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Message-ID: <28755asstr$981375004@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Maria1971@aol.com
Subject: {ASSM} RP The Maid - Maria Gonzales
Date: Mon,  5 Feb 2001 07:10:04 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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<1st attachment, "THE_MAID.TXT" begin>

If you aren't 18, or 21 if you live in a backwards
place, then go away : )

This story is copyrighted by the writer formerly known
as Maria Gonzales, AKA M-Go. Copyright 2001. Send me an
E-mail at Maria1971@aol.com and/or visit my web site
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/MariaGonzales/www

The Maid

by Maria Gonzales

, 1999-2000 - All Rights Reserved. Any use of this work 
without the author's written permission is strictly 
forbidden.

John looked around the hotel room and frowned, every 
hotel room looked the same. Sure, the pictures on the 
wall were new, the layout of the room changed; though 
the air fresheners were different, the empty feeling 
never disappeared.

Whenever he had an extended stay at a hotel, he always 
felt entrapped by the sameness of the rooms. With a 
sigh, John plugged his laptop into the wall, and banged 
away on the keyboard, working on his newest novel.

Working on a chapter that he couldn't seem to get 
right, John was surprised to find himself inspired. The 
words seem to flow; the faster he typed, the faster the 
plot seemed to form itself on the monitor in front of 
him.

As he typed, he heard a light knock on the door and an 
almost whispered voice say, "Housekeeping."

He glanced at the door and realized that he had 
absentmindedly forgotten to put the "Do not disturb" 
sign out. Already interrupted, he decided to let the 
maid in. "Come in," he announced.

The door opened and he turned his attention back to the 
computer. Ignoring the maid, he continued to type 
rapidly.

"Excuse me," the maid said with a Spanish accent and 
pointing at her vacuum.

He stopped typing, deciding to take what he called a 
"brain break." He walked down the hall to a Coke 
machine, put in a dollar bill and pushed the bright red 
button. Opening the can, he returned to his room. As he 
opened the door, he collided with the maid as she 
backed out of the room, dragging the vacuum behind her. 
The Coke spilled onto his shirt and the back of the 
maid's blouse.

"I'm sorry," she said embarrassedly.

"No, it was my fault," he replied.

The maid grabbed a clean towel from her cart and rubbed 
the stain on his shirt. "No, it's okay. I can put on 
another one." John said as he looked at the dull brown 
stain.

"Sorry. I no speak mucho Ingl s," she said. "You give 
me shirt? I clean."

"It's not a problem," he answered. "No problemo," he 
added.

"Si hay problema," she answered, smiling at his attempt 
to speak Spanish. "I take shirt. One hour I bring. 
Okay?"

"And your uniform? Let me pay to clean it." John said, 
raising his voice and pointing at her blouse as he 
reached for his wallet.

The maid looked down at her blouse then looked back at 
John, a confused expression on her face. Finally, she 
smiled and answered. "No, uniform no problemo." She 
laughed as she mimicked his attempt to speak Spanish. 
"You give shirt. One hour I bring. Okay?"

"No, it's fine. I can just put on another one."

The maid responded by putting her hands on his shirt, 
unbuttoning the top buttons. Surprised by her action, 
John jumped back and said. "Okay, I'll give you the 
shirt. Wait right here." He walked to the closet and 
picked out a fresh shirt. Putting it on, he returned to 
the maid and handed her the stained one.

"One hour. I bring," she said shyly.

John watched her leave, paying attention to what seemed 
an extra bit of wiggle in her hips. As she stepped into 
the elevator, he softly closed the door and returned to 
his computer.

Isabel walked down the hall to the service elevator, 
the handsome guest's shirt in her hand. Pressing the 
button for the basement, she tapped her toes 
impatiently waiting for the elevator to reach her 
destination.

The elevator doors finally opened, and she walked 
toward the laundry.

"Hey, Jose," she said in perfect English. "I spilled 
Coke on a customer's shirt. Can you clean it for me in 
an hour?"

