Mr. Wilson was number six but at least he was good looking. He was tall and blond and very fit.
“Ampara, could you hand me a dry towel?”
“Yes Sir, Mr. Wilson, here you are; Ohhh my Gawd, Meester Wilson, You better put some clothes on before Missis Wilson sees you.”
“Ampara, I am like this because of you. You make me hard like this; you can’t leave me this way.”
“I am sorry Mr. Wilson, You will have to take care of that thing yourself.”
“Please, Ampara.”
“If you want I will watch you do it.” So now he swings the shower door wide open and begins to rub his cock in slow motion while I watch.
“Ampara, could you put down the mop?” So I put down the mop and try to look a little more impressed. He is all man now, no more begging. He thinks I am going to lose my mind over his big cock—it is a big cock though, maybe the biggest I have seen.
“Would Mr. Wilson like me to wash him?”
“Ahhhh yessss,” he groans, eye closed, body arched back, his voice echoing in the tile shower. So I take the hand showerhead and turn it to cold and aim it at his big balls.
“Jeeezuzzz Kay Ryist, Ampara.”
“Sorry, Mister Wilson. Let me fix that.” So I make the water warm, spray him, and then I take the soapy washcloth to his beautiful penis.
“You are very pretty down here, Mr. Wilson. This must feel very good, no?”
I slide my other hand around behind him into the crack of his tight ass, spread my fingers to open his cheeks and slide my longest finger into his soapy asshole. It is just a matter of seconds and he is hopping from toe to toe as he comes in big hot spurts in my wet hands. I mix his gooey cum into the soapy lather for a while and feel so powerful having him in my control.
“Ampara, you have to let me fuck you.”
Okay, enough of this, I think and I pick up the washcloth again. I know the rough washcloth is driving his penis tip crazy from over stimulation but I play the inexperienced housemaid all the way till he whimpers for me to stop.
“Arrrggg! Ampara, I can’t take much more.”
Now he thinks this is going to be his new shower routine from this day on. This time I am not going to just up a quit for no reason I can tell Mrs. Wilson about so I hatch a plan. I scrub his big dick a few more times and once, maybe twice I got on my knees and took his big cock all the way down my throat but I am waiting for a day when I know she will be home on an unexpected morning.
“Is Mr. Wilson going to have his special shower today,” I ask him when I am up in his room? “Because if he is, Amapara has something very special for him today.”
“What is that, Ampara?”
“You just come out of the shower ready for me when I come back and I’ll let you have it,” I say and I wiggle my ass at him as I leave his room. I run downstairs to the kitchen and pile up my arms with a big load of dirty linins and towels. I make a big deal of struggling through the kitchen with my arms full and Mrs. Wilson asks sweetly, if she can help.
“Oh Mrs. Wilson, you are so kind. I am going to take these to the laundry room could you just take the bucket and the mop up to your bathroom for me and I’ll be up in a minute.” I don’t want to miss the show so I drop the towels and head up the front stairway and wait in the laundry room next to their bathroom. Mrs. Wilson, not used to carrying the mop and bucket, makes a pretty noticeable entrance but it is nothing compared to Mr. Wilson’s grand entrance from the shower when he takes his cue perfectly.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Ampara.” And he swings the door open and steps out of the shower onto the tile floor, soaking wet and all lathered in soapsuds with his angry red dick harder than a cat pole in his hand. “…Now, Ampara, about that surprise.”
The best part of this one is that after Mrs. Wilson calmed down she asked me to leave and, to save embarrassment; she offered me a bonus and glowing recommendation for a vow of silencio.
I’ve been here at the Philbert’s for nine months now and this one, house number seven, is the easiest yet. This is not really a house. It’s more like a mansion. There are other servants here too, a cook, a maid and valet, a groundkeeper and a full time mechanic to keep the cars and equipment in order. Mr. Philbert is a doctor and a very controlling man. He interviewed me and hired me; I didn’t meet Mrs. Philbert till after I moved in. She is a very shy and beautiful woman. After I met her she hardly ever looked into my eyes but I would feel her watching me when I was around her. I don’t know what goes on between them but they have separate bedrooms and baths. One morning I found Mrs. Philbert still in her bedroom under the covers.
“Mrs. Philbert? Not feeling well today; are you going to going to stay in bed all day?” She nods, yes. I am used to very little talk from her.
“Do you want me to see if you have a temperature?”
“Would you, Ampara?” she whispers. Something is different; I just put my cool hand on her forehead and notice her breath change and her cheeks begin to blush.
“Yes, you feel warm, Mrs. Philbert, do you want me to take it properly?”
“The thermometer is in the bathroom cabinet, Ampara.”
When I return from the bathroom shaking down the thermometer I find she has turned over on her tummy and lowered the sheet to below her ass. At first I am angry.
Madre Mia! Who do you think you are dealing with? I think but as I look at her beautiful round ass and her narrow waist I feel hot and flushed.
“Turn on your side, away from me, Mrs. Philbert, and bring your knees up to your chest.” She slides up into that position and I pull the sheet completely away so I can see more of her. She is the first woman I have ever seen like this and my pussy is beginning to ache. I tremble as I touch her but I make like I know what I am doing. I get closer and lift her cheek to expose her little hole. Her flesh is hot and damp. I wet the thermometer and my middle finger with my saliva then, holding the thermometer like a pencil between thumb and first, I gently rub her anis with the wet tip of my middle finger. Mrs. Philbert moans very softly and I slide the shiny tip into her pretty little puckered asshole. Even though that next minute seemed like a delicious eternity it certainly wasn’t enough time to get a real temperature. I pull the thermometer out, wipe it with a tissue and check the results.
It’s normal but I tell her, “Yes, it’s up Mrs. Philbert, you definitely have the fever.”
Mrs. Philbert straightens her legs and turns back onto her tummy submissively parting her thighs. “Yes. I do. And what does the nurse suggest?”
“Well, in this situation, Mrs. Philbert, I would recommend something very nice. Have you ever had a warmed soapy enema?”
“When I was a child, but it sounds lovely right now.”
My heart is pounding. It is me who feels like the one who has the fever now.
“And, Ampara…?”
“Yes, Mrs. Philbert?”
Please call me, Olivia.”
Things have progressed far from that day. I have a big strap on cock now that I bought for Olivia, and some new outfits. We often play when the Doctor is away. I was very worried when I overheard Dr. Philbert threatening to fire me, “…because the house isn’t looking as good as when Ampara first started.” But a funny thing happened. Olivia, probably afraid I would leave, began doing a lot of straightening up. I began to do less—leaving things unfinished, little tests for her and she’d clean them up. We never discussed it but now she does more housework than I do. I guess you could say she is my servant now.
“Things are very good for Ampara in my seventh house, if only the fool husband doesn’t ruin everything again."
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