Yellow sunlight seeped through the thin curtains as Miriam Hargreaves sat at the antique vanity table in the corner of the grand bedroom, delicately applying her make-up. Wrapped in a fluffy bath robe and with her long, chestnut hair still wet from the shower, she applied the make-up deliberately and precisely. She was tall and slim, her skin immaculately bronzed, and with a thin, pointed face that was beautiful but stern. As she dusted the blusher so carefully on her pronounced cheek-bones, she could hear her mother’s voice in her head; “One must not only be wealthy, one must also be seen to be wealthy”. It was a mantra that Miriam had lived her life by; the collection of cosmetics arranged neatly on the vanity table was worth hundreds of pounds, and she took great care every morning to make herself look like the wealthy woman she was.

From behind her she heard the sound of her husband, George, stirring in their lavish four-poster bed. “Good morning, Darling” she said matter-of-factly, without turning from the mirror. “Morning” he replied. Miriam finished applying the blusher and glanced around at her husband as she reached for the next pot. At 46, George was a full decade her senior, but he was still reasonably handsome. He was tall and fairly muscular, even if he did have a bit of a paunch starting to develop. His short, black hair and the stubble that covered his hard jaw were flecked with silver, giving him a distinguished look that Miriam found oddly sexy. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, she noticed the five inch tent that he was pitching under the silk sheets. “And don’t go asking me to deal with that for you; I need to get dressed” She told him sharply before turning back to her mirror. “What’s on the agenda for today, darling?” she asked. “Oh the usual bollocks; meetings with various arseholes, et cetera. You?”
“Nothing that would interest you, dear” she said in as sweet a voice as she could manage this early in the morning.

George huffed at the prospect of having to get up, then threw back the covers and heaved himself out of bed. Miriam watched him in her mirror as he padded naked into the en-suite. He closed the door behind him and a few moments later came the echoing whoosh of him pissing. Miriam rolled her eyes and decided that his refusal to piss against the porcelain must be due to some pre-historic territorial instinct to piss loudly and intimidate rival males. Men, she thought. The whoosh soon turned into a trickle and eventually stopped altogether, to be replaced by the roar of the shower and the sound of George humming some non-descript tune. A few minutes later he emerged, towelling himself off. He threw the towel over the radiator, where hers was already drying, and grabbed a crisp white shirt from the mahogany wardrobe.

Miriam was just applying her mascara when George’s frustrated voice came from behind her; “Oh for fuck’s sake, it’s just not going anywhere”. She twisted round in her seat, annoyed at having to pause mid-way through her task, and saw George standing in front of her in his white shirt with the top button open, naked from the waist down. His hands were on his hips and he was looking down at his still obstinately erect cock. “It just won’t go down love,” he re-iterated, “can’t do anything ‘till this is dealt with”. She stared at his engorged, jutting member and sighed. “Fine,” she said in an exhausted tone “sit down”. George lowered himself into the beige armchair in the opposite corner of the room as Miriam got up and pulled the velvet cord that hung from the ceiling next to the bed. Somewhere far off in the house, a bell rang. The ringing was quickly followed by footsteps on the stairs and then in came Bridget, the maid.

Bridget curtsied as she entered, and said in a high, chirpy voice; “You rang, Ma’am?” Bridget was in her mid-twenties and she was pretty. Her bleached blonde hair was cut short, with a sloping fringe, and there was a certain Scandinavian flavour to her friendly face. She was a whole head shorter than Miriam, and she was curvaceous, bordering on plump, with full hips and big breasts. She wore her maid’s uniform; the simple, short black dress with its white collar and pinafore. “Yes, Bridget. Mr Hargreaves is in need of some relief,” she said, casually waving a hand towards her husband “if you would be so kind”. Bridget turned to see George, whom she had not noticed upon entering the room, reclining impatiently in the arm chair, his blushing cock still stood at attention. “Yes, Ma’am” said Bridget, nodding obediently to her mistress. She closed the bedroom door behind her and walked over to where George sat and, sinking gracefully to her knees between his open legs, she calmly took him in her mouth. As her husband’s cock was unquestioningly sucked by the pretty young maid, Miriam went back to finishing her mascara. She listened to the rhythmic slurping and to George’s heavy breathing and occasional grunts of approval, sometimes looking behind her in the mirror to watch Bridget’s little blonde head dutifully bobbing up and down in George’s lap.