"I can wash it, Isabel, but you'll have to press it 
yourself. Be back in forty-five minutes. Just put it on 
the counter," shouted a voice from the back.

She walked to the employees' locker room; since her 
shift was over, she changed into her normal clothes, 
denim shorts and a white shirt, tying the shirt at her 
rib cage. Reaching into her locker, she pulled out a 
college textbook, taking notes as she read the 
textbook. Finished studying, Isabel glanced up at the 
clock, put her book away and returned to the laundry 
room.

"The shirt's over there Isabel. You'll have to press it 
by hand though."

"Thanks, Jose."

She quickly pressed it and put it on a white hanger. 
Placing a plastic bag over it, she stepped to the 
elevator and made her way back to John's room.

Again, John reached a point in his novel that he 
couldn't seem to get past. He wrote the same sentence 
ten times; none of them sounded right. Deciding to stop 
writing for the night, he connected his computer to the 
room's modem port to check his E-mail.

The first message was from his publisher, pushing his 
meeting back another day. He glanced through the rest 
of the E-mail, most of it fan mail asking about his 
next book or complimenting one of his older ones. Not 
in the mood to answer the fan mail, he read through the 
messages and saved them to his computer one by one. 
Reaching the last message, he read it and saw that it 
had some kind of file attached to it. He clicked the 
download button and leaned into his chair.

Again he heard a knock at the door, John looked at the 
clock and realized that it must be the maid returning 
his shirt. He opened the door, surprised to see her 
dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a shirt tied to 
show off her midriff.

She smiled at him, held up his neatly pressed shirt and 
said, "See, one hour."

"Thank you," he said, pulling out his wallet again. 
"How much do I owe you?"

"No, no," she told him as she walked past him toward 
the closet.

"I have to give you something. At least let me pay for 
the cleaning of your uniform."

"Sorry, no speak Ingl,s," she replied hanging his shirt 
in the closet. Turning, she glanced at his computer and 
giggled embarrassedly.

"What?" John asked. He walked to his computer, 
surprised to see a picture of a topless woman wearing, 
or almost wearing a French maid costume. "No, it's not 
mine," he said as his face turned red. "Somebody sent 
it to me. Oh, never mind, you can't understand me 
anyway. I could tell you that you are a very beautiful 
woman with a gorgeous body and how much I would love to 
fuck you and you wouldn't understand a word. Here," he 
continued, pulling out a ten-dollar bill. "Let me pay 
for the uniform," he said pointing at her.

Isabel looked at the ten-dollar bill then at him. "No 
fuck ten dollars. No fuck para money."

John's face turned even redder and he stuttered, "No, 
no, you misunderstood. Not for fuck, I mean not for 
that, ten dollars for the uniform."

The maid smiled at him coquettishly, "No fuck ten 
dollar. No ten dollar para uniform. No problemo. Hasta 
ma ana, papito," Isabel said with a smile as she walked 
out the door.

Isabel smiled as she left the room. Once she was safely 
in the elevator, she burst into laughter, remembering 
the expression on his face when she pretended to 
understand only the word 'fuck' from his little speech. 
Reaching her locker, she pulled out one of her uniform 
skirts and folded it, putting it neatly into her 
backpack.

Leaving through the employee entrance of the hotel, she 
headed toward her bus stop, stopping at a cleaners on 
the other side of the street. Walking in, she heard a 
buzzer sound, and soon an older Oriental gentleman 
approached her behind the counter.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"I need a skirt shortened by tomorrow, is that enough 
time?"

"We can have it for you by tomorrow."

She pulled the skirt out of her backpack, and set it 
onto the counter.

"How much do you need it shortened?"

Isabel grabbed the skirt again, and held it up to her 
waist. With her free hand, she folded the material over 
to about where she thought would be right. "This should 
be okay."

"That short? Why don't you try it on?"

"Do you think it's gonna be too short?"

"If you make it that short, most men would think it was 
perfect, but you might think it's too short. Why don't 
you put it on, you can change in there," he said 
pointing to a door.

