a questo proposito... nel 2001 anche io ho scritto una specie di slash, in inglese... praticamente e' il tema delle lesbichine findus rivoltato: una ragazza accetta di fare da cameriera a un gay per poter ricevere le loro sborrate, guardarli, annusare le loro lenzuola sudate... ^____^ un amore irraggiungibile, sottomissione... c'e' tutto!
http://assm.asstr.org/Year2001/32606
Maid (MM F voy)
by "Besos Hurtados" <besoshurta...@yahoo.es>
(email disattivata... ma se la riattivo, rispondo io;
con lo stesso nome ho scritto anche un racconto
in italiano... spero che siano prove sufficienti).
Yesterday I was reading a drawings book of
Tom of Finland's gay hunks.
They are so well built, and yet they look so
soft, almost like a peluche bear (he he).
They act so lewd, but their face is not
rotten and vicious, it's brave and
innocent. This is a dream about them...
I am Sam's room maid. I clean his home, wash
his clothes and cook for him. He's a black
man, with a thick moustache.
After work, he puts on his black leather
jacket. It nicely fits his muscolar frame.
He goes out to his usual clubs looking for
new friends.
I'm totally worn out and I take a rest on my
couch at the bottom of his king- sized bed,
still in my french maid outfit, with fishnet
stockings, black collar etc.
He's back home at 3 AM, with a new friend.
He's a blond man, as beefy as him, and
wears a white uniform. Maybe a sailor, or
more realistically, an aircraft pilot. They
unzip their trousers, sit on the sofa and
begin to feel up each other. His friend
spots me spying by the door, but Sam must
have told him why I'm here, and he doesn't
ask me anything. They just continue to
undress each other. I walk silently near
them and I kneel near the sofa. I take off
their shoes and I help Sam to get off his
sweaty leather trousers. At last I can feel
their faint real excited man smell under the
chemical-sweet perfums and deodorants.
I watch fascinated as their cocks spring
free and they continue to jerk off each
other to hardness. I hold to the sofa and
rub myself on the corner. I wish I could at
least kiss Sam's spine and rub my breasts on
his ass cheeks, but the blonde man is not
one of his friends I know, I'm unsure if
he'll allow this invasion.
Then Sam whispers something to his nameless
friend: he nods (he looks at me? he's
amused?) and they get off the sofa, they
kneel on the carpet, holding tighter. They
are humping their fat cocks at each other's
crotch. I know what will happen next. I
lay down near them, rubbing myself
frantically. I see their fat cocks and
balls full of sperm between their long lean
legs. Gorgeous, sinful fruits, hanging from
trees too high for little me to reach.
When his friend grunts and comes in heavvy
spurts, I put my hand under their legs,
desperate to catch his orgasm in my fist. I
smear his thicks globs on my lips, panting,
revelling in its acrid taste.
They get up and go to the bedroom. They'll
make love in the men's manner. I may not go
on the bed, but I'll look at them from my
couch masturbating all time through, until
my eyes will be too tired.
Tomorrow morning his friend will leave and
Sam will pretend to be asleep. Then I'll
make his breakfast. After he's gone, I'll
rest for a while on the dirty sheets,
before putting them in the washer and doing
the bed for his next night's friend.
I know he'll never be mine, but his friends
come and go, and I'm here to stay...
-*-
