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Subject: {UncleMike}JDR"Newhart The Made Maid A"(MF FF cheat)[1/2]
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JOHN DARK REPOST
The following story is posted for the entertainment of adults. If you are
below the age of eighteen or are otherwise forbidden to read electronic
erotic fiction in your locality, please delete this message now. The story
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The enjoyment of these reposts can be increased by reading the "Coming
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=====================
NEWHART
The Made Maid
By Uncle Mike
Part A:
"Stephanie, I never said you weren't pretty. I just said that some men
prefer, well, different types of women." Joanna grunted as she lifted a
sack of potatoes from the car. "You can't expect every man to drool over
you."
Stephanie continued to sort through the brown grocery bags, searching
for the one with lightest load. "And why not, Joanna? You don't really
expect me to believe those boys were looking at you in THAT way, do you?"
Joanna, a tall, slim woman of about 40, pushed a wisp of hair away
from her face with the back of her hand as she leaned against the door of
the inn she and her husband ran. As usual, she wore simple clothes -- a
bright wool sweater and a pair of brown slacks. The clothes weren't sexy
themselves, but the way Joanna filled them out gave them a special appeal.
The horizontally striped pattern of the sweater accented the swell of her
large breasts, and the curve of the slacks hinted at the long legs and
tight ass beneath them.
She paused a few moments to get her breath back -- she had made 10
trips back and forth from the car to Stephanie's one -- before turning to
the young maid. The irritation in her voice was barely veiled. "Stephanie,
why can't you admit that those boys were whistling at me? They were looking
right at me. It's not the first time that's ever happened to me, you know."
Stephanie faced Joanna, hands on hips. She was shorter and clearly
much younger, with a pert, expertly made-up face and a halo of blond hair.
The short, cream skirt she wore showed off her perfectly shaped legs, and
it was clear from the outline of her white blouse that she was in excellent
shape, although her breasts were certainly not as large as the older
woman's. Her coral-pink lips were drawn into a pout as she spoke. "I'm
sure," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "The bag boys probably
want you to have their babies all the time. But I still say the ones who
whistled were aiming at me. They must have just been looking at you to
figure out if -- oh, I don't know, to figure out if you were my mom or
something. Let's face it, Joanna, you're no spring chicken."
With an exaggerated sigh, Joanna pushed past the younger girl and
picked another bag from the trunk. "Let's just forget it, Stephanie."
The maid fished a bag out of the back seat; it contained only potato
chips and a loaf of white bread. She trailed Joanna to the back door,
waiting while the other woman put down her load of canned goods and opened
the screen door.
A few minutes later, when they were both busy putting stuff away,
Stephanie started up the argument again. "I just think it's time you faced
the facts, Joanna," she said. "A girl like me -- beautiful, slim, young,
rich -- I can get any man I want. They would be lined up 12 deep at my
bedroom door if I didn't make it clear I wasn't interested. Why, you know,
that's probably why those boys weren't looking at me! They saw that I was
too good for them, so they were afraid to look me in the eye when they
whistled." She nodded her head to punctuate the thought.
Joanna stretched to put some beans on a top shelf. Over her shoulder,
she said, "You can believe what you want, Stephanie. But we both know that
a lot of men like a woman with more, well, more development. I've had my
share of wolf whistles. With this chest, I have to expect it."
She gathered up several boxes of cereal -- pointedly holding them in a
basket of her arms, presenting her breasts as if on a platter. "And let's
face it, Stephanie. You're young and pretty, but you just don't have the
shape that a lot of men want."
The young maid's eyes blazed, but she didn't say a word. Turning
abruptly on her heel, she stomped out of the kitchen. Joanna called after
her to no avail; with a sigh, she finished putting away the groceries
herself.
=== === === ===
Dick Loudon was typing away in his den, writing another epic of home
improvement, when he heard a soft tap at the door. Before he could call
out, Stephanie slipped inside and shut the door behind her with a click.
He looked his question at her over the tops of his half- frame
glasses. Stephanie batted her long eyelashes. "Now, Dick, I know you're
busy with that writing thing you do, so you just go right ahead. Hee-hee --
that was a joke, wasn't it? Go "write" ahead? Get it?"
Dick glared at her. He was a very ordinary man, with thinning grayish
hair, an unexceptional body and the perpetual look that said he wasn't sure
what was going on but whatever it was he wanted nothing to do with it. His
angry looks could be distinguished from his happy ones mostly by counting
the number of wrinkles in his forehead.
