========
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Mike29 Newhart MF MF MMMF FF
From: fr582@cleveland.Freenet.Edu (Max S. Wojtylak)
Date: 5 Jul 1996 20:15:16 GMT



NEWHART: The Made Maid

By Uncle Mike


     "Stephanie, I never said you weren't pretty. I just said that 
some men prefer, well, different types of women." Joanna 
grunted as she lifted a sack of potatoes from the car. "You 
can't expect every man to drool over you."

     Stephanie continued to sort through the brown grocery 
bags, searching for the one with lightest load. "And why not, 
Joanna? You don't really expect me to believe those boys were 
looking at you in THAT way, do you?"

     Joanna, a tall, slim woman of about 40, pushed a wisp of 
hair away from her face with the back of her hand as she 
leaned against the door of the inn she and her husband ran. As 
usual, she wore simple clothes -- a bright wool sweater and 
a pair of brown slacks. The clothes weren't sexy themselves, 
but the way Joanna filled them out gave them a special 
appeal. The horizontally striped pattern of the sweater 
accented the swell of her large breasts, and the curve of the 
slacks hinted at the long legs and tight ass beneath them.

     She paused a few moments to get her breath back -- she 
had made 10 trips back and forth from the car to Stephanie's 
one -- before turning to the young maid. The irritation in her 
voice was barely veiled. "Stephanie, why can't you admit that 
those boys were whistling at me? They were looking right at 
me. It's not the first time that's ever happened to me, you 
know."

     Stephanie faced Joanna, hands on hips. She was shorter 
and clearly much younger, with a pert, expertly made-up face 
and a halo of blond hair. The short, cream skirt she wore 
showed off her perfectly shaped legs, and it was clear from 
the outline of her white blouse that she was in excellent 
shape, although her breasts were certainly not as large as the 
older woman's. Her coral-pink lips were drawn into a pout as 
she spoke. "I'm sure," she said, her voice dripping with 
sarcasm. "The bag boys probably want you to have their babies 
all the time. But I still say the ones who whistled were 
aiming at me. They must have just been looking at you to 
figure out if -- oh, I don't know, to figure out if you were my 
mom or something. Let's face it, Joanna, you're no spring 
chicken."

     With an exaggerated sigh, Joanna pushed past the younger 
girl and picked another bag from the trunk. "Let's just forget 
it, Stephanie."

     The maid fished a bag out of the back seat; it contained 
only potato chips and a loaf of white bread. She trailed 
Joanna to the back door, waiting while the other woman put 
down her load of canned goods and opened the screen door. 

     A few minutes later, when they were both busy putting 
stuff away, Stephanie started up the argument again. "I just 
think it's time you faced the facts, Joanna," she said. "A girl 
like me -- beautiful, slim, young, rich -- I can get any man I 
want. They would be lined up 12 deep at my bedroom door if I 
didn't make it clear I wasn't interested. Why, you know, that's 
probably why those boys weren't looking at me! They saw that 
I was too good for them, so they were afraid to look me in the 
eye when they whistled." She nodded her head to punctuate 
the thought.

     Joanna stretched to put some beans on a top shelf. Over 
her shoulder, she said, "You can believe what you want, 
Stephanie. But we both know that a lot of men like a woman 
with more, well, more development. I've had my share of wolf 
whistles. With this chest, I have to expect it."

     She gathered up several boxes of cereal -- pointedly 
holding them in a basket of her arms, presenting her breasts 
as if on a platter. "And let's face it, Stephanie. You're young 
and pretty, but you just don't have the shape that a lot of men 
want."

     The young maid's eyes blazed, but she didn't say a word. 
Turning abruptly on her heel, she stomped out of the kitchen. 
Joanna called after her to no avail; with a sigh, she finished 
putting away the groceries herself.

   ===   ===   ===   ===

     Dick Loudon was typing away in his den, writing another 
epic of home improvement, when he heard a soft tap at the 
door. Before he could call out, Stephanie slipped inside and 
shut the door behind her with a click.

     He looked his question at her over the tops of his half-
frame glasses. Stephanie batted her long eyelashes. "Now, 
Dick, I know you're busy with that writing thing you do, so 
you just go right ahead. Hee-hee -- that was a joke, wasn't 
it? Go "write" ahead? Get it?" 

     Dick glared at her. He was a very ordinary man, with 
thinning grayish hair, an unexceptional body and the perpetual 
look that said he wasn't sure what was going on but whatever 
it was he wanted nothing to do with it. His angry looks could 
be distinguished from his happy ones mostly by counting the 
number of wrinkles in his forehead.

     "Stephanie," he said patiently, "I'm in the middle of a 
chapter here. The grout has just been applied and I have to 
tell them what to do next or it'll set and there'll be hell to 
pay. Can this wait until later?"

     From behind her back, Stephanie flourished a feather 
duster. "Just doing some cleaning," she said. "Forget I'm even 
here."

     With that she set to work. That in itself was enough to 
make Dick suspicious, but she seemed to be serious about it. 
He went back to his typewriter.

     From time to time, in between paragraphs, he looked up to 
see the maid busily going about her job. Once he saw her 
reaching high to dust some of the books on a top shelf. As she 
reached, the hem of her skirt lifted and Dick admired the 
long, shapely line of her legs; with her standing on tiptoe, the 
sexy curve of her ankle was emphasized. Another time she 
reached down to a bottom shelf and Dick looked up just in 
time to see a very sexy ass waving in his face. He felt a 
stirring in his crotch that he ignored.

     The next time he looked up she was nowhere in sight. But 
for a faint swishing sound behind him, he would have thought 
Stephanie had left the room. Without another thought for her, 
Dick went on typing.

     In a few minutes he became aware of a faint floral smell, 
a scent he knew from long familiarity was Stephanie's 
perfume -- a personal blend she had a shop in Paris make up 
for her, she'd said once. Alerted to her presence, he wasn't 
startled when she began speaking.