George bit his lip and grinned. Sat in this chair, legs apart and arms resting on the chair’s arms, he felt like a king, and he watched contentedly as the little servant girl paid homage to his cock. With her right hand, Bridget gripped the base of his shaft firmly; holding it steady as her lips formed a tight seal around him and slid up and down the length of his throbbing cock, leaving a thick layer of glistening saliva behind them. With her left hand she cupped his balls, massaging them gently. Bridget kept her eyes shut as she sucked him, focussing on her own movements and on the responses of the hot slab of flesh that filled her mouth. Mr Hargreaves’ taste was familiar; she had done this many times before and knew just how to get him off quickly. She made no effort to draw out the pleasure by putting on a show or teasing him. This was precisely what Mrs Hargreaves had said it was; relief, nothing more. She felt his pulse quickening, saw his hands gripping the arms of the chair, and knew that he was close. Withdrawing her head slightly, so that only the head of his cock was still held in her mouth, she began to pump him hard and fast with her hand, her saliva making him nice and slippery. She squeezed his balls firmly, felt his legs twitching and braced herself for the oncoming rush. With a loud gasp, he came; unloading his pent up cum into Bridget’s mouth. The hot stickiness that was at once creamy, salty and oddly soapy coated her tongue and filled her mouth. She kept her lips wrapped around his head, her hand slowly and deliberately milking the last drops of cum out of him until finally his cock stopped twitching and began to soften. Bridget broke away, sat back on her calves, and gulped down her hot, white mouthful.

Miriam heard her George climax just as she put the finishing touches to her make-up. She stood up and threw her bath robe on to the bed, revealing her lithe body, small breasts and the artfully sculpted strip of pubic hair between her legs. Then, completely naked, she sat down again on the low, cushioned seat in front of the vanity table and began pulling on a pair of stockings. She looked at Bridget who knelt, panting, at George’s feet, head down. “If you’re quite done, Bridget,” she said with cool authority “there are towels on the radiator which need washing, and bring some coffee up as well”. Bridget quickly got to her feet, brushed off her dress and nodded politely. “Yes, Ma’am. Right away, Ma’am.” A drop of cum had escaped her mouth and left a translucent trail down her chin. Miriam didn’t know whether Bridget realised it was there or not; either, way she ignored it as she grabbed the towels from the radiator and quickly bustled out of the room. George exhaled contentedly, then got up from the chair, stretched, and carried on getting dressed. “How was she, darling?” asked Miriam as if she was asking about nothing more exciting than the weather. “Outstanding, as always” George replied just as casually “Very thorough”. Miriam smiled as she pulled on a pair of expensive lace panties. The display had made her quite horny and she could feel a growing wetness between her legs. No time to deal with it this morning of course, but she knew that after work she might well have to put Bridget to work again. She had been irritable lately. She was in need of a good servicing and, as George had rightly said; Bridget was so very, very thorough.

…

George and Miriam had been married for almost eight years. She was a high flying corporate lawyer in one of the top city firms, he had accumulated a great deal of money working as a stockbroker and both came from exceedingly wealthy families, so they had always been an extremely rich couple. Five years ago they had abandoned their magnificent penthouse apartment in London and moved to this mansion in the suburbs and now commuted into the city for work.

Both Miriam and her husband had very powerful sex drives, and very early on in their relationship it had become abundantly clear that neither of them was enough, on their own, to satisfy the other’s libido. That is not to say that the sex they had wasn’t good; quite the contrary. They had always loved each other deeply, and when their two ambitious, domineering, take-no-bullshit personalities had come together, the sexual chemistry between them was palpable and their lovemaking was intense, passionate and aggressive and never seemed to grow stale. It was just that they both loved variety in their sex lives and when they wanted sex they wanted it right then and there; two factors which were hardly conducive to a mutually enjoyable, monogamous relationship. Thankfully though, this was never a problem for them. Being wealthy gives one a certain pragmatism from a young age, and this combined with their business backgrounds and straight-to-the-point personalities meant that both immediately recognised the logic and attraction that an open relationship held. George would often summon escorts to the apartment while Miriam was there, Miriam would pick up young studs in bars of a weekend, at work they fucked secretaries, colleagues and even clients when the mood took them, and together they would host and attend swingers’ parties, visit sex clubs, dungeons and even brothels, and enjoy all manner of perverse, exciting and frowned-upon pass-times. They we rich enough that nothing was off limits, and horny enough to try it all.