"Thanks," she replied. She stepped into the changing 
room, and peeled off her shorts. Pulling the skirt over 
her hips, she looked in the mirror to where she had 
creased the material and had to admit that it would 
have been too short. She smoothed the material, and 
walked out.

"Come over here in front of the mirror," said the 
attendant.

She approached him. Once in front of the mirror, she 
folded the material over the middle of her thigh. "Like 
this. Thanks, you were right."

The man pushed some straight pins into the skirt and 
Isabel walked back into the changing room and changed 
into her shorts. Once at the counter, she asked him, "I 
need it early, though. Can you have it ready by noon? I 
need to pick it up during my lunch break."

"Noon? Okay," he replied, handing her a receipt. She 
walked out the door with a quick thank-you, and waited 
for her bus.

John woke up late the next morning, knowing that he 
would be staying at the hotel another four or five 
days. This was supposed to be a quick trip to meet with 
his publisher and his agent, but his editor kept 
pushing back his appointment. Luckily, or rather 
unluckily, he had nobody waiting for him at home, so he 
just stayed in his room, working on his new novel.

He rewrote the same sentence that antagonized him the 
day before another ten times before giving up. Deciding 
that he was thirsty, he headed for the Coke machine. 
When opened his door, he glanced down the hall and saw 
the maid from the day before grab some sheets from her 
cart and go into a room. Changing his mind about the 
Coke, he closed his door and returned to his room.

Isabel worked her way down the hall, changing the 
sheets and emptying the trash cans in the rooms. In the 
room before John's, she unbuttoned the top buttons of 
her blouse and adjusted her shortened skirt. She 
reached room 306 and knocked on the door. 
"Housekeeping," she announced. When he didn't answer, 
she felt disappointed. She had been looking forward to 
teasing him again.

The maid opened the door, walked into the room and 
found John sitting at the desk looking over his 
computer. "Sorry," She told him with a coquettish 
smile, "I come later."

"No, that's okay. Go ahead," he answered, using his 
hands to help explain what he meant.

Isabel quickly vacuumed the carpet and returned to her 
cart for fresh linens. She reentered the room, and 
stripped the dirty sheets from the bed. As she made the 
bed, she bent at her waist, hoping that he would look 
at her thighs. Earlier, she examined herself in front 
of a mirror and knew that he would be able to see to 
the top of the black thigh highs that she had put on 
for him. Making her way to the other side of the bed, 
she bent over and felt her breasts nearly fall out of 
her pushup bra and the top of her blouse.

She glanced at him in the mirror, hiding her smile as 
she watched him stare at her. Finished with making the 
bed, she carried the dirty linens to her cart in the 
hall.  John sat at the desk, typing away on the laptop 
when she approached the him. "Excuse me," she said as 
she bent onto one knee to pick up the wastebasket next 
to him.

Isabel knew that he could look straight down her 
blouse; she could feel herself getting aroused, a 
familiar heat building between her legs. She stayed 
down for a second longer than necessary, letting him 
have a good look at her breasts as they spilled out of 
her bra. She stood, stumbling, putting her hand out to 
catch herself and it landed on his upper thigh. 
Pretending to be embarrassed, she looked into his eyes 
and whispered, "Sorry," as John sighed softly. As she 
removed her hand from his thigh, her fingers brushed 
against his erection and her breast rubbed against his 
leg. John smiled at her, pretending not to notice her 
touch. Isabel replaced the liner in the can, and walked 
out of the room, shutting the door gently behind her.

John watched the maid walk out of his hotel room. As 
the door closed behind her, his hand went to his 
erection. He stood, locked the door, and walked to the 
bed. Replaying in his mind the show that he had just 
gotten from the maid, he pulled his pants down and 
played with his hard cock.

The way that she had moved, the glimpses she gave of 
her body played in his mind as he masturbated. Closing 
his eyes, he visualized everything as if it were 
happening again, her warm hand on his thigh, her 
fingers brushing against his cock, her breast grazing 
his leg.

