by Katie Ford
He stuck his thumb in my ass and I muffled my moans with my hand. I didn't want to wake the baby.
With his other hand, Theo slid his fingers up and down my clit, playing me like an instrument, making me swoon. He pushed his thumb in deeper in my ass and snarled, “I'm going to fuck you in your sweet little asshole.”
I murmured, “Yes. I want it!”
Theo's thick sturdy cock inside my ass was a treat. Just thinking about it made my cunt juicy and wet. He kneeled down and lapped at my pussy and my asshole with his tongue. It felt so fucking good. I spread my ass cheeks with my hands and pushed it out further.
Theo stood and whispered in my ear. “Stay here. Just like that.”
My breasts were dangling down and began to leak milk. I squeezed the nipple and milk shot out. Theo came back holding a dildo and lube. “Mmmm. Can I have some of that?”
I turned around to him. Theo took my breasts into his mouth and sucked. “I love your milk, Mia. It tastes so good.”
It turned me on that he was attracted to me like this: my big fat tits leaking with milk. I pulled away from him anxious to get fucked in my ass. I bent over and whispered, “Fuck me.”
Theo pushed the dildo into my pussy and I purred in happiness. I took hold of it and slammed it in and out, jamming it all the way into me. Theo watched me and whispered, “That looks so good. So fucking good. Fuck your pussy for me.”
He stroked his dick wet and greasy with lube. I bit my lip waiting for it to part my asshole. Theo shoved the head in carefully and slowly. This was my favorite part. His big head spread me open wide, and I felt completely taken by him.
I bucked back against him wanting him to pick up the pace and fuck me harder until I saw stars. Theo took my hint and thrust into me. All the while, I was pumping my pussy with the dildo. The pressure of the fat dildo and my husband’s hefty cock inside me at the same time was deliciously tender.
My nerves tingled everywhere in my body. I felt close to coming. “I'm going to come,” I uttered, urging Theo to slam me harder.
He kneaded his hands into my ass and pulled me into him with force. His thrusts came faster and faster. Suddenly, an orgasm burst inside me making me shudder in pleasure. A few moments later, my husband came too yelling out in satisfaction. The pleasant rush of his hot cum swelled inside my ass.
We stayed like this for a while with Theo's cock inside me. Theo took the dildo from me and licked it clean. “I love your pussy,” he panted.
I laughed. “I remember there was a time when you used to say you loved me!”
Theo kissed my neck. “I love you. Every single part of you.”
“Let's check on the baby,” I whispered, worried our lovemaking had woken her.
We tiptoed to our daughter, Alyssa's room, and cracked the door. She was nine months old, and in complete control of our hearts. She was asleep peacefully with her chubby little face curled into a smile.
“I wonder what she's dreaming about,” Theo said as we closed the door.
I smiled. “I don’t know, probably sweet baby dreams.”
After Theo and I repaired our relationship, I went back to Berkeley and finished my Computer Science degree. While getting my degree, I continued to work at Pictogram.
After Theo had taken the reins back from the Board, he had a heart to heart with Warren. Theo convinced him that the Board were just stuffy old geezers. With Warren’s blessing, Theo fired every single one of them, and replaced them with new advisors who had their eyes on the future. He even made me a Board member.
When I finished my degree, instead of returning to Pictogram as an engineer, I decided to try my hand at being CEO at my own company. I started Kid'n Caboodle, an app where parents can easily upload photos and videos to the cloud without taxing their local storage on their devices.
Kid’n Caboodle had a ton of handy services like printing albums, fun interactive keepsake books for parents, and facial recognition software that can be used to help prevent child abduction. My new app served as a companion app for Pictogram.
Jill and I were still BFF's, and she was actually my CTO at Kid'n Caboodle. She and Roger were engaged! And she was right. He was a decent guy if you got to know him. He apologized profusely for being a brogrammer douchebag after Jill had shown him the error of his ways. She had been a great influence on him.
Roger also worked for Kid'n Caboodle as a Tech Lead. Ultimately, Jill was his boss, and their rapport together at work was adorable.
Poor Penny was living full-time at a mental institution. She really lost it and couldn't accept that Theo didn't want to be with her. In fact, at her institution, she was living in a fantasy that Theo, a stuffed bear, was her husband and they lived in a gigantic mansion. Because of her unstable psyche, we decided not to press charges against her. She had enough to deal with and wouldn't be released anytime soon.
Theo and I had never been happier. We both had two powerful companies between us, and a beautiful little girl. I got to get to the guy and have the dream job.
Dreams do come true.
THE END
His Princess
~The Billionaire’s Maid~
© 2018
By Gemma Wolf
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CHAPTER 1
HOWIE
My cock is rock hard and throbbing against the zipper of my tailored pants. If I stare at her too long, I’m going to have to take these Italian slacks back to the dry cleaners. I’ve never seen the maid by the couch in my penthouse before. I would have noticed a girl like that. She’s on her hands and knees by the white leather sofa, right in front of my penthouse window. She wipes the marble floor like it needs cleaning, but actually, this whole place is pristine.