They knew as soon as they moved to the new house that they would need a full-time maid to deal with the cooking and cleaning, but it wasn’t until a year ago that they had hit upon the idea to combine the post with that of a live-in sex servant; someone who could take care of domestic matters, but who also wouldn’t hesitate to service them sexually when called upon. After their old maid had stormed out, threatening all manner of law suits following a rather indelicate propositioning by George, for which they had had to pay a sizeable settlement in exchange for her silence, they began advertising for the position. When you’re rich enough, people can track down anything for you, and within a few weeks they had a handful of applicants. The first two girls they interviewed were not what they were after; neither had quite understood the subtext of the advertisement they had answered and both had become squeamish when the interview took a turn for the explicit. The interviews all took place in the living room, and after a discussion of domestic duties, Miriam had explained to them very frankly what they were really wanted for and then instructed them to suck George’s cock. The first girl had flushed red, stammered an embarrassed apology and made a speedy exit. The second, a shy, nineteen year old Japanese girl, had looked like a rabbit in the headlights when she was given that order. She was shaking like a leaf as she tentatively put her lips around George’s swollen head. She held it there for three seconds before she burst into tears and started wailing about having dishonoured her family. While a frustrated George went to finish himself off, Miriam calmed her down, gave her a cup of tea and sent her on her way with the promise of discretion.

The third girl they interviewed had been Bridget. No problems of interpretation there; she knew exactly what she was applying for and she had astounded them both by going down on George immediately and with gusto, and then going on to strip completely naked and shamelessly and energetically ride George’s cock right there on the sofa while Miriam watched intently. They had offered her the job on the spot, before she had even had a chance to get dressed. Now Bridget had been living with them for just under six months, and had earned every penny of the generous salary she received. Her cooking was excellent, her cleaning thorough, and she had shown herself to be skilful, versatile and enthusiastic in the bedroom. Whatever was asked of her, she was always willing, able and cheerful. Both Miriam and George agreed; she was one of the smartest investments they had ever made.

…

The day proved to be as long and dull as Miriam had expected. Tedious client meetings, a constant stream of irritating emails and all day long the thought of obedient little Bridget distracting her from her work. Nothing made it harder to get on with things than being horny in the office, and at one point it was all she could do not to rush to the ladies’ room, lock herself in a cubicle and quickly rub one out. She arrived home that night at about half nine. She and George ate, then he went back to his study to finish off some work while Miriam went upstairs. She gratefully pulled off her work clothes, leaving them in a crumpled trail across her bedroom to the en suite. In front of the bathroom mirror, she pulled the clips from her hair, untying the tight bun and shaking it loose. She grabbed a make-up wipe from the pack on the shelf below the mirror and diligently scoured the make-up from her face. That done, she left the bathroom and, with a sigh of relief, collapsed onto the bed. For a while she just lay there, luxuriating in the comfort of the bed and the relaxation of feeling completely natural and unencumbered. Then, as she sprawled naked on the sheets, her mind turned once more to Bridget. Almost unconsciously, her fingers strayed to her pussy; she was already getting wet. Lazily she circled her clit with her middle finger as she thought of Bridget pleasuring George so attentively that morning. She looked at the clock; 22:45. Bridget would have finished all of her chores at least half an hour ago. The house was still and silent. Now was the time.

