The Summer Maid

(This did not start out as a toy story, but it decided on its own to become one. So be it. The joys of creative writing. I hope you enjoy it and please remember to comment and vote. All participants are over the age of 18.MST)

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At first I was in awe. In my whole life I had never seen such wealth. Even my cousin Everett, the dentist, didn't have a house as beautiful as these homes. And these were not even their main homes; these were just the places where they come to live in the winter Time. Their warm vacation homes to let them escape the snow.

After a while, that awe though gave way to a sense of resigned depression. I would never live in as fine a house as these. If I worked my whole life, which from the looks of it was going to be my fate, I could never afford to buy one that was half as nice. All I could do ... was clean them.

My mom got me the job. She knew a lady, that knew a guy, who worked for a friend, who was a landscaper for one of the home owners. Somehow that convoluted mess of strangers landed me the best paying job I had ever had.

And it was simple.

The richy-rich folk they would leave to go to their big mansions in the Hollywood Hill, or their luxury condos in New York, Boston or Paris every spring, and these houses here would sit empty, with only a caretaker to come by and check on them from time to time. Well, after they would leave for the year, I would get a call and I come give the places a good cleaning. Then the caretaker locks the place up for the summer. After that (till in October when he gets a call from them telling him they are coming back) the fancy places will sit unused by anyone.

That's when I would get a second call and I would have to go back there and "freshen the place up" a few days before they were to arrive for their long winter holiday stays. I will generally start in the kitchen to get the worst of it out the way, not that there is all that much to do really since I took care of the worst of the problems back in the spring. This is mostly dusting and basic cleaning. After the kitchen I move to the bedrooms. I covered the mattresses in plastic back in March, or whenever, and now I strip that off, put fresh sheets--still smelling of the dryer--on the beds. I fluff the pillows, that have spent the whole summer in scented kitchen trash bags, and get them into their "freshened up"pillowcases.

Nice, neat and sweet.

Simple work and it pays well. Far better that the motels and hotels I've slaved at, changing sheets on a one hundred to two hundred beds in a day. Vacuuming just as many rooms and then getting rude suggestions from horny guests. Do I look like I'm French? Does my maid's outfit have ruffles? No. Creeps.

Now, I have at least several hours from the time I get there to the time when the caretaker comes back to check and make sure I locked up. I will do things like put their towels, clean but needing freshen up, in the drier to tumble. While they are doing that, I will often clean the bathrooms, probably my least favorite thing, but like I said most of the work was done in the spring. This is just wiping down time. And that's pretty much that. I give the floor a quick going over with a Swiffer mop, just to grab any dust, and I call it done.

So, all in all I clean one of the places in half a day tops, and then I could do a second, once things start to get busy, if I was of a mind to ... but more often than not I don't. Why not? Well, then I would lose the one change I have get to have some fun.

You see I fantasize. I play in them rich folks homes.

Sometimes I'm the snooty daughter, or maybe the drunken wife. The murderous cook, who's just poisoned the whole family! Yeah, those are my favorites, but I've played dozens of other roles as well. I've played out scenes from some of my favorite films too.

You see I want to be an actress. Yeah....

Anyway, I've been Daisy Buchanan in one house and Adele Invergordon in another and there is easily a dozen others beautiful ladies I love to pretend to be. There is even one house that looks so much like a plantation I always call it my Tara.

"Oh, Rhett, what ever will I do?" I'll call from the front stairs.

I of course have to imagine my Clark Gable's, my Cary Grant's, my Errol Flynn's and my Matt Damon's too. But that's okay. I have a good imagination. In fact I was in the middle of just such a moment of playacting, when my whole world turned upside down.

"Oh, my God!"

Just how quickly a normal day of cleaning and daydreaming can become a surreal moment of amazement, it's astonishing. And all it took was one little dildo ... well, not so little really.

It fell out of a sheet, I found at the last moment in the bottom of a hamper, behind a master bathroom door. One that I must have somehow missed back in the spring. When I pulled the sheet out the hamper this long rubber thing fell out and landed between my feet. I have to say it gave me quite a start and, for a split second, I thought it was a real one. Then I giggled. Well, I had never seen one of these things before! Not for real. Oh, I've seen them in pictures. When I was in my senior year, at George Kennedy High, one of the girls in school sneaked in a catalog of these things. All colors, shapes and sizes. Oh, my lord at the sizes. And all those knobby things, and bumpy bits and buzzy parts it caused quite the giggle fest I'll tell you.

