bitch said she found the little fellow cute, and kept
Joanne on. Probably because she couldn't find another maid.
I went away to school. Julie went to a different school, but it as it
was also in Boston, we kept seeing each other. Well actually, we
shared an apartment together.
We got after we graduated.
We got a house on Long Island, near our families. Julie got pregnant,
and wanted to hire some household help so she could keep working.
I hired Joanne.
I knew it was dangerous, but I wanted my first son at my house.
I told Joanne she and her [our] son could stay in the spare apartment
above the garage.
She had never had another child. She told me she had wanted to, but
it hadn't happened.
Her husband had left her. I couldn't help but wonder if he had
suspected the truth about Daniel.
I was 27, Joanne was 41.
She still looked good.
I suppose it was inevitable.
I was working at home one day; Joanne had got the baby to sleep.
Daniel was at school.
Joanne came into the study where I was working and began fusing about.
She mumbled something.
"What was that, Joanne?"
"Nothing."
"You said something, Joanne."
"I said; 'You a naughty boy'!"
After not touching her for ten years, she was in my arms again, our
lips were meeting again. I couldn't believe it, I couldn't believe
that I would risk my marriage to have Joanne again, but I was, and I
did.
She was ripping at my belt, hauling out my now adult cock. It was me
who abused her the first time, but now she was evening the score.
She was so cute and exotic. She was bringing me back to my
adolescence; those wonderful care-free times when we used to enjoy
having sex almost every day, the secrecy and fear of discovery
insufficient to dampen our lust for each other, the unlikeliness of
our relationship no barrier to our ability to fulfill each other's
needs.
Before I knew what had hit me, we were in my bed, she was below me
again, wrapped around my dick again after all these years. She had
carried my child, she kept my house, she cared for both my children;
one of her own, the other of my wife.
It was only right, right that we should do it, make love. Joanne is my
woman, my first love, really. It's up to me to take responsibility for
her and her welfare, to care for her. To keep her happy. To fuck her
regularly.
She was a tigress, she was never like this before. So many years
before.
She griped me with her four limbs, her hips met my every stroke, she
cried out her passion. Had she changed so much?
I stared into her dark eyes as I came, holding her face in inch from
mine in an inescapable grip. I held on for another half minute, and
she came too. Came like she used to.
Luckily, Julia and Joanne get along very well. When I suggested that
we should help Joanne's first son save for his tuition, Julia
didn't object.
Joanne's second son is only a few months than my second with Julia.
God, I love them all.
I dread what would happen if Julia found out, and the stress of it all
gets to me sometimes. I'm thinking of seeing a shrink about it all,
but I'm not sure how it could help.
Ace 2001
I'd really appreciate hearing your opinion on this story.
Write me at; aceinthe_hole@hotmail.com
There are about 20 more that I've written. You can get them on
my website;
http://www.asstr.org/~aceinthe_hole//
and; ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/aceinthe_hole/ [in plain text]
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