As his orgasm built, he opened his eyes and looked at 
the door. The maid stood there, her eyes focused on his 
hard cock. When she realized he knew she was there, she 
whispered an apology. As she spoke, his orgasm peaked 
and his come shot into the air.

Isabel watched him, entranced by the scene. As he 
orgasmed, she noticed how high he spurted, amazed at 
how much come came out of his cock. Before he could 
compose himself, she closed the door and went into the 
next room. John cleaned up, thought about finding the 
maid and apologizing, but realized that she wouldn't 
understand anyway. He hopped into the shower, the look 
on her face as he orgasmed locked into his head.

Isabel fought the urge to masturbate. In every room she 
entered, she wanted to lie on the bed and make herself 
come, but she had to finish her rounds first. 
Occasionally, her supervisor checked up on her, and she 
couldn't imagine how embarrassed she would be if he 
found her with her legs spread open and her hands 
between her legs.

Quickly finishing her rounds, Isabel rode the elevator 
to the basement. She sat in front of her locker, and 
again picked up her skirt, folding it as she put it 
into her backpack. Returning to the cleaners, she told 
the clerk that she needed the skirt shortened some 
more. Instead of trying it on again, she simply told 
him, "Shorten it two more inches. Can you have it ready 
for me tomorrow?"

The clerk handed her another receipt, cocking his 
eyebrow as she turned to leave. Isabel took it from 
him, walked out of the store, and ran to catch her bus.

John woke early the next morning and called his 
publisher to see when their meeting would take place. 
Not able to talk to anybody who knew anything, he sent 
a quick E-mail, telling his editor to take his time.

He went downstairs to the gym and had a nice workout, 
then swam a couple laps in the pool. Returning to his 
room around noon, he stayed in his swim trunks and 
checked his E-mail. Nothing from his editor, but he 
looked at the clock with a smile; the maid should be in 
any minute to make her rounds. He sat in front of his 
computer, not in the mood to write and played a 
computer golf game.

Isabel worked her way toward room 306. In room 304, she 
pulled off her skirt and put on the short one she had 
picked up at the cleaners during her lunch, then she 
stripped off her blouse and removed her bra. After she 
had finished changing outfits, she bent over in front 
of the mirror to see how high her skirt moved on her 
thighs. Her tiny thong appeared as the skirt rose up 
her leg, her bare butt completely on display. Through 
the thin material of her blouse, her areola were 
clearly visible and the points of her nipples formed 
two visible bumps in the material. Satisfied with her 
appearance, Isabel peeked out the door, walked down the 
hall to John's room and knocked, ready to tease him 
some more. She wasn't sure who enjoyed her shows more, 
him or her.

"Housekeeping!" she announced.

"Come in," he replied.

Isabel entered the room and smiled at him. Ignoring 
him, she went through the same motions as the day 
before, but knew that he could see almost her entire 
body. She fought the urge to strip off her clothes and 
yell at him to fuck her, but instead avoided his gaze 
as she showed him her nearly naked body.

Finished with the bed and vacuuming, she approached him 
at the desk. Instead of kneeling as she did the day 
before, she bent over at the waist. As she looked into 
the garbage can, she could feel his eyes peeking into 
her blouse at her bare breasts. Staying in that 
position for just a second longer, she looked at him 
and smiled.

As John stared down the maid's blouse, he looked at the 
curve of her braless breasts and at her tight stomach. 
As he willed the blouse to move just a little more so 
he could see more than just a hint of her nipples, he 
moved his eyes to her face and realized that she was 
smiling at him.

She stood abruptly and walked to the door, wiggling her 
hips, knowing that he was looking straight at her butt. 
She pretended to notice something on the floor, and as 
she bent over to pick it up, she though she heard him 
sigh.

As the door closed behind the maid, John looked down at 
his swim trunks, noticing the wet spot that had formed. 
He went straight into the shower and masturbated. The 
visions of her nearly bare breasts inches from his 
face, her beautiful ass exposed to him, her privates 
barely covered by a thin thong as she bent over, all of 
those images cascaded through his mind as he climaxed.