Not that I had been one of the ones looking at it mind you, not like some of them other girls that went through it like they were shopping for shoes. For one, I had been too embarrassed. Like now.

How I found the nerve to pick this one up I'll never know. At least this one didn't buzz or move or any of that other stuff, like some of them in that catalog had said they did. No, this one was just a big pink ... well, a big pink cock. Moving into the light a bit, I looked at it, mostly curious more than anything. I remembered reading that a lot of these things are taken from molds made of real living men. Porn actors. Well, all I can say is this is one big fella then. Whew.

Just how long I looked at it I can't recall, but I must have tried to picture the man it must attach too for a good long while. I had to wonder what he looked like to have a thing like this. Finally I decided I better put this thing away somewhere. Looking around, I somehow came to the decision that the drawer of the nightstand, next to the bed, would be a good place for it.

Oh ... it was.

I think this lady must have seen the same catalog. Sitting down on the side of the bed, I went through that drawer, toy by toy, in utter amassment. There were several dildos, a couple of vibrators, massage oils (in little foil packets,) some sort of small clamps, and a string of bead-things I didn't like the look of at all. And there was a battery collection to make Radio Shack jealous. Finally, I decided I better put all this stuff back , and item by item I tried to place them right where they had been. I'm good at that, I have to move tons of little things in a house and folks don't like finding stuff moved from where they left it. I left that dildo I had found in the sheet against one side of the drawer, I didn't know what else to do with it.

The rest of my time, there in that house, passed in a dazed feeling. I would stop whatever I was doing and want to go take a second look. I managed to resist that feeling till just before I closed the door on my way out. Taking a deep breathe, I locked it back and went back up the stairs to that bedroom and opened the drawer again. I didn't touch anything this time. I just looked. Simply stood there and looked at them, and my "good imagination" began to picture things then. Naughty things.

Very naughty things.

Leaving that house was one of the hardest things I had done in a long while. And I drove home my mind a flame with images. Not scenes from a book or a movie. No my thought were not that simple.

A week later I clean another house. The very first thing I did? Plunder all the drawers in the bedrooms looking for lady toys. But alas there weren't any, not the type to buy such or if she had them she took them with her. I cleaned that house in four hours and left. My normal playtime seemed stale.

As August rolled into September more and more calls began to come in. They were calling for a cold winter this year and rich folks were getting ready to flee south like geese. And as the summer heat began to die, I was working almost every day. And more and more often my secret obsession to find the hidden sex toys of the wealthy became just that. An obsession. While not a very healthy obsession it got me a reputation for cleaning very fast. Sometimes two houses in a day, or even three. Also, I would on occasion, strike pay dirt with a single left behind toy.

Simply things, nothing too complex or gaudy.

Then I found my second hoard! And it was just that. Oh, my lord in heaven! This woman had so many things to put up inside her it was crazy. And this was what she had left behind! It was as I was going through that selection that I found something else. A glossy Blu-ray DVD case with pictures of naked people on the front and sex scenes on the back. Oil soaked bodies, in all kinds of impossible positions, with little white strips covering the good parts. When I opened the case though, it was empty. My eyes went to the huge flat screen TV mounted on the wall and the DVD player on its glass shelf under it. Did they by chance...?

With my hands shaking, I walked over to the shelf and picked up the remote that the owner had left there. I didn't turn it on. I just held that remote in one hand and the DVD case in the other. Backing up, I sat down on the end of their California king size bed. And there, in a house worth more than I would make in three lifetimes, I clicked the button and sat there and watched my first porno movie.

Now, let me tell you. The things the people did in that movie, they was nothing at all like what me and my ex-boyfriend Scotty had done. And Scotty? That two timing sack of shit was a fucking Vienna sausage compared to what the men in that movie had swinging. Oh, Damn ... that one fella Evan Stone! That man was as big as ... as big as ....

