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From: declans@indigo.ie (Declan Stanley)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.hetero,alt.sex.stories.moderated
Subject: REPOST:The Party - Chapter 1  (1/4)




READ NO FURTHER IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 
OR 
IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF SEXUAL ACTIVITY.
Copyright 1997 by Declan stanley. All rights reserved.


The Party - Chapter 1 (Part 1)
The taxi took a sudden right turn. I heard gravel under the tires and saw a 
brightly lit house silhouetting dark trees and so surmised than the driver had 
turned into someone's drive. I knew 
that Derek had done well for himself since moving down south, but a tree lined 
drive was impressive. It was even more impressive that it took nearly five 
minutes to actually wind our way to the top.
We pulled up in front of a three storied granite house. It looked to be several 
hundred years old, with pillars either side of the tall hall door and large 
Georgian windows. And was probably 
built as the country seat of some lord, or wealthy industrialist.
I began to think that the driver had brought me to the wrong place.
"Are you sure this is Morcome Hall ?" I asked.
"This is the place, guv'," came the gruff reply.
I like to travel light. So all I had was a small hold all with a couple of 
changes of clothes and toiletries in it. It seemed pretty meager compared to 
the granite might of this imposing building. Reaching to the back seat behind 
me I pulled my bag into the front of the car. I looked out the window again as 
I 
slipped the strap over my shoulder. This was not what I'd been expecting when 
Derek, an old school friend of my big brother's, had suggested I'd come down 
south and do some work for him. At the time the offer had seemed infinitely 
preferable to staying unemployed at home. But now when it came to taking the 
last few steps I'd suddenly gotten very cold feet.
Derrick might have done well for himself recently. But surely he couldn't have 
done so well that he could be living in a 
millionaire's mansion. I asked the driver again if this was the
correct address. He was a bit short in his answer, but I had no
option except to believe that he knew where he was. I'd been lost
ever since we'd left the train station.
I paid the fare, got out and looked around. It was a couple of hours after 
sunset so I couldn't make out much of the grounds. But the neighbors either 
didn't have any lights on or lived a fair bit away. I looked up again at the 
house as the taxi crunched gravel and pulled away. The person who lives here 
must have a fortune. So either Derrick had struck gold or he'd robbed a bank, 
because there was no way he could have made that much money out of landscape 
gardening. Even with the inflated prices they charge !
Feeling very unsure of myself I climbed the few steps to the door. There seemed 
to be a party going on, as I could hear loud music thumping away in the depths 
of the house. Ringing the doorbell seemed a waste of time with all that racket 
going on, but I did so anyway.
I waited a couple of minutes. There was no answer. I waited some more. Still 
nobody came. So I rang the bell again. And waited and thought that I should go 
away. But I had no place else to go to, except back home, and I didn't want to 
admit defeat and go running back to my mother with my tail between my legs. 
Then I noticed that the door was slightly ajar. I pushed at it gently and it 
swung open a few inches, letting a wedge of yellow light spring out. I cleared 
my throat loudly, then felt foolish. I pushed the door again and looked past it 
into the hall. 
All I could see was the black and white tiles of the floor and a small mahogany 
hall table against the wall with a gold framed mirror hanging over it.
There was nobody in sight. Looking around one last time to make sure I was 
alone, I gingerly put one hand on to the door and pushed again. It swung open 
fully and I stepped into the large hall. The tiles on the floor were brightly 
polished, reflecting the crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. The 
hall was two stories high and a wide marble staircase climbed up the middle to 
a balcony that ran the width of the hall. Several dark wooden doors could be 
seen on the balcony from where I stood, but they were all closed.
Now that I'd entered I didn't know whether to wait here to be discovered or to 
do some exploring. There were two double doors on either side of the hall and 
another smaller, single door at the back underneath the balcony. All made from 
the same dark stained wood. And all firmly closed. It seemed especially empty 
with all the party noises that emanated from further back in the house.
I decided to play for time by closing the front door behind me, though I left 
the lock on the latch as I'd found it.