     "There," she said, "just about finished. And I didn't 
interrupt your typing, did I?"

     Dick shook his head, keeping his eyes on the page as he 
tapped out the end of a sentence.

     As he poked a finger at the period key, he felt a gentle 
pressure on his shoulders.

     "Ooooh, you look very tense," Stephanie cooed. "How about 
a nice neck massage?"

     Without turning to look at her, Dick frowned. "What is it, 
Stephanie?"

     "What's what, Dick?"

     "What are you asking for?"

     "I don't know what you mean."

     "Stephanie, you haven't dusted this room in six weeks. And 
you've never given me a neck massage. C-c-c-come to think of 
it, no one's ever given me -- a little more to the left. That's 
it."

     Her probing fingers erased the concern from his mind and 
Dick closed his eyes and sagged back against the chair. She 
was very good at his, he noticed; he could feel the tension 
draining out of him as she rubbed away at his neck and 
shoulders.

     "There's a little teensy-weensy knot right here," Stephanie 
said, rubbing hard at a spot just below his right shoulder 
blade. "I think I need to get a little closer to it. Do you mind?" 
As she spoke, her hands slipped around Dick's sides and she 
unbuttoned his shirt. He leaned forward a bit to help her pull 
it down, and then settled back again as she went to work on 
the trouble spot. Her hands felt warm on his flesh as she 
kneaded away. 

     "Th-th-that's perfect," Dick sighed. Stephanie then began 
scratching his back with her long nails. Little shivers of 
delight rolled like waves through his body. He was so lost in 
pleasure that he didn't really notice when her hands strayed 
from his back and began tracing a path across his stomach, 
down to his belt buckle. It was only when Stephanie undid the 
buckle, simultaneously slipping a hot, wet tongue into his 
ear, that Dick came to with a start.

     "St-st-stephanie, wh-wh-what are you doing?" She had 
undone his pants and slid down the zipper before he could get 
a grip on the desk's edge and spin himself around. When he had 
spun halfway around, his feet slammed into the floor, 
stopping the twist abruptly.

     Stephanie stood before him almost completely naked, clad 
only in a lacy white garter belt, sheer white hose and her 
shiny high heels. Her perky young breasts stood out firm and 
erect, with the dainty aureoles capped by perfect nipples. Her 
lips were parted slightly, forming a pout that seemed much 
sexier than Dick had ever noticed it being before.

     Before he could say another word, she stepped toward him. 
"Touch me, Dick," she commanded in a husky whisper. "I want 
you. I want you now."

     "You want m-m-m-m-m-me?" 

     "You know I do," she said, and pointed at his crotch. "And 
you want me, too." He couldn't deny it. His boxers were tented 
high as his stiff cock strained at the restriction. Dick licked 
his lips and stared. She seemed too good to be true, all that 
lush young flesh. It was like a dream.

     He didn't know what to do first, but Stephanie took his 
hands in hers and brought them to her breasts. 

     "Do you like my breasts, Dick? Are they big enough for 
you? They're not too small, are they?"

     "No! They're -- they're perfect." He squeezed them, 
thrilling to their firmness. She had the tits of a teenager, and 
it had been a long time -- well, actually, he'd never felt a 
teenager's tits.

     As he groped, Stephanie tugged his shorts down, freeing 
his cock to wave in the air like a fat flagpole. At her touch he 
shied away, but she gently placed both hands around his shaft. 
Her touch was warm and soft; her hands had obviously never 
done hard labor. Dick felt a few drops of pre-cum ooze out the 
tip as she caressed his rod.

     "That's a very nice cock you have, Dick," Stephanie 
whispered. "I like men with nice, big, hard cocks. Do you know 
what I like to do when I get one? Do you?"

     "N-n-no," he stammered out, his eyes still fastened to her 
chest.

     "Ooooh, I like to touch it, like this. I like to rub my hands 
up and down and feel that nice, hard cock rubbing against my 
fingers. And do you know what else I like to do?"

     He could only shake his head.

     "I like to lick that long, stiff cock all over with my hot 
tongue. And then I like to put that cock in my mouth and suck 
on it, up and down, until it spurts out cum all over my face."

     As she talked, Stephanie continued to rub his cock. Dick's 
hands had fallen back and his eyes were closed as he felt 
nothing but the sensation of her fingers on his shaft.

     "Would you like me to do that, Dick? Would you like me to 
put that hard cock of yours in my little mouth? Would you ..."

     "Yes!" He couldn't get the words out fast enough. "Yes, yes, 
oh God, yes!"

     Stephanie knelt down before him and gently pressed his 
legs apart. She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his cock 
before opening her lips and taking him into her mouth. Her 
lips closed around the shaft, gripping it tightly, while her 
fingers circled the base and continued to pump. The 
combination of the sight of her beautiful naked body and the 
feel of her hot lips on his shaft didn't take long to get to Dick 
and within minutes he was moaning as white jets of cum shot 
out of his cock. True to her word, Stephanie swallowed them 
all, even licking the head of his rod to get the last few drops.

     Dick felt drained, and he sagged back in his chair. But 
Stephanie appeared perky as ever, rising to her feet only to 
plop herself down onto his lap. She wrapped her arms around 
his neck and planted a long, deep kiss on his lips. An orgasm 
usually left him feeling sleepy, but her kiss quickly revived 
him. He slipped one arm around her slim waist, letting the 
other hand fall to her silky bush. She wriggled in delight as 
his fingers tickled their way to her slit, already moist with 
secretions.

     Stephanie's obvious delight in his actions made Dick feel 
like a kid again -- like the lover he never was. Tenderly, then 
with more and more passion, he drove his fingers into her slit 
as her pussy juices coated them. All the while they kissed 
and suckled each other.

     "Oh, Dick, that's so good," she whispered in his ear. "Oh, 
god, do you know what else I want to do now?"