Miriam got up and pulled on a black silk dressing gown that was hanging on the back of the door. It was a wonderfully elegant garment and Miriam loved the feel of the shimmering fabric against her bare skin. She belted the dressing gown around her waist and silently slipped out of the bedroom door and tip-toed across the landing and up the narrow flight of stairs to the top floor. She knew there was really no need for her to be so clandestine. She could have been as open as she wanted, but sneaking around like this was so much more exciting and made her feel so much naughtier. She reached the top floor landing; there were five rooms on this floor and the landing would have been pitch black if there wasn’t a light on in the last room on the left. Quietly she crossed the landing, turned the doorknob and went inside.

Bridget sat cross legged on her bed, a book open on her lap. She was dressed in a loose fitting pink vest top and white pyjama bottoms decorated with hearts, and was looking with some surprise at Miriam who had just entered her bedroom and now stood at the foot of the bed. Bridget’s single bed took up most of the space in the small room lit by the dim, yellow glow of a bedside lamp. “Is everything alright, Ma’am?” Bridget asked, putting the book to one side and uncrossing her legs so that she was now sat on the edge of the bed. Miriam didn’t say anything; she just walked around the bed to stand in front of Bridget. She smiled down, almost lovingly, at the maid as she smoothly pulled the silk cord around her waist and let the dressing gown fall to the floor. Miriam stood there, still smiling, resplendent in her nakedness. There wasn’t a part of her that wasn’t immaculately groomed; every inch of her long, thin body was beautifully, but not excessively, tanned. Her legs, arms and stomach were toned and her rich chestnut hair fell delicately to caress her small dark nipples that stood provocatively erect. Even her pubic hair was neatly trimmed into thin, elegant strip. Bridget’s bright blue eyes were wide as she took in the sight of her mistress’ body. “Ma’am, I …” but before she could finish the sentence, Miriam had straddled her and pressed her lips against the Bridget’s in an electrifying, passionate kiss. There were no tongues, but the intensity of it was wonderful. Miriam broke away and Bridget, still leaning back on her arms, was left reeling. Before she could say anything, Miriam had pressed a finger against her lips and, as she looked into Bridget’s deceptively innocent eyes, whispered “When we’re together like this, you call me Miriam”.

She pushed Bridget down onto the bed and kissed her again, voraciously, almost aggressively. Her skin tingled as Bridget’s hands explored her sides and then her hips and then further down to her buttocks. Then Bridget’s grip suddenly tightened and Miriam let out a startled squeal as she was abruptly flipped onto her back with Bridget lying on top of her, her look of innocent confusion replaced by a seductively impish grin. Miriam’s heart was racing and she bit her bottom lip and Bridget, kneeling between her legs as if the pair of them were locked in the missionary position, bent forward and, with excruciating slowness, dragged the tip of her tongue up from Miriam’s navel to between her breasts. She drew back slightly before extending her nimble tongue towards Miriam’s waiting nipple. Miriam vainly tried to hold back a moan as Bridget’s tongue circled and flicked across her nipple. Then she gasped as Bridget abruptly bit the nipple and an electric spark of pleasure blossomed through her. Bridget sat up, still smirking at the pleasure she was inflicting, and pulled the vest top up and over her head. Her magnificent breasts, lifted by the action, bounced as they fell free of the fabric; the immaculate, milky skin quivering for just a moment before settling. Miriam drank in the sight of Bridget’s breasts They were much larger than her own; round and full with big, pink nipples. Miriam could contain herself no longer. She sat up and eagerly fell upon Bridget’s chest. Greedily she suckled at Bridget’s ample bosom. The taste and smoothness of the skin beneath her tongue was intoxicating, and her thoughts began to blur as she kissed, licked, sucked and bit at the maid’s exquisite flesh. Her nipple was soft and malleable at first; a warm, supple bud that her questing mouth quickly enveloped. But as her swirling tongue began to explore, she felt it getting firmer and she began to use her teeth; gingerly at first, but then with increasing force, to be met with sounds of approval from Bridget who had been stroking her hair encouragingly. At the same time, Miriam fondled Bridget’s other breast with her left hand. She loved to cup the breast and feel its weight, to squeeze and feel that uncannily perfect balance between just enough give and just enough resistance, and to caress and feel the nipple harden at her touch. None of her actions were planned out; she was going on pure, lustful instinct. Whatever felt right, whatever came into her head, she did.