I set my briefcase down on the kitchen counter while she work on the other side of the apartment. I keep her in my eye as I ask Edwin, my butler, about the new girl.
“Edwin, who is that?”
“Who, the maid?”
“Yes, the maid.” Her head perks up like she’s heard us talking. But no, the girl’s noticed a stain on the couch and sits upright and starts to wipe again. Her blonde hair is bound in a tight ponytail that reaches down her back. I can see her breathing. Her chest moves up and down. She’s on her knees on my floor. Her sweet cunt hovers over my Persian rug.
Edwin frowns while staring her way.
“We hired her while you were vacationing in Florence. Is there a problem with her services?”
“No problem at all, Edwin. Just asking.”
My butler nods and bows before scuttling off. Suddenly, it’s just the two of us together in the living room. The blonde’s kneeling now, stroking at a stain that doesn’t really exist. My cock twitches under my belt. I have to adjust my pants to hide my erection, but at that moment, she raises her face and I catch a glimpse of a perfect profile. Wow. Since when did Miss America clean house for others?
I know what you’re thinking. He’s just some rich asshole with no heart for others. He doesn’t care about the help, much less some poor girl who works for pennies. But you’re wrong. I’ve served my time, literally. I was in Afghanistan during 2007, where I almost lost my leg and my arm. I’ve known the grunts, and I’ve known the guys in charge too. But somehow, this girl changes the equation. All the memories of war rush away when I see her ponytail bobbing up and down on the other side of the white couch, intersecting with the tip of the Empire State Building looming in the penthouse window.
I clear my throat. I’ve got to say something. If I don’t, my cock is going to scream something rude and crass. In fact, there’s a little bulb of moisture coming out of the tip. And all this from seeing her ponytail, for god’s sake. I clear my throat again. This time the maid’s face turns, and the breath whooshes out of my chest.
Because she’s gorgeous. Absolutely beautiful. Blue eyes as clear as the sky and lips
like rose petals, ripe and velvety. She’s looking straight at me.
“Mr. Bates,” interrupts a voice to my left. It’s Albie, the elderly woman who is the head housekeeper of my New York property. “Mr. Bates, you’ve got a phone call.”
I try to bring my erection down. I try to think about Albie or someone else who’s old and decrepit. But it’s useless because I’ve seen that face now and my body’s on fire. Her chin hovers above lush, swaying breasts. Those tits scream out for me under the buttons.
Oh shit. I need her. My very own Cinderella.
But the phone call can’t be ignored, so I grunt something inarticulate and turn away, striding to my mahogany-paneled office. Seizing the receiver, I speak.
“Yes, go ahead and transfer the six hundred million. The offshore accounts are going to be fine. Look, next time you need my permission, go through my accountants, okay? You’ve interrupted a perfectly lovely afternoon.”
Because this business stuff is fucking boring. I’m thinking about how soft her lips are going to feel on my cock. I’m thinking about tonguing that pussy. Fuck, I’m thinking about tonguing that asshole even. I just want my mouth on that delectable maid.
The voice on the line burbles something that sounds like the adults in a Charlie Brown cartoon.
“No apology necessary,” is my grunt. “I’ll talk to you later.”
And with that, the call’s done. I hang up and fall back into my chair. I don’t really need to have any say in what goes on with my business affairs anymore. It’s all behind me. I made my money and now I’m free from all thoughts and cares because at this point, the money makes money by itself. After twenty years of slogging away, my company now runs like clockwork. Sure, they need my okay sometimes for big transactions, but for the most part, it runs on its own.
So that leaves me plenty of free time, and I use it. I’ve got my penthouse, my vacations, and my… service team.
A knock comes on the door.
“What is it?”
“I’m coming to pick up the trash.”
I know at once it’s her. I can just tell. No one else in this house has a voice like that. Musical, innocent, and sweet. She sounds younger than I thought. My cock stiffens again at the thought of everything I want to do to the sweet female.
“Come,” is my commanding tone.
She does as she’s told. Good. Just as expected, there’s Cinderella, dressed in a short black and white maid’s uniform. I can see her full frontal now, and it makes my mouth water. Long legs coated in beige nylon. Face like a princess. A tiny waist that flares into full, round ass. Boobs straining mightily against the tight button holes of the uniform.
Perfect. Just perfect. Because everything about her look screams “my type.” But to my surprise, I’m at a loss for what to say and how to command her. It’s odd because usually these things come naturally to me. I know how to use women, and I definitely know how to make them feel good.
So to find myself frozen, the words melting on my lips, is weird. But I guess it makes sense in some messed-up way because ever since getting back from Afghanistan, things have been off. Sure, I still go to the nude beaches and debauched parties in SoHo filled with celebrities. But I’m not into it anymore. Instead, I’ve been totally celibate, which isn’t my usual style. The therapist says its PTSD, but I call it Pretty Things Stopped Deploying. Shit is different now, and I don’t know how to get my mojo back.