     Dick had to take a deep breath before he could answer. 
"Wh-what would that be?"

     "I want to fuck you," she said simply, and the words sent a 
jolt through him even more than when her lips had first 
closed on his cock. 

     "B-b-but I-I-I..." He paused and started again. "I can't d-do 
it so soon..."

     "Yes you can," she giggled. To his surprise, Dick realized it 
was true; he could feel his cock beginning to swell anew. 

     "And I really want to fuck you, Dick. I want that hard cock 
inside my pussy. I want to ride it so hard! And you're going to 
make me cum, Dick. I can feel it. You're going to make me cum 
so hard! Won't that be fun!"

     With one last long, deep kiss, Stephanie twisted around so 
that her back was against Dick's chest and his cock was 
poking up between her legs. She had to stroke it only a little 
while before it was once again stiff. With Dick holding her 
tightly around the waist, she lifted herself up and scooched 
forward, putting her soaking wet pussy lips directly above 
his shaft. In one long, slow, fluid movement she lowered 
herself and buried his cock in her up to the hilt. Dick pressed 
his mouth to her neck to muffle his scream of ecstasy as he 
felt her tight cunt walls enfold his rod.

     "Ooooh, it's as good as I thought it would be," Stephanie 
cooed, while she wiggled around on the stiff cock. She began 
to pump away at it, bathing it in her secretions, squeezing it 
with her pussy lips. Guttural grunts escaped Dick's lips as his 
hands reached up to squeeze her pert breasts.

     Stephanie bent her head around to plant a wet kiss on his 
face. "Do you like this, Dick? Am I doing OK?" 

     "Perfect," he managed to get out. "Perfect. Just -- 
perfect." 

     It was almost too much effort to speak, now; he wanted to 
concentrate only the incredible sensations. Stephanie's body 
felt as light as a feather on his lap, but her cunt's attack on 
his cock was strong and determined. He had never imagined 
their stuck-up maid could be such a sexual being. She was a 
goddess and he was worshiping eagerly at the temple of her 
body, driving his cock into her as a sacrifice to her beauty. Or 
at least that was one of the mental images flooding his lust-
crazed mind as they continued to rut away with abandon, the 
desk chair squeaking beneath them.

     "You're doing it, Dick," Stephanie said with a gasp. "Oh, 
god, you really are! You're going to make me cum! I can feel it! 
I can feel it! I can aaaaaaauuuuggghhhh!"

     Stephanie's flailing orgasm brought on his own, and 
another surge of cum shot out of his cock, this time filling 
the girl's hot pussy and oozing out the sides to mingle with 
her own gush of fluids, pouring down his cock and onto the 
seat. With his last reserves of strength Dick drove his 
faltering cock into her cunt once, twice, a third time, 
squeezing the last bit of jism from it before his rod shriveled 
and his muscles gave out.

     Just a few seconds later Stephanie rose off of him and 
briskly slipped her clothes back onto her sweaty body. Dick 
sat in a rapidly cooling puddle of their fluids, too exhausted 
to move. 

     "We-we-we've got to clean this up," he called out weakly 
as Stephanie moved toward the door. "What if Joanna ..."

     "Sorry, Dick, it's my lunch hour now," the young girl said 
saucily, closing the door behind her.

   ===   ===   ===   ===



     As Stephanie stepped out from behind the front desk, with 
her hands on the top button of her blouse, Joanna came into 
the lobby, pushing her way through the door from the dining 
room.

     "Stephanie, where have you been? I had to put all those 
groceries away by myself. And it turns out we forgot to get 
the steaks and things for the special dinner we promised the 
Fergusons Saturday -- you remember, the anniversary couple? 
You'll just have to -- Why are you looking at me like that?"

     "Oh, Joanna, Joanna, Joanna, you poor dear woman."

     Joanna ignored the comment -- a typical Stephanieism, 
she thought. "What was I saying? Oh, yes, you'll have to -- 
stop that!"

     Stephanie paused with her hand halfway to another pat of 
Joanna's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Joanna, it just makes me feel so 
sorry for you to see how wrong you were."

     "About what?"

     "About how some men prefer women who are, you know, 
over-endowed? As opposed to well-built, perfectly shaped 
young women like, well, like moi."

     "Stephanie, I don't know what you're talking about, but 
you're going to have to ..."

     "Oh, Joanna, you silly thing! Of course you know what I'm 
talking about. Our little conversation in the kitchen? You ..."

     "I remember, Stephanie, but what does that have to do 
with anything?"

     "Just this, Joanna. You said that I wasn't enough for some 
men. But I know at least one man who's had a chance to 
compare you and I, and I know exactly who he prefers. 
'Perfect,' he called me. More than once."

     Just then, Dick poked his head out of the door to the den. 
"Steph-- Oh, hi, Joanna. Uh, say, do we have any, uh, Lysol?"

     "Lysol?" Joanna was beginning to think the whole inn was 
going crazy around her -- not that that was unusual. "Why in 
the world do you need..."

     "Oh, no reason," Dick said, "but d-d-do we have any?"

     "In the basement, I think," Joanna began, "but I still don't 
understand..."

     Not waiting for her to finish, Dick scuttled across to the 
basement door and disappeared down the steps. Joanna, who 
had started across the lobby to talk to him, slipped behind the 
front desk, her face in a frown. "Now what could he have..." As 
she spoke, she opened the door to his den and took half a step 
inside. "Good heavens, this room smells like a whorehouse!" 
She slapped a hand to her mouth. "Not that I have any idea 
what that smells like, of course, I mean..."

     Stephanie, giggling, was leaning on the other side of the 
reception desk. "Now do you understand what I was talking 
about, Joanna?"

     The older woman's face grew dark red. "You, you, you," she 
spluttered, unable to say more.

     "That's right, Joanna. Little, young, petite, 'perfect' me. 
Guess you were wrong about what men want, weren't you?"