Out of nowhere she suddenly felt Bridget’s cool fingertips between her legs and instinctively she clung tighter to the luscious bust in front of her. Bridget had lent forward and reached down, under Miriam’s raised arm, to touch her rapidly wettening pussy. Her experienced fingers slid between Miriam’s moistened lips and down, pausing momentarily as she reached the opening of her vagina, before plunging her middle finger deep into the hot, tight wetness. Miriam cried out in pleasure as Bridget’s finger pumped in and out of her and she began to move her hips to the same rhythm. Leaning forward had brought Bridget’s face level with Miriam’s neck and the lingering scent of expensive perfume excited her. She began to plant small, delicate kisses on Miriam’s graceful neck, but desire rapidly overcame all restraint and she set about devouring the perfumed skin in an almost vampiric manner. Her mistress would come to her like this every other week or so, and it was an occasion that she looked forward to eagerly. Sucking the master’s cock of a morning or being bent over his desk of an evening was a duty that she was happy to perform but from which she gleaned little enjoyment. This, on the other hand, was a genuine pleasure. Miriam’s pussy was almost dripping wet now, her juices running down Bridget’s fingers, and the graphic slopping noises that she made as she diligently masturbated her mistress made her own pussy start to burn with anticipation. As her middle finger worked, she stretched out her thumb and found Miriam’s clitoris. Wasting no time, she began rubbing the little button in a fast, circular motion. That was the final straw for Miriam. She had been holding back for a minute already, but the sensation of Bridget’s touch on her clit sent a burst of pleasure coursing through her. Her back arched and she threw back her head as she came. Then she clutched at Bridget, pressing herself up against the maid’s fleshy body, her hips twitching as she rode out the orgasm. Gradually the fire ebbed away until it was gone and Miriam felt her legs give way underneath her and she collapsed sideways onto the bed.

For a few moments she just lay there, panting. Bridget smiled at her as she absent-mindedly sucked her middle finger clean, before leaning down to plant a small, affectionate kiss on Miriam’s temple. Then she got up and wandered over to the other side of the room. “I trust we aren’t finished?” said Bridget with mock-sincerity. Miriam, who had recovered her composure, pushed herself up onto her elbows and turned to see Bridget standing, slightly bent over, with her hands resting on the desk, looking over her shoulder at Miriam. “Perish the thought” replied Miriam, with playfully pretended shock.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Bridget purred, “but if we’re going to carry on then I am feeling rather overdressed, and I’d hate to rob you of the pleasure of making me decent for our little games!” and with that she wiggled her shapely rear. Miriam beamed and all but leapt off the bed. In the throes of passion it had completely slipped her notice that Bridget was still clothed from the waist down, so now she raced to kneel on the floor behind Bridget, whose elbows now rested on the desk as she proudly thrust out her behind. Excitedly, Miriam hooked her fingers into the elasticated waistband of Bridget’s bottoms and, deliberately slowly, began to pull them down; savouring the sight of them sliding down to reveal Bridget’s broad, pale buttocks, inch by inch. She let the bottoms fall to the floor and Bridget stepped out of them and stood there; naked. She was still bent over and the pose served only to accentuate the shape of her impressive behind. In keeping with her full and curvaceous figure, Bridget’s arse was big and round; as much an asset as her splendid breasts and, to Miriam, irresistible. She placed a hand on each buttock and for a few moments stroked them both softly before giving the pale cheeks a firm squeeze and pulling them apart so she could admire Bridget’s most intimate parts. Her pussy was flushed and glistening with moisture, while the tight pucker of her arse-hole looked so inviting that Miriam couldn’t resist flicking her tongue across it, making Bridget giggle excitedly.

