With a shaky hand from the ball-draining, back-to-back ejaculations I'd just experienced from the silky cunts of both women, I tenderly wiped the damp, wispy curls of dark hair away from the maid's sweaty brow. I smiled into her small, heart-shaped face, flushed red with the sweetness of orgasms.

"If you consider this punishment, my sweet," I began, "I'd hate to see what you think constitutes torture. Why don't you rest that bad girl ass of yours awhile before serving dinner later?"

Francesca smiled wanly at my words. "Y-yes, signore....I shall. Signora." She stood up again on her petite, curvy legs. I could still see the wetness of my semen run down the inside of her thighs from her pussy. Lord, but the girl had a nicely rounded bottom. Each smooth, milky white buttcheek sashayed at me with sibilant grace as she exited my study, her ass seemingly daring my cock to rise for yet a third time.

"You really like her, don't you?"

My wife's voice caused me to turn around. She was looking at me from the leather chair with a shit-eating grin on her lips, playing with the deposited cum in her cunt with two of her expensively manicured fingers, making sticky trails from her labia like a junior cat's cradle.

"That's an understatement," I replied.

She grinned further. "Well, you're a man, after all. Even though you never jumped the bit at that skinny blonde Swede who worked before Francesca came to us. Somehow, someday, I just knew you'd get up inside that small, round, tight Italian ass of hers. And as a man over forty, anything that gets your dander up twice inside of five minutes has got to be a good investment."

I cocked an eyebrow. I knew my wife to be a reformed swinger, an occasional rug-muncher and fantasy prone to periods of kinky experimentation, but still, I'd been her dutiful husband fucking a much younger maidservant behind her back. Such breaches of fidelity must be tenaciously handled regardless of the resulting mutual pleasure. "So, you won't be giving her the axe, I take it?"

"If she can keep it up. Her pussy tastes like honey even with your pungent cream inside of it...and she can eat mine way better than you ever could. To be honest, darling, I didn't hire her just for the way she handles a feather duster."

I laughed. My wife, ever the kind, altruistic equal opportunity employer. For once in her life, she did something good with my hard-earned money.

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Latrevo ta megala stithi!

"When men worship me because of my breasts, I feel that I am an embodiment of the goddess that has become...a part of our collective human soul." — Chloe Vevrier

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