     She snatched out of Joanna's hand a small sheet of paper. 
"Steaks, baking potatoes -- oh, I get it, you need this from 
the market. Well, I think I'll leave you to think about what 
happened, Joanna. Bye!" On her way to the door Stephanie 
intercepted Dick climbing up from the basement. "Come on," 
Stephanie said, slipping a hand around his back. "You can drive 
me into town."

     "Oh, but I have to ..."

     "Don't worry, Joanna won't mind! Will you, Joanna?" 
Stephanie smirked toward the desk, where the older woman 
was standing stock still, her mouth half open. "See? Joanna 
doesn't mind. Oh, and say, Joanna, if Michael calls, be a love 
and tell him I'll be back in a couple of hours, won't you?" 

     The door slammed behind her just as Joanna thought of the 
perfect comeback. She almost spat it out anyway, but the 
phone's insistent ring interrupted her train of thought.

     "Stratford Inn, how may -- oh, hello, Michael. Yes, 
Stephanie said to tell you ..." She paused briefly and glanced 
at the door to Dick's den. "Ah, that is, Stephanie said to tell 
you to come right over. Don't waste any time, she said. That's 
right. Well, we'll see you soon, Michael."

     For the next several minutes, Joanna busied herself around 
the inn, shifting things back and forth, tidying up here and 
there. She placed a few quilts on the floor in front  of the 
fireplace and started a roaring fire. She was just getting to 
her feet and wiping a smudge or two of ash off her hands 
when the front door swung open. She rushed through the door 
to the lobby.

     "Hi-ho, Jojo! Where's my little snugglepuss?"  Michael was 
a young, impeccably dressed man with the air of a small boy 
playing dress-up.

     Joanna composed her face into a look of chagrin. "Oh, 
Michael, I'm sorry, Stephanie had to go to town. She won't be 
back for at least an hour."

     Michael's face fell. "But, Jojo, she asked me to come right 
over. I had to leave just as the Professor was setting up his 
radio. Now I'll never know if Gilligan got off the island!"

     In her mind, Joanna grimaced. Michael was such a little 
boy. But a woman's got to do what a woman's got to do. She 
advanced on him, cooing her apology. Michael seemed near 
tears. Joanna put a hand around his shoulder and led him into 
the dining room.

     "I'm sure Stephanie just forgot all about you," she said, 
turning her face so he couldn't see her smirk. "You know how 
she is. I wouldn't let it get you down, Michael."

     "But, Joanna, she SAID she'd meet me!"

     Joanna turned toward him again. Her hand applied gentle 
pressure, bending his head down onto her ample chest. "There, 
there, Michael. Don't worry."

     The fire cast a warm glow on them as she nudged him 
toward the quilts spread on the floor. Michael was clutching 
her around the waist, shuffling his feet along with her. As 
they came to a halt, Joanna released her pressure on his head 
and spoke. "Michael, I..." He picked his head up to look at her. 
She quivered her lips as she gazed deeply into his red-rimmed 
eyes. "I..." Joanna pressed her lips to Michael's. At first it was 
a gentle kiss. Then she pressed harder, opening her mouth and 
forcing her tongue into his. Michael seemed paralyzed at 
first, but soon he responded, holding her closer, returning her 
smothering kiss.

     When they broke their embrace, Joanna was feeling a bit 
flushed in spite of herself, but Michael looked completely 
flustered. 

     "Holy Mrs. Robinson, Joanna," he sputtered. "If my little 
love-bug had caught us -- or the Dickster!"

     Joanna's voice was soft and low. "They're in town, Michael, 
and they're not coming back for a long time. No one's going to 
catch us. We can do whatever we want. So what do you want 
to do, Michael?"

     He babbled in reply.

     Joanna took the bottom of her sweater in both hands and 
pulled it over her head in one fluid move. As she tossed it 
aside, her large breasts cradled in a silky white bra jiggled 
slightly.

     "Do you want to touch my breasts, Michael? They're not too 
big, are they?" She reached behind and undid the clasp. As the 
bra fell away, the tits sagged slightly but still stood out, 
with large dark aureoles capped by thick, erect nipples. 
Joanna was a bit surprised by her own horniness.

     "Wow!" Michael reached out a hand, tentatively. It 
tremored as it neared her flesh. "Mega-bongos, Joanna. I've 
never, uh, had anything like those."

     "But don't you prefer smaller breasts? Aren't mine a bit, 
well, much?"

     "Negatory, Jojo. They're perfect! Who'd want some skimpy 
chick when they could have a shelf like yours!" His hand 
brushed against her breast. Joanna held her breath, hoping her 
plan worked. Michael rubbed the back of his fingers lightly 
against her skin for a few seconds, but soon both his hands 
were groping her large tits. Before long he had bent to take 
them into his mouth, one by one, licking and suckling like a 
baby. Joanna flung back her head, closed her eyes and reveled 
in his passion. The young man's slightly clumsy moves made 
her feel a little like a cradle robber, but that wasn't all bad; 
it felt curiously sexy to be seducing somewhat who wasn't 
much more than a boy. She could feel her crotch beginning to 
warm and moisten, and she made a slight change in her plans.

     While Michael was occupied with her breasts, Joanna 
quietly slipped her slacks and panties to the floor and kicked 
off her low-heeled shoes. When she pushed the young man 
away from her chest, he let out a loud gasp as he saw her 
naked body.

     "You're as pretty as a centerfold," he managed to get out. 
"Where have you been hiding that sexy body, Joanna?"

     "Oh, Michael," Joanna said, smiling to herself, "do you 
really like it? It's not quite what you're used to..."

     "Not by a mile, Jojo! It's way better. It's like -- like -- 
like the difference between day-old Ripple and four-year-old 
Chardonnay. You're prime vintage. Wow!"

     Joanna pressed her arms to her side in a little private hug. 
This was working out even better than she'd hoped. Her hands 
traced paths across her flat stomach to the auburn patch of 
hair between her legs; she saw Michael's eyes following them.