Isabel made it to the next room and locked the door. 
She rubbed her clitoris gently and fell back onto the 
bed, writhing and groaning with pleasure as she 
climaxed.

John stepped out of the shower and heard a soft noise 
from the next room. Not sure if it was his imagination, 
he put his ear to the wall and listened to a woman moan 
in ecstasy.

Isabel walked out the employee's door of the hotel and 
returned to the cleaners. She smiled at the old man 
behind the counter and said, "I need it just a little 
bit shorter."

"If we cut too much more off it, it won't be a skirt 
anymore," He said as returned her smile. "How much do 
you need it shortened today?"

"I need to try it on," she answered as she stepped by 
him and walked to the dressing room. She stripped off 
her shorts and pulled the skirt over her hips. A sly 
smile appeared on her face and she pulled off the 
thong.

The old man waited for her by the mirror, smiling at 
her as she approached. Isabel folded the material of 
the skirt up, just below her butt. "Can you pin it like 
that so I can see what it looks like?" She asked with a 
mischievous smile.

The old man pinned the skirt and raised his eyebrows as 
he stared at her bare butt. Working toward the front of 
the skirt, he let his hand touch the inside of her 
thigh. Not getting any protest, he let it linger, 
enjoying the feel of his pretty customer's smooth skin.

She smiled down at him and moved in front of the 
mirror. She turned, faced the old man as she bent at 
her waist and examined herself in the mirror. The skirt 
slid up her thighs, past the bottom of her bare ass. 
She stood again, adjusted the skirt, twirled and felt 
the skirt flare up. She smiled at the old man and told 
him, "Make it about half an inch shorter than you have 
it pinned."

"The customer is always right," he answered. He waited 
for her to reenter the dressing room before he stood 
and readjusted himself.

Isabel handed him the skirt, took the receipt, smiled 
at the old man as she walked out the door, and waited 
on the corner for her bus.

John smashed the snooze button on the alarm for the 
fifth time before waking up. He took a long shower, 
masturbating to another orgasm as he thought about the 
curvy maid. He pulled on the robe provided by the 
hotel, sat in front of his computer and glared at the 
words he had written the day before. Deleting 
everything, he started over. After writing the opening 
sentence, he gave in to his writer's block, leaned back 
in his chair and heard the roar of the vacuum from the 
room next to his.

Isabel finished vacuuming room 304, left the vacuum 
next to her cart and grabbed the skirt hidden under the 
towels. Returning to the empty room, she stripped off 
her clothes down to her thong and pulled the tiny skirt 
over her hips. As she fastened the bottom two buttons 
of the blouse, she examined herself in the mirror. The 
hem of the skirt fell just below her butt and the 
blouse opened at the bottom of her ribs. The curves of 
her braless breasts were completely exposed, only her 
nipples hidden by the blouse, but they were clearly 
visible through the thin material. Taking a deep 
breath, she pulled off the thong and walked into the 
hallway, hiding her clothes underneath the sheets. 
Glancing in both directions and deciding that it was 
safe, she walked to room 306.

She knocked on the door, and announced, "Housekeeping!"

"Come in," John replied.

Taking another deep breath, Isabel opened the door and 
stepped in. She glanced at John with a coquettish smile 
and walked to the bed. Pulling off the used sheets, she 
felt the cool air on her hot slit as she bent over. 
Without looking at him, she returned to the hall and 
collected the clean sheets from her cart. Returning to 
the room, she glanced at him and smiled when she 
noticed the rather large bump in his robe.

She went to the bed and tucked in the sheets, feeling 
the guest's eyes on her bare butt. She went to the 
opposite corner, glanced in his direction and smiled at 
him, her eyes glancing down at his opened robe. He 
slowly stroked his hard cock and looked into her eyes. 
She stood and unbuttoned the two buttons holding her 
blouse together, exposing her breasts, her nipples 
quickly hardening in the cool air. Somehow, she 
finished making the bed, but as she turned to walk to 
her cart, she fell onto the bed. Opening her legs, she 
pushed her finger into her wet pussy and watched him as 
he masturbated.

