The Gift
After our first little adventure, Mrs Ashburn would do all sorts of things to me. I was still her maid, still on her payroll, but I also became her little toy. Out of the blue, she'd command me to do all sorts of strange things. Last week she told me to take a bubble bath while she watched. She ordered me about, telling me to rub soapy bubbles all over my breasts, to raise my legs and wash them slowly, to turn on the faucet and let it run between my legs, making me twitch and gasp. However, despite all these strange requests, I continued to come back. Any proper girl would have left screaming and running after our first exploit. But something kept pulling me back- I couldn't rationalise it, but before work every day I'd think to myself that this was the last time, and yet it never was. Her call made me quiver, and I was hopeless to resist her.
It was a Sunday. The Ashburn's were having some friends and family round for a barbecue and garden party, a light, post-church festivity. And yes, they went to church. Mr Ashburn was a happy go lucky family man- or tried to be, he wasn't at home much. His Christianity was the wholesome sort, he believed that God was taking care of him and his happy family. If only he knew what God was really seeing while he watched over his wife and I. Mrs Ashburn always went with him, though I suspect she wasn't a hard believer. And sometimes, like today, they'd have guests over afterwards, and the men would talk business and sports over the barbecue and the women would talk kids and stress over tall glasses of iced tea. Mrs Ashburn had asked me to help out, but part of me was reluctant. Nothing could possibly happen between us with all these people around. I was preparing vegetables and making pitchers of iced tea, cleaning up all the messes the scuttling kids would leave everywhere. It was a sticky, humid Sunday, and I could have been anywhere but here. I was cleaning up a spillage from a child's juice box when Mrs Ashburn floated into the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of water, not speaking to me, though I could feel her eyes watching me as I heard her gulp down the drink.
"It's too hot out. I'm going to change into something more comfortable. Help me pick a dress out, will you?"
"Of course, Miss."
I was so quick and eager to answer her call. I threw my cloth in the sink and rinsed my hands, scurrying after her up the stairs to the bedroom.
She locked the door behind us, smiling innocently.
"We wouldn't want anyone rushing in on us, would we?", she paused, smiled again. "Now, I have a gift for you. I want you to open it right now."
She opened her closet and pulled out a purple gift bag. She handed it to me, watching my eyes the whole time.
"Sit on the bed, open it."
I did as I was told. I pulled a wrapped box out of the gift bag. I couldn't guess what she would get me as a gift. After all, she knew almost nothing about my life. I unwrapped it slowly and saw that it was a clear plastic box. Inside was a massive, eight-inch pastel pink dildo. The box was adorned with stickers that said things like real feel and ultimate pleasure. I couldn't speak. What was I meant to say?
"A thank you would be nice."
"Thank you, Mrs Ashburn. But..."
"I want you to ride it while I wash up. You have until I'm all made up and ready to cum. And if you don't, I'll make you go back out to that party with no panties on. Understood?"
I gawped.
"Yes, Mrs Ashburn."
She took the package from me and removed the dildo. She then pulled out the chair from her dresser and stuck the dildo down on it, so that it sprung upwards like a menacing, beckoning challenge. I started to remove my clothes. I was wearing a blouse and yellow plaid skirt, because I knew that Mrs Ashburn liked to see me in more preppy clothes. No jeans or leggings allowed. I placed them on the bed, and began to unfasted my bra and work my panties down my legs. Once I stood naked, Mrs Ashburn came over to me and cupped one of my pale breasts. She began to squeeze and fondle it, and with the other hand she got to work pinching my other nipple. She smiled down at me, as though this was a dare. She stopped abruptly however, and smirked once more.
"Open your legs."
I did so, and her fingers went between them to stroke me.
"You're already soaking. Just as I thought. Now get to work, slut."
I made my way over to the chair. She had placed the dildo so that I could hold on to the back of the chair while I rode it. This was my first time doing such a thing, and I was nervous, though my body was clearly willing. The first time we were together, she had slid her whole hand inside me- the pain and pressure of it was something I had never experienced before. All of her tasks for me were like challenges- I never knew what to expect, and she shocked me every time. This time was no different. I was wet and eager, but I couldn't possibly fit this whole cock at once. She had left some lube on the dressing table, so I took a big squirt of it and massaged the whole cock, trying to make this as easy as possible. I positioned myself over the tip, and slowly began to lower myself down. The whole thing was unreasonably girthy. Mrs Ashburn had gone into her on suite, and I could hear the taps running. I wanted her to notice me. After all, I was doing this for her!
As I began to lower myself down, I let out a loud, gasping moan, hoping she'd re-enter the room. The dick was unbelievable- the searing pleasure of feeling it open me wide, my pussy gripping on for dear life. I went down slowly, almost all the way, until it was plush with my g-spot. I rose and fell again, this time to the base. It was deep in my guts; I felt its pressure far inside me in hard to reach places. With every thrust downwards I found myself grunting and gasping. Still, she did not come to watch me. I sped up, riding it faster now- it hurt in the best way possible, opening me deep and wide. How would I walk after this? What if I squirted again? The more mess the better. I wanted her to see. I wanted to ruin her nice little party. I rode the cock hard and fast, letting it punch into my pussy over and over again. It found my sweet spot, so began to ride it harder, wiggling up against the tip deep inside me. Mrs Ashburn was in for a treat. One hand still holding on to the chair for support, I massaged my breast with the other. I squeezed and pulled at it, and noticed that I had broken a sweat. I began to pinch my engorged nipple, thrusting harder and harder with every second. I could feel something building within me. I grabbed at my breasts, and then unable to resist it, reached between my legs and rubbed my clit furiously. My moans turned into elated ahhs, and I knew I was getting closer. I pumped the cock over and over, wanting more and more, letting the cock plunge as deep inside me as possible. I wriggled and yelped, flicking my clit with fervour and urgency, squeezing my breast until it was sure to be bruised. I felt a rising inside me, a spreading warmth, and with one last plunge down onto the cock, I came, squirt firing out of me furiously, my pussy shuddering against the hardness within me.
My juices were all over the chair, the floor, the insides of my thighs, my ass. I was in a puddle of my own orgasm. I flopped, exhausted, against the chair, the cock still resting within me. I heard the bathroom door open. In came Mrs Ashburn, all made up now, looking fresher than ever. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair floating about her ethereally. She smiled at me.
"You put on quite a show."
"Show? Were you... you were watching?"
"Of course. I never like to miss out. See that little glass jewellery box? I put a camera in there earlier. Now I can watch the whole thing over and over again. I'll show you if you like. Show you how eager you were to impress me."
She giggled delightedly. I'd never seen her laugh before. Not for me. I'd see her toss her hair and chortle for guests, but this was real. She was getting off on this. She smiled down at me again, and then put her hands on my waist, and lifted me. The cock slid from me loudly, and I saw the full effect of my mess. I could barely stand. My legs were jelly. I leaned into her hands for support and looked up into her face. Her smile this time was calm and ever so lightly proud. You could say affectionate.
"Good girl. Now let's get back to this nonsense downstairs."