     "Aren't you a little overdressed?" She saw his eyes 
bounced back and forth between her crotch and her face 
several times.

     "Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, I guess," Michael said, blushing. He 
tossed aside his designer wear with far more abandon than 
Joanna had ever seen him treat his clothes. He really is hot 
for me, she told herself.

     Michael was, as she feared, a bit scrawny. But, she saw 
with approval, at least one part of him was well-developed. 
His cock was already stiff and stood out at least seven 
inches. Joanna licked her lips and almost dove on it, but held 
herself back. She was in the driver's seat, and she was 
determined not to give it up.

     She spread her legs apart and brushed her fingers through 
her bush and down to her pussy lips, already well-lubricated. 
As she dipped a finger into her slit, she looked back up at 
Michael and saw his mouth half-open. She smiled.

     "Looks good, doesn't it? Wouldn't you like a closer look?"

     Michael knelt down, his face just inches from the musky 
cunt.

     "I'm really, really hot and wet, Michael. My cunt is just 
aching for someone to put his fingers in me. And his tongue. 
Do you think..."

     Before she could finish the sentence, the young man 
pressed two fingers into her slit as Joanna withdrew her 
own. Further talk was unnecessary as he pushed his fingers 
deeper into her cunt and her juices flowed lavishly. Joanna 
caressed her tits, sighing deeply as she felt her pussy 
respond to Michael's movements. Her breath came in short, 
sharp gasps when he bent forward and put his mouth to her 
hole. It had been so long! He was not an expert, but she gently 
corrected him, holding his head away when he became too 
rough, pressing him to her when he faltered. She felt as if her 
whole body was on fire while he suckled her, his probing 
tongue slipping between her folds and lapping at her cunt. 
When his thumb found her clit, the feeling was almost too 
much to take, and within a minute or two she dissolved into a 
wild orgasm.

     When she could speak again, Joanna got to her knees and 
told Michael to lie down on the quilts. His cock was standing 
straight up as she crawled over to it and straddled him. She 
grabbed hold of his shaft and rubbed the tip against her pussy 
lips, keeping them just out of reach of his frantic bucking. 
"Not so fast, Michael," she cooed. "You're going to get it, but 
..."

     "Gee whillickers, Joanna, I need you! I'm into total sex 
craze! I..."

     "Michael," she said softly.

     He ignored the interruption. "I need that totally awesome 
cunt on me! You're like total goddessville, Joanna! You..."

     "Michael!"

     "You turn my insides on like a Pop-Tart in a toaster! You..."

     "Michael, dear," she said in a flat tone. "Shut up."

     He stopped short. As a reward, Joanna sank down onto his 
eager cock, taking it deep into her sopping wet cunt. She saw 
sparks fly and wasn't sure if they were really coming out of 
the fire or just in her mind. Michael's fat cock was big enough 
to fill her up; she'd thought no man could do that. On each 
downstroke she ground her pussy against his groin, thrilling 
to the feel of his balls slapping against her flesh. More than 
she had in years, Joanna felt like a sexual being. It was if 
she'd awakened from a long, deep sleep. She cast aside the 
last vestiges of her normal demureness as Michael's cock 
drove in and out of her.

     "Fuck me," she commanded him. "That's it, slam your cock 
into me, Michael. Don't hold back! Don't hold anything back. I 
can take anything you can give me. Drive that big, hard cock 
into me up to the hilt!"

     "Joanna," Michael started to say, but she silenced him with 
a finger to her lips. 

     "Don't talk, you fucking stud," she said. "God damn, this is 
good. Just fuck my cunt and squeeze my tits. That's all men 
are good for, anyway. Come on, Michael. Fuck me!"

     In her own mind, Joanna knew she was putting on an act, 
at least in part. She had guessed -- oh, how correctly -- that 
Michael would respond to a harsh mistress. But she also was 
getting a kick out of ordering him around and talking dirty. 

     As they continued to rut wildly, she tried out every dirty 
word she knew and a few she made up on the spot. Each time 
she'd throw one out Michael seemed to add an extra oomph to 
his humping, until she had to grab hold of his waist to keep 
from being tossed off. Her tits were bouncing up and down, 
slapping her chest with each powerful thrust of his hard cock.

     Just when she began to feel a glow inside, she sensed that 
Michael too was nearing the edge. She forced him to slow 
down the pace, taking long, slow rides up and down his cock, 
until the first small tremor shook her sweaty body. Michael 
took the cue and drove his cock into her roughly, once, twice, 
and then a third time deep into her cunt. With a loud groan he 
let loose a torrent of cum as her own orgasm hit full force.

     By the time she had ridden out the last wave of passion 
the logs in the fireplace had burned down to a few glowing 
embers. She stared at them for a few seconds before her mind 
snapped into the present.

     Without hesitation, she rose off of Michael's flagging 
shaft and gathered up her clothes. The young man, still on the 
floor, grabbed at her ankle. 

     "Another round, Jojo?"

     Joanna glanced out the window. "Isn't that our car? Oh, 
look, yes, there's Stephanie and Dick coming down the road."

     Michael leaped to his feet and snatched up his slacks, 
hopping into them one-legged while Joanna giggled.

     "Better hurry up, Michael," she teased him. "Wouldn't want 
your snugglepuss to know you've been snuggling some other 
pussy!"

     "I, uh, I," he struggled to say as he zipped up his slacks and 
shoved his arms into his shirt. "Do you..."

     "You don't have long now," Joanna said, pushing him out of 
the dining room and across to the front door. He turned back 
to her as he flung it open, but she didn't even wave; she was 
holding her sides as she laughed at him. When he'd closed the 
door behind him, Joanna dressed herself and got to the 
window in time to see his car peeling out of their driveway 
just as Dick slowed to turn in. The expression on Stephanie's 
face was priceless.