John approached the nearly naked maid and stood above 
her. She moaned uncontrollably as she rubbed her pussy 
and looked into his eyes. Her body shook violently, her 
hand blurred as she rapidly rubbed her clitoris and 
climaxed with a loud scream. As he looked into her lust 
filled eyes and stroked his cock, he climaxed, watching 
helplessly as his come sprayed all over the maid's 
body.

Isabel felt the warm cum spray onto her stomach and 
breasts. Calming down from her intense orgasm, she 
smiled at him and rubbed a drop of cum into her breast. 
As she stood and licked her finger, she looked into his 
eyes and said, "I come later. One hour? I no work one 
hour."

John watched her calmly button her blouse and answered. 
"I think that you just came, but if you want to come 
again, I'll be waiting for you," he said with a 
satisfied smile.

Isabel walked to him, kissed him on the cheek, and 
said, "One hour I come." She opened the door and 
glanced in both directions before hurriedly grabbing 
her normal uniform from the cart. She walked quickly to 
the next room, cleaned herself up and changed uniforms.

John crashed onto the bed and closed his eyes. The maid 
had told him that she would be back in one hour and he 
couldn't wait. If only she could understand him or if 
he could understand her better. He walked to his 
computer and searched for a translating service on the 
Internet. Finding one, he entered a few phrases that he 
thought might come in handy and printed them.

Isabel hurriedly finished her rounds. After stowing her 
supplies, she sat in front of her locker, grabbed her 
backpack and took the service elevator to the third 
floor. Using her pass key, she entered the vacant room 
next to his, smiling to herself as she stripped off her 
clothes. She opened the door, saw a couple walking to 
their room and closed the door quickly. After giving 
the couple enough time to make it to their room, she 
again glanced out. She ran to room 306 and knocked 
gently on the door, hoping that nobody would walk into 
the hall as she stood naked outside the door. 
"Housekeeping," she announced.

John heard the knock, quickly grabbed his translated 
phrases and opened the door. His mouth dropped when he 
saw the maid standing in the hall wearing nothing but a 
smile.

She walked in, pretending that everything was normal 
and sat on the edge of the bed. "Hola, papito. One 
hour. I come now." She said using her best broken 
English.

"Eres muy hermosa," he replied in Spanish.

She laughed playfully and replied in perfect English 
"Thank you, and you are very handsome. Are you going to 
fuck me now or just speak bad Spanish?"

John stared at the sexy maid, his mouth open in shock 
at her perfect English, "but I thought..."

"If you don't step over here, I'm gonna go over there 
and make you fuck me, so shut up, get over here and 
fuck me. I need your cock inside me and I need it now. 
I told you that in an hour I would come again, and 
that's why I'm here, to come again and again, but this 
time I want to feel your cock inside me."

Not needing to be told twice, John approached her. 
Sitting next to her on the bed, her hand pressed on his 
chest causing him to fall back onto the bed. Isabel 
opened his robe, wrapped her fingers around his cock 
and slowly pumped it up and down. Closing his eyes, he 
felt her moist lips wrap around the head of his cock 
and gasped as she pushed it into her mouth.

The maid paused for a second, looked at him and said, 
"By the way, my name is Isabel."

Her mouth returned to his cock, as she softly sucked on 
it, John replied, "I'm mmm... John."

Isabel removed her mouth from his cock and quickly 
moved on top of him. Placing a knee on each side of 
him, she grabbed his cock and guided it into her wet 
pussy. As the head of his cock slid into her, she 
sighed loudly and pushed it completely into her pussy.

"Nice to meet you, John. I'm sorry I told you I 
couldn't speak English, but it makes it... mmm... 
easier to ignore customers that try to pick me up," she 
told him as she pulled his cock slowly out of her.

"Usted tiene bonita tetas," John said remembering one 
of the phrases that he found on the Internet.