Miriam stood quickly, grabbed Bridget’s hips and spun her round to face her. She kissed her hard, hungrily pushing Bridget back until she was perched on the edge of the desk with Miriam standing between her open legs. She felt Bridget’s hands on her buttocks, pulling her in closer; their breasts pressing together as they greedily devoured one another. Then Miriam broke away from the kiss and slowly began to lower herself back to her knees, planting delicate kisses down the length of Bridget’s torso as she went; on her neck, her collar-bone, her breast, her breast again, her ribs and her stomach, before finally her knees touched the ground and her head was level with the maid’s exposed crotch. Mr Hargreaves insisted that Bridget keep herself completely shaved at all times, and Miriam planted one last, tender kiss on the smooth mound before her fingers parted Bridget’s blushing lips and her mouth came forward to latch onto her clitoris. Bridget was never quiet, shy or reserved when it came to sex, and, true to form, she made no attempt to hold back her loud, high pitched moans as Miriam’s experienced tongue slipped under the soft skin of her hood and went to work on her clit. Deftly her tongue circled the little pink button; slowly at first, then faster. Miriam smiled at the sound of Bridget’s pleasure and began to work her mouth more passionately. She licked hard, always changing her direction and technique, but never letting up in her intensity. Occasionally she would use her teeth, lightly biting Bridget’s clit or rubbing it between her tongue and front teeth. Bridget was awash with pleasure, no idea what was coming next, and she gripped the edge of the desk and cried out as, without warning, Miriam plunged two fingers into her vagina. Miriam became more forceful then. Bending her fingers in a beckoning motion to best hit Bridget’s g-spot, she began rhythmically thrusting them in and out. Bridget was already wet, and her juices ran down Miriam’s fingers to soak her hand, and down her chin as she continued to bear down on Bridget’s clit, moving her mouth in time with her fingers. Bridget was on fire; sweat ran down her forehead and chest, her heart pounded and her legs began to twitch as she sensed the approaching orgasm. Miriam’s fingers pumped and her tongue rubbed, and Bridget bit her lip and tried desperately to hold on. She tried and tried until her body gave way to the relentless assault on her senses and she let out a scream of unbridled ecstasy. A wave of sensation flooded her body. Her thighs clamped firmly around Miriam’s head and her hips began to twitch and buck. She lost all sense of time and everything around her, and felt as if she had been suspended in space, her body wracked by timeless throes pleasure. Gradually the world seeped back into existence, her thighs relaxed, her arms gave way and she collapsed onto the desk; naked, breathless and tingling.

Miriam got up and smiled as she wiped the juices from around her mouth with the back of her hand. Her tongue and jaw ached a little from the exertion, but she had enjoyed it immensely, and making Bridget explode like that had gotten her all hot and bothered again. Her pussy was ready for another servicing, and what better to get Bridget to snap to it than a playful assertion of authority? “If you’re quite finished lazing about,” she said in her best mistress’ voice “I have most definitely not had my fill for the evening”. Immediately, Bridget sprang to her feet and stood to attention, excited by the dominance in her mistress’ voice. “I trust you still have the gifts I gave you last time?” Miriam asked in a cool, commanding voice.
“Yes, Mistress.” replied Bridget.
“Then fetch them.” Miriam ordered, and Bridget bent down to open the bottom drawer of the desk, rifling through it before rising again having found what she was looking for; a small bottle of lube, and a shiny black dildo attached to a red leather harness. With her head subserviently bowed, she handed them to Miriam who, without a word, knelt, placed the bottle of lube on the floor beside her and began to disentangle the straps of the harness. That done, she held the harness up for Bridget who obediently stepped into it, keeping her hands clasped tightly behind her back and doing her best to suppress a shiver of excitement as Miriam hoisted the harness up to her waist and tightened the straps. The sight of the Bridget sporting the magnificent strap-on, its leather straps squeezing her pale, soft flesh, made Miriam even hornier. The dildo was a solid seven inches long and thick too, and curved upwards; just the way Miriam liked it. It had a fat, mushroom-cap head, thick veins sculpted down its length and a pair of weighty-looking sculpted balls hanging beneath its proud shaft. Miriam grabbed the bottle of lubricant and, holding the dildo steady with one hand, squeezed out a line of the clear jelly right along its length, which she then spread all over the black latex until the whole thing had a bright sheen to it. She smiled at the sight of her newly masculinised maid, then turned and climbed onto Bridget’s small bed. She positioned herself on all fours, right on the edge of the bed with her up-thrust arse on full display. “Well,” she said, turning to look over her shoulder, “You know what to do.”