   ===   ===   ===   ===

     It didn't take long after Stephanie got a whiff of the quilts 
in the dining room for her to figure out what had happened. 
Even if she didn't get the idea right away, the shit-eating grin 
on Joanna's face would have clued her in. The young woman 
was furious, but guests started to come in from their 
daytime activities and there was no way for her to get Joanna 
alone.

     It wasn't until the next day, when things quieted down 
after breakfast and Dick went to the TV station to tape his 
show, that Stephanie got her chance. Joanna was at the front 
desk, balancing the inn's accounts, when the maid stormed 
across the lobby toward her.

     Their argument was short and loud, but didn't give 
Stephanie any satisfaction. Joanna had, as she pointed out 
several times, only given back in kind -- and proved a point 
about what men wanted, too. Stephanie insisted Joanna's 
trick had worked only because Michael was easily seduced, 
but that only allowed Joanna to say that Michael's horniness 
was the only way Stephanie had landed him.

     The argument was going nowhere but Stephanie didn't 
want to give in; she wasn't used to doing that with anyone. It 
was out of sheer frustration, then, that she blurted it out.

     "Any man would want me. Why, if I wanted to, I could get 
the next man through that door to do me!"

     Joanna, who had been laughing her way through the 
argument, waited until her chuckles subsided before replying. 
"You're on," she said.

     "What?"

     "You're on. Let's see you do it. Let's see you get the next 
man through that door to fuck that sorry little pussy of 
yours." 

     "Joanna, I wasn't serious!"

     "Chicken?"

     "I am not!"

     "Then do it."

     Stephanie's eyes were blazing, but she was cornered and 
she knew it. It simply wasn't in her to end a fight with 
someone else getting the last word.

     "All right," she said. "I'll do it."

     The front door swung open just a few seconds later.

     "Hi," said the scruffy leader of the trio that walked in. "I'm 
Larry. This is my brother Darryl, and this is my other brother 
Darryl." The two other men, even scruffier and filthier, 
nodded their greetings.

     Stephanie's eyes grew wide and round, and she spun around 
and mouthed the words to Joanna: "I can't do it."

     The older woman came out from behind the desk and stood 
next to Stephanie. She said hello to the men, and out of the 
side of her mouth whispered to the maid. "You promised," she 
said. "Chicken?"

     While Stephanie shut her eyes to think, Larry asked Joanna 
about the chore she'd called them over for. Stephanie's eyes 
shot open. 

     "You called them? You knew they were coming?"

     Larry cut in. "You bet, Miss Stephanie. Now where's that 
ditch that needs digging?"

     Joanna smiled at Stephanie and turned to the men. "Oh, 
sorry, Larry, it turns out we didn't need that, after all. But 
Stephanie needs some help upstairs. Don't you?"

     Stephanie felt sick, but her natural stubbornness fought 
back. There was no way she was going to let Joanna get the 
upper hand.

     "That's right, boys," she said sweetly. "Could you follow 
me?"

   ===   ===   ===   ===



     Joanna waited a few minutes after Stephanie had led the 
filthy trio up the stairs before she tiptoed up herself and 
knelt before the keyhole to the maid's room.

     She was surprised to see Stephanie had apparently chosen 
the brute force approach. The young girl was lying naked and 
spread-eagled on her bed, directly across from the door. 
Joanna had a perfect view of her wide-open snatch.

     It occurred to the older woman that, while Stephanie's 
body was somewhat skimpy, it had its own charms. It 
certainly didn't look like it would take much to convince any 
normal man to strip and fuck, but Stephanie seemed to be 
having a hard time getting the boys to understand.

     "Come on, Larry," the maid pleaded. "Do I have to rip your 
clothes off myself? Look." She pointed to her crotch. "This is 
my cunt." She rubbed her breasts. "And this is my tit, and this 
is my other tit. Now let's get to it!"

     Joanna heard some scuffling noises and then saw the three 
men stride into her field of view, each stripped naked and 
sporting medium-sized hard-ons. She was surprised to 
realize they looked even dirtier with their clothes off, and 
for a second or two she regretted goading Stephanie into it. 
Then she remembered what the young girl had done to her 
husband, and settled in to watch the fun.

     "One ground rule," Stephanie was saying as Larry knelt to 
shove his cock into her pussy and the other two opened their 
mouths to gobble up her tits. "No kissing on the mouth."

     One of the Darryls whispered something in Larry's ear, and 
the spokesman paused with his cock just at the opening of 
Stephanie's cunt. "Darryl wants to know, do you mean him 
kissing Darryl, or you?"

     Joanna choked back a laugh as Stephanie shouted "Neither!"

     Without further talk, the foursome launched into a 
blistering series of sex acts. As Joanna watched from her 
vantage point, one after another the men slammed their cocks 
into the young girl's slit and spewed their cum deep inside 
her. She refused to suck their dicks, and had to struggle a bit 
when one of the Darryls tried to shove his shaft up her 
asshole. Even without that, Stephanie was clearly the worse 
for wear when it was all over. Her normally perfect hair was 
a mass of tangles and her makeup was smeared and runny. 
Joanna stared at the bedraggled sight so intently that she 
almost didn't realize that it was all over until one of the men 
backed up against the door as he was putting on his pants. She 
had to dash into her room and slip behind the door to avoid 
their eyes as Larry, Darryl and Darryl thumped down the 
stairs and out of the inn.

     Just a couple of minutes after that, to Joanna's 
astonishment, she looked out and saw Stephanie leaving her 
room -- again looking perfect, hair combed just so, makeup 
all in place. The older woman stepped out of her room.

     "Stephanie! How did you do that?"

     "I just spread my legs and let them come on in, Joanna, 
what do you think?" Though she looked perfect, there was a 
slight haziness in Stephanie's voice.

     "I don't mean that," Joanna said. "I mean how did you clean 
yourself up so fast?" She sniffed the air. "And you even smell 
nice! I'd expect you to smell of cum and old, dead animals 
after what you've been through."