But the blonde girl has one hundred percent of my attention. Now she’s coming near the other side of my desk to grab the trash. I scoot my chair back and my cock rages under my pants. I hope she doesn’t see because she’ll run screaming in fear, my package is that huge. Her supple breasts bounce as she nears, and I desperately want her to sit on my lap. I want to push myself inside her. I want to fill those holes with my straining length.
Fuck.
She bends before me, and I catch a whiff of her scent for the first time. Lilac perfume, sweet and light.
“Excuse me,” she smiles shyly, reaching under the desk. Her blonde ponytail grazes her cheek as she extracts the bag of trash.
“Miss?” I ask. She looks up, blue eyes wide and trusting. I hope she doesn’t see the bulge in my pants, but it’s near her face. She’s between me and the desk and it’s taking all of my control not to mount her from behind and tear through those nylons.
“Yes?” she murmurs.
“How long have you been working here?”
“I started a month ago.”
I smile smoothly.
“No wonder we haven’t met. I’m Howie. Howie Bates.” My dick twitches even as I extend a hand. She’s so near I can almost taste her. My body calls out for the lush female. The perfect proportions have my mouth salivating, my dick twitching involuntarily in my pants. I can envision my cum dripping down the inside of her thighs. Fuck.
And the poor thing has no idea what I’m thinking because if she did, she’d sue for sexual harassment or some shit like that. Instead, the blonde smiles.
“I know.” Her voice is so soft as she clasps my hand. “Welcome home, Mr. Bates.”
The words move over her moist lips like poems, and my heart seizes. But I don’t want to hurt her. She’s so pretty. So young. So innocent.
“What’s a girl like you doing working a job like this?” I growl.
She blinks.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re … well, if I may be frank, you’re drop-dead gorgeous.” I scoot my chair towards her a bit, and inch closer to her with my feet. She’s blushing. She turns to leave, cheeks flushed, but I can tell she’s holding back a smile. “You’re too pretty to work on the floor like that,” is my rumble.
She turns to face me.
“Like what?” she asks, lowering her hands to her thighs. “What do you mean, Sir?”
The tight black maid’s dress is at the tips of her fingers. If she wanted to lift up her skirt and show me, she could. Oh shit. I’m dying for a glimpse of that tight little pussy, wet and puffy. My cock twitches in anticipation. Good thing my pants are black because cum is leaking onto the fabric front. She’s got to be able to see the bulge.
But I keep going like nothing’s wrong.
“In the living room. I saw you, on all fours on the floor.”
She blushes again as I smile wolfishly.
“Don’t be shy. Look, I know I’m being a little forward. It’s just that I’ve never seen anyone like you before,” I say simply. “Never.”
And slowly, I raise my hand. The need is too strong, and I reach out to trace the bottom of her skirt with my fingertip.
“Mr. Bates, I-”
“Never in my whole life have I seen someone as pretty as you,” I trace my finger onto the nylon of her thigh now. My digit moves a little ways under her skirt now, gentle and unassuming. “May I?” is my courteous question.
Of course, she doesn’t really have a choice. I’m a self-made billionaire who’s as handsome as fuck, while she’s the maid who literally works on her hands and knees in front of me, scrubbing the floor. Our positions are so imbalanced that there’s only one right answer.
Imperceptibly, the girl nods.
“Good,” I say with satisfaction. Slowly, I move my hand between her legs and slide it gently up her thigh. Oh shit. My hand’s approaching a furnace, she’s so hot. And as my fingers move slowly up that luscious flesh, I feel it then. This girl’s so wet that she’s leaked through the fabric of her panties.
Oh yell yeah. Just my type.
I slide my hand over that juice and squeeze lightly through the lace, savoring the puffy, full flesh. She lets out a moan.
“Mr. Bates, I- …” The girl pants helplessly, eyes wide as she teeters before me. Just then Albie calls from the kitchen.
“Lacy, we need you out here. The grocery delivery just showed up!”
Fuck this! Fuck Albie! But in response, I pull my hand back from her cunt and take a deep sniff of those female juices on my fingertips.
&
nbsp; “Lacy is it?” I grind out.
“Yes. That’s me.”
“Lacy, I’m going to need to see you in my private bathroom when you’re finished helping Albie. There is a stain in the grout, and maybe you can help me get it out. We’ll use special tools.”
She smiles and it’s like the heavens singing, sunshine streaming through the clouds to bathe me in a warm light. I can’t help it. I have to know.
“What’s a girl like you doing cleaning house anyway?” I ask again.
But Lacy has me wrapped around her little finger already. With a mysterious smile, she leaves my office without bothering to answer. I watch her ass sway back and forth as she moves across the room. Now my cock is really raging. I need to dump my hot jism in her sweet holes, panting as she cums on my dick.
And I guess this is a good thing because I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Not since I first enlisted. Not since the first days of basic training when I ran my body hard, hurtling over obstacles with a gun in hand and a fifty-pound pack on my back. I felt alive then. But the years of war took something from me, and I’m looking for that missing piece now.
Maybe she’s it. Maybe this Cinderella will bring my body back to life and make me whole once more. I don’t know. I hope so.