The Unspoken Arrangement Ch1 A Change in Conditions
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The Unspoken Arrangement, Ch 6: Hard To Be A Woman free porn video
Hard to Be a Woman
Cecilia plays housewife for Ms. Anderson
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He was in the kitchen rounding up ingredients for dinner, still in his
pale blue housekeeping uniform, when Ms. Anderson came in wearing a
black slip. She slipped her delicious body onto a kitchen stool. "Get me
a glass of white wine," she demanded, adding conversationally, "You
know, being a woman is about much more than looking good while carrying
a tray. You need to look good behind the scenes, too. I'll tell you what
-- you cook, and I'll help with your kitchen graces, OK, Cecilia?"
"Yes, Ms. Anderson," he said, bringing her a glass of wine.
"Now, if you're going to be rolling the puff pastry, you'll probably
want a kitchen apron. I have a nice one with ruffles, just your style. I
also have a lovely housedress to match. You left it out in my bedroom
this morning. Why don't you go put those on? You can work on being a
housewife preparing dinner."
Cecilia returned to Ms. Anderson's bedroom. The lacy white bra and
panties he had helped her put on that morning were lying in a tangle on
the bed. Next to them he saw the white dress with pink flowers he had
laid out, and the pink slip, and the beige stockings and garter belt,
and a frilly white cotton apron Ms. Anderson had put next to them.
Instinctively he tidied up Ms. Anderson's lingerie before slipping out
of his housekeeping uniform and pantyhose. Fastening the garter belt
around his waist, he rolled the silky stockings up his shaven legs and
attached them to the clips. He wriggled into the silky, short pink slip,
and then slid the flowered dress up his body, working its snug waist
over his corseted hips, putting his arms through the sleeves, buttoning
the bodice carefully. He tied on the apron, smoothing out the ruffles,
and checked himself in the mirror. He looked like a shapely housewife in
a ruffled apron, ready to make dinner for her husband.
Back in the kitchen, he found Ms. Anderson assembling more ingredients
on the counter. "I made you late, so I'm helping out," she explained,
"but now you're back, so I'll get out of your way." Smiling slyly, she
slid onto the kitchen stool again, showing off her shapely legs as the
black slip rode up her thighs. "You look pretty this afternoon, baby,"
she said in a slight Southern accent. "What's cookin', good-lookin'?"
Cecelia surveyed the ingredients. "Puff pastry salmon, Ms. Anderson. . .
with asparagus bechamel," he guessed.
"Puff pastry like my mother's?," asked Heather. "Oh, and you can just
call me 'darling'."
"Yes, darling. Like your mother's," Cecilia heard herself promising.
"I hope so, baby. I wouldn't want to be disappointed."
"Of course not, darling." Cecilia looked nervous.
"I love the way you swish that skirt. Swish your skirt more when you're
cooking for me."
"Yes, darling," said Cecilia, relieved to change the subject, twirling
the hem of his dress as he reached for the flour. Then, as he bent to
find a bowl, she said,"Whoo-ee, look at your pretty ass. Keep your knees
together when you bend over like that. And show me some leg, honey, I
love your legs."
"Yes, darling," Cecilia said, flustered and embarrassed, pulling his
knees together, feeling his skirt slide across his nylon panties as he
bent over.
"Good girl. You look good in garters, baby. Makes me want to screw you
right here on the kitchen table."
Cecilia looked horrified as she retrieved the mixing bowl and
straightened up. Heather chuckled. "Relax, sweetie-buns, I'm too hungry
for that. You keep your sweet little ass busy cooking my dinner, you
hear? And don't forget to smooth your skirt when you stand up."
"Yes, darling," said Cecilia, obediently smoothing his skirt and apron
before he dusted the cutting board with flour. "Now that's pretty,"
purred Heather, leaning on the counter in her black slip, sipping from a
glass of wine as she taught Cecilia how to please a demanding husband.
-----
"Oh, that's too much for a pretty thing like you, Cecilia, you'll lose
your figure. Put some back."
"But darling," said Cecilia, still dressed as a housewife, as she seated
herself for dinner with Ms. Anderson.
"Put some back, I said," Ms. Anderson ordered. "I'd say you need about a
quarter of that." Meekly, Cecilia returned to the kitchen with his
plate, and came back with a much smaller portion.
"Eat slow and you won't feel so hungry. I tell you what. You take a bite
whenever I take one. Small bites now, so you don't run out."
"Yes, darling," said Cecilia, feeling weirdly trapped as she watched Ms.
Anderson play with her fork.
"What are you looking at?" said Ms. Anderson.
"Nothing, darling. I was waiting for you to take a bite."
Ms. Anderson took a deliberate bite of her puff pastry and looked at
Cecilia expectantly. Cecilia took a tiny morsel of puff pastry and
lifted it to her mouth.
"Now chew it slowly, like a real lady. Oh, honey, you look good like
that."
Cecilia chewed endlessly at the morsel, trying to make it last, while
Ms. Anderson kept a stern eye on her. "Good girl, you learn quick." She
picked up a stalk of asparagus, put it in her mouth, closed her lips,
and withdrew the length of it slowly, sucking off the bechamel sauce.
"Let's see you do that, pretty thing."
Under Ms. Anderson's watchful gaze, Cecilia complied, feeling the
creamy bechamel build up in her mouth as she pulled out the asparagus.
"Now push the stalk in your mouth. Like this, " Ms. Anderson
demonstrated. Cecilia obeyed, pushing the fat asparagus stalk deep into
her mouth.