     Stephanie showed her bright, gleaming teeth. "Oh, Joanna, 
you poor thing. We Vanderkellens NEVER sweat, and we never 
give off odors.  Really, Joanna, you should know better."

     Another time, Joanna would have been put off by her 
vanity, but now it somehow seemed just the right personality 
to fit her body. She didn't even mind when the maid went on.

     "And I think I've proved my point, Joanna."

     "Which was?"

     "That men prefer a young, perky body like mine. Even men 
like -- like those three. And don't think I don't know what you 
did, Joanna -- daring me like that when you knew they were 
coming over!"

     Joanna laughed and slipped a hand around Stephanie's 
shoulder. "You're right, I did set you up. But I'm not so sure 
you've proved your point. Tell you what, Stephanie, I'll make 
you another bet."

     "Another bet? And who will I have to bed this time?"

     "This time the bet's on me," Joanna said, ignoring the 
question. "I'll bet you that I can seduce the last person in the 
world you'd ever think would go to bed with me."

     "The last -- who, Joanna?"

     "You'll see -- in fact, I'll make sure you do. You hide in the 
closet in our room, and watch what happens."

     Shortly thereafter Stephanie was nestled between two of 
Dick's heavy overcoats, peering through the narrow slit of the 
closet doors. Joanna, meanwhile, slipped into the bathroom. A 
few minutes later she emerged. Instead of her old around-
the-house clothes, she had on a lacy red peignoir, so sheer as 
to be almost transparent. Clearly visible underneath were a 
dark red bra straining to hold in her massive tits and a silky 
bikini brief -- little more than two small triangles of 
material with spaghetti-thin strips on the sides. Even 
without high heels, Joanna's legs looked miles long, and the 
curves of her body through the misty red garment were lush 
and inviting.

     Joanna crawled onto the bed, her breasts hanging down as 
she faced the closet.

     "Can you see all right, Stephanie?"

     The young girl's voice, muffled slightly, called out that 
she could see just fine but wanted to know when the action 
would start.

     "In just a little while," Joanna said. "So what do you think 
of my outfit? Think it'll work?"

     Another muffled response.

     "I can't quite hear you, dear. Why don't you come a little 
closer? There's no one else here yet."

     Stephanie's face appeared between the closet doors. "I 
said, you do look quite attractive in that, Joanna." She 
frowned slightly. "More than I would have imagined. I think 
I've been underestimating you a bit."

     Joanna grinned and stroked her body. "So it's not too bad 
for an old broad, is it?"

     "No, not at all!" Stephanie seemed surprised at her own 
enthusiasm. She started to withdraw back into the closet.

     "Don't go yet," Joanna said. "Keep me company until -- you 
know." As she spoke, the older woman slid her long legs 
around until her feet were dangling over the end of the bed 
closest to the closet and she was sitting up. She raised her 
knees up and hugged them to herself. 

     "I don't know, Joanna," Stephanie said, a hint of petulance 
in her voice. "Just what is going to happen?"

     The older woman smiled -- a little smile to Stephanie but 
a big one in her mind. "What do you think? Someone's going to 
come and make love to me!" Joanna turned sideways, 
stretching out her long legs. "Someone's going to caress me 
like this." She slid her hands up and down the smooth skin, 
from hips to ankles. "And then someone's going to take off my 
peignoir." She pulled the wispy garment off and let it drop to 
the floor. Joanna snuck a peek at Stephanie; the young girl had 
taken a step  half out of the closet. "And someone's going to 
take off my bra." She unhooked the clasp and tossed the bra 
aside. Her breasts hung down full, the nipples already fully 
erect. Joanna heard a small gasp from the closet.

     "And someone will caress my breasts, and lick them, and 
suck on them." She squeezed her tits with the sides of her 
arms and then stroked them, drawing her finger in slow 
circles that ended up on the tip of each nipple. There was a 
rustling noise in the closet.

     "Yes, someone will make love to my breasts. Slow, 
passionate love. And we'll kiss, deep, hot, wet kisses that 
last for days. And we'll roll around on the bed." Joanna fell 
onto her back, spreading her legs wide and pointing her crotch 
toward the closet as she stroked and rubbed herself all over. 
She heard low moans coming from the young maid.

     "And then, do you know what, Stephanie? Then I'll slip off 
my panties, just like this." She rolled the skimpy panties 
down her legs slowly and kicked them off. Falling again onto 
her back, Joanna pointed her knees to the ceiling and began to 
pet her silky bush and finger her already lubricated slit. "And 
we'll make love. Passionate love. Hard, hot, driving sex." She 
picked up the tempo of her fingers, slipping them inside her 
and beginning to push them in and out, faster and faster. 
"Harder, harder!" Her hips began to bounce up and down in time 
with her fingers.

     "Oh, god, Joanna!" Stephanie cried out from the closet. 
"You're making me so hot! When will it start?"

     Joanna smiled broadly and slipped her fingers out of her 
twat. "Very, very soon," she said, getting off the bed and 
walking over to the closet. When she opened the doors 
quickly, she caught Stephanie with one hand still buried in 
her own cunt.

     "Sooner than you can imagine," Joanna said, quietly now. 
She reached down and pulled Stephanie's hand up. Staring 
straight into the young girl's eyes, Joanna took Stephanie's 
hand up to her lips and began to lick at it. She took each 
finger into her mouth, sucking at them so hard her cheeks 
hollowed. 

     "Joanna!" Stephanie's mouth fell open.

     The older woman brought the young girl's hand down, 
sliding it over her large breasts and flat stomach, until it 
was brushing her cunt. Then she took her own hand, still wet 
with her pussy juices, and pressed it to Stephanie's lips.

     "Oh, Joanna," Stephanie whispered, and began to lick. 
Imitating Joanna, she took the older woman's hand in hers and 
sucked the fingers in one by one.