"Don't speak Spanish. You don't speak it very well." 
She cupped her breasts with her hands and continued, "I 
like my boobs too. Of course it would be nice if they 
were just a little bigger. Ooh," she said with a moan, 
"your cock is perfect for me, not too big, not too 
small."

John couldn't believe the conversation they were 
having, but followed her lead. "A little bigger would 
be better, I mean for my cock, not your tits. They're 
perfect."

"Mmm, no, your cock is the perfect size. Wow, this 
feels so good. I've been walking around so horny the 
last couple of days. Teasing you really turned me on."

"Do you do it often?"

"What? Fuck or tease?" Isabel asked as she slowly slid 
his cock back into her pussy.

"Both. I mean do you tease all of the hotel guests?"

"No, you're the first, and you're the first that I've 
fucked too. So no, I don't do this often. Mmm. You 
probably think that I'm such a slut. Mmm, your cock 
feels so good." Isabel increased her pace, bouncing on 
him, moaning whenever his cock brushed her clitoris.

"Why would I think that?" he answered, panting as he 
tried to thrust up into her.

"I'm normally not like this," she said as she bent 
forward, her breasts rubbing against his chest. "Wow, I 
can feel your cock rub against my clit like this." She 
moaned contentedly. "You're only the third guy I've 
ever slept with. Mmm. I'm going to come soon. Mmm. I 
guess I'm just too picky. Mmm yes, that feels so... 
mmm. At school, guys are always trying to pick me up, 
but I haven't dated anybody for almost... Oh, I'm 
almost there... two years and I haven't done this since 
ooh, since mmm... since..."

Isabel moaned as her orgasm overtook her. Bouncing on 
top of him as fast as she could, she screamed in 
ecstasy, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh my! Mmm..."

She collapsed on top of him and rolled over onto the 
bed. John carefully rolled on top of her and pushed his 
cock back into her pussy. He pumped her furiously as 
her orgasm continued. He watched her breasts bounce and 
he somehow found a way to fuck her faster. He looked 
into her face, amazed at the look of pure lust in her 
eyes. His cock twitched, and as he continued to drive 
his cock into the maid, his orgasm began. His hips 
pushed erratically against her, and his hot come filled 
her. He lowered himself onto the bed next to her, 
feeling her arms reach around him and her lips press 
passionately against his.

Absentmindedly, he played with her nipples and felt her 
hand tickle his balls. Their lips met and they 
passionately kissed. His cock hardened again as she 
softly played with it. The maid gently broke their 
kiss, turned onto her stomach, moved to the end of the 
bed and pushed herself onto her hands and knees.

Standing next to the bed, John pushed his hard cock 
into her. Isabel moaned uncontrollably as his cock slid 
into her pussy. "Wow, you got hard again fast," she 
said. "If you're not careful, you'll have to fuck me 
all weekend. I don't have to work or go to class until 
Monday."

"I don't have anything to do all weekend."

"You promise to fuck me whenever I want?" she asked.

"Uh-huh."

"Can you help me with mmm, like that, do it like 
that... my paper that I... mmm... have to turn in on 
Monday?"

"I majored in literature."

"Mmm, harder, fuck me harder," Isabel moaned. John 
moved his hips as fast as he could, driving his hard 
cock into her, feeling his orgasm build. "Mmm... like 
that, mmm... I'm com... mmm... coming..."

Isabel screamed uncontrollably, her shrieks of ecstasy 
bringing John to orgasm. He groaned loudly as he came 
inside her. They collapsed on the bed together and 
Isabel put her leg over his thigh and rested her head 
on his chest. After she had composed herself, Isabel 
turned to him and asked, "Did you really major in 
English Lit.?"

"Yeah."

"Good, then after you fuck me one more time, you can 
help me write my paper."

"What's the paper for?"

"For my Contemporary American Writers class."

"What book?"

" Searching the Soul by John Waterson. Have you read 
it? It's really amazing."

John laughed out loud and answered, "I might be able to 
help; I wrote it."

END


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