When I turned back around again I discovered a young lady dressed in black 
shoes and thick tights, with a long sleeved black dress, over which she wore a 
white frilly apron. I didn't know if she was a real maid or someone attending a 
fancy dress party dressed up as one.
She was holding the handle of the left hand door which was now half open and 
looking directly at me.
"H'hello," I said.
"Who are you ?" she asked.
"I'm Dave," I replied. "I'm a friend of Derek's. He invited me to come."
"Well you're late the party's already started," she said. I was about to 
explain that I hadn't known that there was a party planned, but she continued 
talking before I could say anything.
"Well, now that you're here I supposed you'd better leave your bag here and 
follow me," she opened the door wide.
She sounded like a lady who was used to being obeyed and I had no better idea 
of what I should do, so I dropped my hold all under the table and took a step 
towards her.
She stood there a moment and looked me up and down. "Not bad," she judged. Then 
she turned and quickly walked back through the door she'd come out of. I went 
after her into a dimly lit room. There was a dining table and chairs on my 
left, thick carpet under my feet and two large armchairs angled to face the 
fire place. It being June of course there was no fire lit.
My examination of the room was interrupted because I looked gain at the woman 
I'd followed in and suddenly I realized that her dress had no back to it. She 
stopped a couple of paces in front of the two armchairs. I didn't look more 
closely around me just then because then I also noticed that the skirt of her 
dress had no rear to it either, and more importantly she wasn't wearing any 
underwear. The only thing above her stocking tops was the frilly white bow of 
her apron. My gaze slid down her spine and
fixed on her bottom. Two perfect white spheres with the ends of her apron 
strings hanging down hiding the crack between.
My heart speeded up and my mouth went dry. I didn't know what to say or do. I 
was somewhat embarrassed, because such obvious nudity wasn't something I was 
used to. But I also had the strongest desire to press my palms against her 
buttocks and ease my fingers between them.
Then I heard a long, low, masculine moan. I tore my eyes away and looked beyond 
her to see for the first time and saw a naked man sitting in the armchair 
facing us. His head was rolled back against the chair, his eyes were closed 
tight and his breathing was ragged.
At first I had to assume he was completely naked, it was hard to tell as a 
woman in a long red dress was kneeling in front with her head buried in his lap 
and her long blond hair sprayed across his stomach and legs. But then I heard 
low slurping sounds and he moaned again and I was left in no doubt 
that there wasn't much separating him from her lips.
We stood there for the next few minutes watching this man being administered 
to. The maid was obviously waiting for the woman to finish and my mouth was too 
dry and my mind too distracted by the bulge of pressure in my groin for me to 
say anything. Then I felt the pressure grow. I looked down to find the maid and 
slipped her fingers between my legs and was gently squeezing my now erect 
penis.
"Hmmm, not bad," she spoke softly. "Better than I'd thought at first glance."
I opened my mouth to reply, but couldn't think of anything to say. So instead I 
put my hand on her bottom and slipped the tips of my fingers between her 
buttocks. She smiled, fixing me with her 
large, dark eyes for a moment, before turning her head away to look at the man 
and woman again.
But while she was looking at them she kept her hand on me and gently squeezed 
her fingers around the bulge in my jeans testicles and pressing her palm 
against the rigid pole of my erection in time to the slurps of the woman. So I 
flexed my fingers between her buttocks to the same rhythm.
Suddenly the man let out a low cry. His hips started bucking wildly against the 
woman's face. His hands gripped the arm rests tightly. The maid's grip 
tightened on me and was almost painful.
Just as suddenly the man stopped and relaxed, letting out a long, satisfied 
sigh.
The woman raised her head, kneeling before him and swallowed loudly. "Thank 
you," she spoke in a soft, honey filled voice.
But the maid's grip hadn't loosen on me. "Excuse me, madam," she ignored the 
man completely. "But I found a late guest at the main door."
"Oh, did you," the woman turned to face me brushing her long hair from her face 
and smiled up at me with bright green eyes. 
"Well you know what we do with people who come late, don't you ?"


This story is copyright by Declan Stanley. All rights reserved.
You can read this and other stories on my web site http://www.3dmud.com/declan

Thanks - Declan


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