Looking back over my shoulder at the open nightstand drawer I took a deep breath, licked my lips then jumped up and ran to the lady of the houses "toy box" to get what I had seen in it out. Yep! The long thick sex toy could only have been made from Mr. Evan. It was exactly the same.

I was turning it in my hand, as I imagined it attached to that hunk of a man I had just watched, when I had a thought. It was a very wicked thought.

Looking back at the TV, I couldn't help thinking it. I mean I had just seen him. Just seen him putting his cock, (This very monster cock here!) into a half-dozen porn princess, one after another. I had listened to them uttering terribly fake moans of pleasure. Watched their breasts jump when he pushed this thing in and pulled it out like he was a machine. A fucking sex machine, one so damn sexy he had me about to flood my basement.

I began to strip.

Trembling, and not from the chill of the air-condition, I went all the way down to naked. I could have just dropped my pants I suppose, but at that moment I wanted to be so very naughty. I wanted to feel naughty. I wanted to be one of those ladies in that movie with a man that ripped and hung taking me to Sex in City ville. I started the movie over again and crawled onto that huge, clean, dryer-sheet-smelling bed, my body covered in goose bumps. With my back resting on their two hundred dollar pillows and my legs open as wide as I could open them, I watched the movie between my knees. I had my hand curled around that thick rubbery toy and it felt warm in my fingers from all the handling. I began to rub at my clit as the people on the screen got naked.

Then, when Evan Stone opened the legs of a sexy blonde woman and grinned at her, I put the head of the toy, his toy, against my wet parted lips. My body was so jazzed up that even that light touch had me trembling.

"Take me now, Cockmaster!" I said along with the actress on screen. My voice, stronger better toned, covered hers. The slickness of my pussy washed the head of the toy as I pulled it towards me and I felt myself part to let it in, then I moaned with her, mine far more real since it wasn't faked at all. My eyes were far wider than hers as well as I felt the biggest thing inside me that had ever been placed there ... filling me, stretching me. "Oh, my god."

Feeling that, seeing him, watching him start to fuck her, how could I not wish that it was me there in that movie. I wanted to be the woman that such a man was "taking" so very well. Me that his oiled up body was rubbing against. And, when the toy bottomed out inside me and the porn starlets' eye went wide from the same thing happening to her, and I too felt that same pressure against my back-wall that she was. I too moaned.

And I too looked to the right just as she was doing, pantomiming her every motion so that I could be her for a few moments longer. Now, while she was probably looking at the film's director to see what he wanted her to do next I was, on the other hand, looking right at the owner of this house.

Who was recording me on his super expensive cell phone!

"Oh, my fucking god...." I was too stunned to even blink let alone move.

He lowered his cell phone and grinned at me. His slight Australian accent washed over my chilled body. "Having fun with my mom's toys, are we?"

He punched a button and then pocketed the phone in a completely casual move and walked over to the side of the bed. His blue-grey eyes were taking in my every curve. I went to try and pull a sheet over me to hide the lewdness of my current state of undress, embarrassed beyond the ability to believe or speak at my current position ... but he shook his head.

"No, no. No reason to hide now, lovely." He tapped the phone. "I got more than enough, but ...."His eyes went to my legs, that had by reflex snapped together tightly, with that huge thing still inside me. "I'm not the blackmailing type. So, you liked old Evan up there, huh? No, no. Not on the screen, I mean in there." He pointed at my pussy with his chin. That gorgeously dimpled chin. "I'll have to let him know, next time I see him."

He grinned at me.

When he sat down on the bed next to me, and loosened his simple blue tie, I knew I was in more trouble than I had ever been into in my whole life. I was about to lose the easy job, the easy hours, the simple to make good money and all because I had let myself get obsessed with sneaking peeks at other ladies sex toys. I felt the tears start to run down my cheeks.

"Here now, no need to cry. Don't worry your head so. I'm good at keeping secrets." He placed his hand on my knee, his long fingers and big hand covering the whole of it. He gently rubbed my knee, a sensation that felt wonderful given the hours I had spent on them cleaning this week. "Want to know one of the secrets I keep?"