Empowered by her new cock, Bridget wasted no time in moving to stand behind Miriam; its bulbous head pressing against the sopping wet opening of her vagina. Her mistress’ arse lacked the roundness and the bounce of hers, but it was nice all the same. It was smaller, more pert, and bent over like this looked absolutely amazing as Bridget placed her hands on the firm cheeks. “How would you like it?” She asked.
“Oh, I think the time for tenderness has passed, don’t you?” Miriam replied in a sultry tone, “Hard and fast, my dear, and don’t let up; I want to soak the sheets through!”
For the briefest of moments Bridget paused to admire in the view of her mistress exposed and on offer, then she seized Miriam’s hips and pulled her back hard, thrusting her own hips forward to impale Miriam on the dildo. A jolt of pleasure shot through Miriam’s body, making her scream in delight as her back arched and her fists clenched, gripping the covers. For a few seconds, Bridget held her like that; all seven inches buried in her quivering pussy. For Miriam, the feeling of being filled so completely like that was almost too intense for words. Then Bridget slid the shaft out of her mistress, then back in and quickly established a rhythm. She was merciless; slamming the dildo in hard and fast and revelling in the rhythmic slap as Miriam’s arse collided with her own hips and in each exquisite momentary ripple that ran across her bouncing buttocks. Bridget rode her mistress for all she was worth. Miriam was in ecstasy, moaning and gasping at the top of her lungs as her dripping pussy was pounded relentlessly. She was always amazed at the strength and vivacity with which Bridget made love. She had had ripped nineteen year old studs in the past who didn’t fuck her as hard or as well as Bridget did, even when she’d squeezed their little ball sacks and ordered them to try harder. Barely any time had passed before Miriam felt her orgasm approaching. She came hard, screaming with pleasure as the orgasm rolled across her body. She twitched and thrashed and buried her face in the bedclothes, but through it all Bridget just kept on fucking; never slowing down or easing off, she just kept on ramming the strap-on into Miriam’s pussy. Another orgasm, just as intense, came seconds after the first one, and Miriam knew from past experience that these were just the first of many. She screamed again, and Bridget kept on fucking

. . .

Downstairs, almost at the opposite end of the lavish house, George sat at the desk in his darkened study, hunched over his glowing laptop. His breathing was heavy and his face sweaty and flushed from the show that he had enjoyed for the last half hour. His trousers were in a crumpled heap around his ankles and he was speedily pumping his cock as he took in the scene that was unfolding on the screen in front of him. Bridget had never noticed the tiny, concealed spy-camera that they’d had installed in her room while she was visiting her parents a few months ago, and both he and Miriam had already gotten immense pleasure from it. As soon as he had finished his work for the evening, he had checked the link to the camera, seen his wife undressing and settled in for what was sure to be an invigorating performance. Now he watched as his wife and the maid went at it hammer and tongs. They were facing mainly away from him, and the sight of Bridget’s round, milky arse jiggling with every stroke was driving him wild. His climax came quickly and abruptly as, with a grunt, he fired off his hot white load into a waiting tissue. He threw the tissue into the nearby waste-paper basket, switched off the computer, pulled up his trousers and, contented, went upstairs to bed to wait for Miriam.

. . .

Some time later, the two women lay panting, sweaty and exhausted on the bed. Bridget had neglected to remove the strap-on when she collapsed onto the bed, and now as she lay spooning Miriam, Miriam could feel the dildo gently pressing against her arse. Having recovered her wits after the tirade of orgasms that had left her twitching and insensible, Miriam got up, without a word, slipped her dressing gown on and moved towards the door. As she was opening the door, she stopped and looked back at Bridget, still lying on her side on the bed. “Good night, Bridget” she said.
“Good night, Miriam” Bridget replied sleepily.
“We’re done now Bridget,” said Miriam curtly “do not address me in so familiar a fashion.”
“Sorry Ma’am,” she said apologetically, quickly standing to attention, still completely naked but for the strap-on that gently bobbed up and down between her legs, “Good night, Ma’am.”
“Good night, Bridget” she said with a wry smile, and with that she closed the door behind her and padded off down the landing.

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