     Gently, Joanna pulled her hand away at last and took a step 
forward. She bent her head down and pressed her lips to 
Stephanie's, savoring the taste of the mingled fluids. The 
young girl still was shy at first, but Joanna pressed on, 
opening her mouth and using her hot tongue to tease 
Stephanie's lips until they opened to her probing.

     Before long Stephanie and Joanna were locked in a tight 
embrace, their mouths crushed together as their hands 
explored each other's holes. Slowly, step by step, Joanna 
pulled Stephanie out of the closet and toward the bed. When 
the backs of her legs brushed against the downy quilt Joanna 
broke their embrace and sat down, crawling back until her 
head was against the pillows, opening her legs wide.

     "Joanna, I never..." Stephanie whispered. The older woman 
shushed her. 

     "You're a little over dressed," Joanna said with a smile.

     Even as she spoke, Stephanie was unbuttoning her blouse. 
Soon her clothes were tumbled in a heap on the floor and the 
young girl, stark naked, was crawling across the big bed 
toward Joanna.

     They kissed again, Stephanie's small, firm breasts rubbing 
against Joanna's big, pillowy tits, their hands exploring each 
other's bodies. Then Stephanie slid down and began to kiss and 
suckle the massive mammaries. Joanna sighed.

     "Yes," she said, "just like I said. Make love to them, 
Stephanie. Slow, passionate love."

     Stephanie took her time, savoring every square inch of 
Joanna's lushness. Before long the older woman felt herself 
beginning to melt and she pushed Stephanie down, down, 
down, until the young girl's mouth was hovering over her cunt.

     She thrilled at the first touch of Stephanie's wet tongue, 
sliding along the musky folds. "Oh, god, yes," Joanna moaned, 
pressing the girl's head down onto her. "Harder, Stephanie, 
harder!" And then, with a loud, deep groan, Joanna felt her 
body flood with an incredible orgasm just as the maid's 
tongue slid between her pussy lips and into her soaking wet 
tunnel.

     Stephanie seemed stunned by the immediate reaction and 
started to pull away, but Joanna closed her thighs around the 
young girl's head, refusing to let her up. "Don't stop," she 
insisted, as the tremors of her passion raced up and down her 
body.

     Stephanie went back to work, driving her tongue deep into 
Joanna's womanhood, while a gush of fluids coated her face 
and soaked into the mattress. Joanna slipped her own hand 
down to her cunt, rolling her sensitive clit around between 
her fingers while the maid ministered to her pussy.

     A second orgasm followed quickly on the first. This one 
was so violent that Joanna's body was thrown up into the air 
again and again, and when it ended she was too weak to move.

     Stephanie slid back up the older woman's sweaty body and 
planted a few delicate kisses on her lips. Joanna would have 
been content to just lie there, but she felt an obligation to 
her young lover. 

     Before long Stephanie was squatting astride the older 
woman's face, lowering her cunt to an already searching 
tongue. Even the young girl's musk was flowery, Joanna 
thought, as she licked the smooth skin on the inside of 
Stephanie's thighs, working her way closer and closer to the 
hot, wet center.

     And then she was inside, her tongue driving between 
Stephanie's tight folds and plunging into her cunt. Joanna's 
hands reached up and sought out the firm breasts, squeezing 
them passionately as she continued to lap up the young girl's 
juices.

     In time Joanna felt her strength returning and she began to 
buck her hips up at the empty air, feeling a longing in her 
loins. Stephanie turned her head back and saw. She pivoted, 
keeping her cunt poised above Joanna's probing tongue, and 
bent down until her breasts hung down onto the older woman's 
heaving stomach. When Stephanie again put her tongue to 
Joanna's pussy, the older woman felt an electric shock race 
through every nerve. The two women buried their tongues in 
each other, their hands sinking into the soft flesh of their 
buttocks, pleasuring each other over and over.

     Feeling her own orgasm near, Joanna slid away from 
Stephanie's mouth, hoping to prolong the joyful agony a bit 
longer. Their slick bodies slid easily over each other as they 
grappled on the bed, the sheets and quilt tangling beneath 
them, pillows tumbling to the floor. In time they found 
themselves face to face again, hugging tightly, pressing 
passionate kisses onto each other's breasts, neck, lips. And 
then Joanna could stand it no longer. She entwined her legs 
with Stephanie's and began to hump against the young girl's 
cunt, desperately shoving her own hot pussy against the 
maid's crotch.

     It wasn't enough. Soon they were scissored together, 
Joanna with her head at the top of the bed, Stephanie's head 
at its foot, their cunts pressed tightly together. Joanna's 
fingers sought out and buried themselves in Stephanie's tight 
twat just as the young girl pressed her fingers into Joanna's 
opening.

     By now their moans were echoing off the walls as they 
drew nearer and nearer to what Joanna was sure would be 
colossal orgasms. Faster and faster they prodded each other 
until at last a blaze of white-hot passion burst in Joanna's 
groin and spread quickly through her entire body. She felt 
each muscle fiber contract, paralyzing her body, and then let 
go, and then contract again, a cycle repeated hundreds of 
times as the seconds flew past.

     Vaguely she was aware of Stephanie launching into her 
own orgasm, all flailing legs and whirling arms and loud, 
shrieking cries. To Joanna's surprise, she found herself 
joining in the shouts. She had never thought of herself as a 
screamer before, but she felt loud bellows being wrung from 
her.

     So caught up was she in her passion that she didn't hear 
the door to the room open, and it took several repetitions 
before she could puzzle out the words of the person who was 
now standing in the doorway.

     "Joanna! Stephanie! I heard the screams and I was afraid -- 
I was -- oh, my!"

     The speaker began to back out, but Joanna raised a hand, 
palm out. Then she looked down at Stephanie, who smiled and 
nodded. Joanna turned her hand around, curling the fingers 
toward herself in a beckoning gesture.

     "Come here, George," she said in a husky whisper.