"Taste it with your tongue."
Cecelia obeyed, tickling the underside of the stalk with her tongue.
"Don't that feel good, sweetie?", purred Ms. Anderson.
"Yeth, darling," mumbled Cecilia around the stalk.
"Push it in and out, get all that sauce off," ordered Ms. Anderson. He
complied, running the aparagus through his pursed lips and back and
forth across his tongue. She watched him quietly, a big smile on her
face. "Now eat it, honey. Just nibble it down real slow, that's a girl.
We got lots of asparagus you can practice on." He nibbled into his
asparagus, while she chomped down hers. "Maybe you'd like something
bigger between those pretty lips. It's too bad my friend John's not
here, he's got something that would fill your mouth right up. I could
call him over if you want."
Cecilia stared at Ms. Anderson blankly, a stub of asparagus still poking
out of his mouth. She laughed. "Maybe another day," she said. "Tonight
it's fish. You like fish, Cecilia?"
"Yes, Ms. Anderson," he said, finishing the stalk.
"Well, that's what's on the menu, honey." She took a bite of salmon and
looked at him expectantly. He took a tiny bite of his own and began to
chew it slowly. He could see this was going to be a long, humiliating
dinner.
------------
After dinner, Cecilia served Ms. Anderson coffee in the living room, and
then went off to do the dishes. When she returned, Ms. Anderson put on
some music and demanded a strip-tease from her "little woman." Cecilia
had to dance, take off her apron and dress slowly and seductively, and
then mince around in the pink slip, lift it to show off her panties,
pirouette for her wife's friend, gaze coyly over her shoulder and
display her derriere, and strike various other provocative poses, while
Mrs. Anderson grinned and encouraged the show with appreciative whistles
and catcalls, as if Cecilia were the main act in her private strip club.
"Now I want you to go to the den and get the big square cushion. Bring
it up to my bedroom."
He trotted off obediently, waggling his behind as he had been trained,
the shiny pink nylon of his pink slip accentuating his feminine walk.
When he arrived at her bedroom, carrying the cushion, she was sitting on
the edge of the bed, her legs spread, her naked pussy exposed under her
short black slip. "Put the cushion on the floor," she said, nodding at
the spot in front of her. He bent down and set the cushion on the
ground, between her legs.
"Kneel on it," she said. He got on his knees in front of her, atop the
cushion.
"Now, honeycakes, show me what your learned today at dinner," she said.
"Put your head in my lap, sweetie, I need your mouth for this." Holding
Cecilia by the head, she positioned his mouth in front of her clitoris.
"Now, pretend you're taking a little piece of fish and chewing it real
slow, there's a good girl." Cecilia began munching gently on Ms.
Anderson's hooded button. She could hear him eagerly inhaling her cunt
smell. After a moment, she ordered, "Now suck a creamy mouthful of
sauce." Cecilia rounded her mouth on the button and carefully embraced
it with his lips, working his way under the clitoral hood, sucking the
love juices from it, pulling his lips ever so slowly away. "Good, girl,"
groaned Ms. Anderson, "This makes your darling so happy. Now eat your
dinner, honeybunch." Cecilia quickly complied, nuzzling her clitoris
gently with her lips as Ms. Anderson gasped with pleasure.
"You look so cute," she told him, "on your knees in your pretty pink
slip, so willing to please. I don't know what makes me hornier, your hot
little tongue or just seeing your cute little pantied bum sticking out
like that. Don't say anything, you little sex slave, just keep licking.
That's right," she moaned, breathing harder. "Good girl! Eat fish, you
little dyke." She grabbed him by the head and pulled him closer,
smashing his mouth and nose into her soaking pussy, grindfing against
his lips and tongue with increasing excitement. "Work it, you little
slut! You can do better than that!" Cecilia kept licking and licking,
trying to please her "darling," but Ms. Anderson wrapped her legs around
his head, and kicked her feet against his back, and demanded more from
her little whore, until Cecilia's tongue and her kneeling body began to
ache from the sustained effort . Finally, after what seemed an eternity
with his face pushed into her squirming pussy, Ms. Anderson began
bucking in spasms of uncontrolled ecstasty, gripping his head tightly
between her powerful thighs. Through the dense pressure on his ears he
could hear her yelling something as she arched backward, her body
wracked with waves of pleasure, while he continued licking frantically,
hoping to bring her off and end his discomfort. Finally she collapsed
back on the bed, released his head, and pushed him away with her feet.
"My god, that was good," she gasped, panting. "Jennifer was right about
you. Oh, and I think you've earned your reward."
She sat up, and with her foot she lifted the hem of his slip. Using her
big toe she drew the waistband of his panties down, snapping it under
his balls to expose his swollen cock. She began stroking the tip with
her toes. He stared hungrily at the sight of Ms. Anderson's moist,
fragrant cunt exposed in front of him, conscious of her smooth thighs,
the delightful curves of her body, her breasts heaving slightly under
the black nylon slip. He was embarrassingly aware of accepting a light
foot job from this stunning woman as he knelt before her in ladies'
underwear, while she sat comfortably on the edge of her bed, smirking
down at him. In a few minutes, despite himself, he came all over her
feet.
"Better lick those clean, hadn't you?" she said. "It wouldn't do for the
maid to leave a mess. You wouldn't want your Mistress to find out."
Reluctantly, he began licking his own still-warm cum off her foot. "Ooh,
that feels nice," she purred amusedly, watching him from above. "Try not
to slurp, there's a dear."
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