I could not speak. And my simple nod was not even really an answer since I was too, doe-in-headlights, at the moment to really know what I was doing. My only thought was about how I so badly wanted that rubbery "log" out of me. Just its pressure there, with him here sitting next to me, was an inhuman torture of embarrassment.

He looked at the movie still playing, to my even further embarrassment. "I know all of those people there. Hell, both in front of the camera and behind." He looked back with a sparkle in his eyes. "See, I was on the set the day that was filmed. If that camera was to pan to the left about five more meters you would see me there."

The young man, now that I was looking at him up close I could see that he was young, maybe twenty five but not much older, surely. He was looking at me, still naked as I get and with a toy the size of a greenhouse cucumber up my twat, like he was sizing me up for his next meal. That he might rape me flashed through my mind, but then he hadn't done it so far and given the situation there was no way, if he did, that I could ever go to the police. What would I tell them? Or worse what would he tell them?

"Tell me something, lassie... just what possessed you to give this a try? You that hard up? I find that hard to believe, you've got a smoking hot body on yah."

What? What the fuck did he just say? Blinking, I looked at him like he had gone blind.

"You can talk, right?" he asked.

"Yes. Could I just go? Please." I sniffled back a tear. "I was finished with the house. If I get dressed and leave, we could maybe just both forget this ever happened. Yes? Please? Please Sir, I need this job."

He smiled and rubbed my knee again. "I told you not to worry. I'm not the type man to blackmail a woman. However...." His hand went past my knee and down my thigh a bit. "I am the type of man who would , after walking in on a scene like this, love to spend the rest of this afternoon fucking you till neither one of us can walk." His finger's, those long slender fingers with the perfect nails, played with the soft pale skin on my inner thigh, just above my knee. "Would you like that?"

He sat back suddenly holdout both his hands, I felt the sudden lack of his touch to be startling. "Not saying you have to do it or I'll tell. No, you simply have the look of a lusty gal, in need of a good poke ... to settle your ache. Speaking of which, I've been hard as a cob since I walked in here. That's your entire fault you know?"

His smile was infectious. With a blush, I looked down and that's when I saw the size of the bulge in the khaki pants he had on. I swallowed. The toy in me (his mother's for lord's sake, eew!) was still probably the bigger of the two, but it was going to be by only fractions of an inch or so.

When I looked back at his face he was grinning at me. Without another word he pulled his tie completely off and then started on the buttons down the front of his shirt. I wanted to drool by the third button. Oh, damn... six-pack ... no, eight-pack abbs. Oh, for fuck sake. Then he tugged the shirt out and tossed it to the chair nearby. His wingtip shoes followed then he stood up and undid his fly. As that zipper came down I nearly came just from the sight of his lower belly, the shaved to bare skin area where his pubic hair should be. The he tugged his pants down his hips and that bulge I had seen popped free.

Yeah, maybe a quarter inch at best. Oh, my ... well just dip me in chocolate and throw me to the lesbians. My thigh parted just a bit as, unable to help myself, I licked my lips and moved a hand back to touch my clit.

"I'll take that as a yes, girl that hardly speaks." He moved back to the side of the bed and put one knee on the mattress. When he reached across me, and picked up the TV remote, I nearly took a bite out of that tanned, toned skin he looked so delicious. He was gone though before my teeth could snap on flesh. He muted the sound then pointed the remote at another wall and hit other button I hadn't touched. A panel opened and a stereo, I hadn't known was there, appeared. He hit another button and music started.

Slow, soft, you're-about-to-so-get-fucked-by-this-total-stud, music filled the bedroom.

"Sorry, I had to do that. Kylee Strutt might be sexy as all hell, and yeah the girl can suck the fuck out of a cock, but her voice grates on my nerves like mad! Besides ..." He put his hand back on my leg in the same place it had been before. "I wanting to see what kind of sounds you make."

Before I could move to stop him his hand shot down my inner thigh and he took hold of the toy inside me. I let out a sound I have never made in my life, when he tugged it nearly out of me, sharply, quickly, and then pushed it back into my pussy in a way that made me arch my back into the pillows behind me. I screamed at the pleasure of it. He grinned at the wide eyed look on my face.