"Stephanie," he said patiently, "I'm in the middle of a chapter here.
The grout has just been applied and I have to tell them what to do next or
it'll set and there'll be hell to pay. Can this wait until later?"
From behind her back, Stephanie flourished a feather duster. "Just
doing some cleaning," she said. "Forget I'm even here."
With that she set to work. That in itself was enough to make Dick
suspicious, but she seemed to be serious about it. He went back to his
typewriter.
From time to time, in between paragraphs, he looked up to see the maid
busily going about her job. Once he saw her reaching high to dust some of
the books on a top shelf. As she reached, the hem of her skirt lifted and
Dick admired the long, shapely line of her legs; with her standing on
tiptoe, the sexy curve of her ankle was emphasized. Another time she
reached down to a bottom shelf and Dick looked up just in time to see a
very sexy ass waving in his face. He felt a stirring in his crotch that he
ignored.
The next time he looked up she was nowhere in sight. But for a faint
swishing sound behind him, he would have thought Stephanie had left the
room. Without another thought for her, Dick went on typing.
In a few minutes he became aware of a faint floral smell, a scent he
knew from long familiarity was Stephanie's perfume -- a personal blend she
had a shop in Paris make up for her, she'd said once. Alerted to her
presence, he wasn't startled when she began speaking.
"There," she said, "just about finished. And I didn't interrupt your
typing, did I?"
Dick shook his head, keeping his eyes on the page as he tapped out the
end of a sentence.
As he poked a finger at the period key, he felt a gentle pressure on
his shoulders.
"Ooooh, you look very tense," Stephanie cooed. "How about a nice neck
massage?"
Without turning to look at her, Dick frowned. "What is it, Stephanie?"
"What's what, Dick?"
"What are you asking for?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Stephanie, you haven't dusted this room in six weeks. And you've
never given me a neck massage. C-c-c-come to think of it, no one's ever
given me -- a little more to the left. That's it."
Her probing fingers erased the concern from his mind and Dick closed
his eyes and sagged back against the chair. She was very good at his, he
noticed; he could feel the tension draining out of him as she rubbed away
at his neck and shoulders.
"There's a little teensy-weensy knot right here," Stephanie said,
rubbing hard at a spot just below his right shoulder blade. "I think I need
to get a little closer to it. Do you mind?" As she spoke, her hands slipped
around Dick's sides and she unbuttoned his shirt. He leaned forward a bit
to help her pull it down, and then settled back again as she went to work
on the trouble spot. Her hands felt warm on his flesh as she kneaded away.
"Th-th-that's perfect," Dick sighed. Stephanie then began scratching
his back with her long nails. Little shivers of delight rolled like waves
through his body. He was so lost in pleasure that he didn't really notice
when her hands strayed from his back and began tracing a path across his
stomach, down to his belt buckle. It was only when Stephanie undid the
buckle, simultaneously slipping a hot, wet tongue into his ear, that Dick
came to with a start.
"St-st-stephanie, wh-wh-what are you doing?" She had undone his pants
and slid down the zipper before he could get a grip on the desk's edge and
spin himself around. When he had spun halfway around, his feet slammed into
the floor, stopping the twist abruptly.
Stephanie stood before him almost completely naked, clad only in a
lacy white garter belt, sheer white hose and her shiny high heels. Her
perky young breasts stood out firm and erect, with the dainty aureoles
capped by perfect nipples. Her lips were parted slightly, forming a pout
that seemed much sexier than Dick had ever noticed it being before.
Before he could say another word, she stepped toward him. "Touch me,
Dick," she commanded in a husky whisper. "I want you. I want you now."
"You want m-m-m-m-m-me?"
"You know I do," she said, and pointed at his crotch. "And you want
me, too." He couldn't deny it. His boxers were tented high as his stiff
cock strained at the restriction. Dick licked his lips and stared. She
seemed too good to be true, all that lush young flesh. It was like a dream.
He didn't know what to do first, but Stephanie took his hands in hers
and brought them to her breasts.
"Do you like my breasts, Dick? Are they big enough for you? They're
not too small, are they?"
"No! They're -- they're perfect." He squeezed them, thrilling to their
firmness. She had the tits of a teenager, and it had been a long time --
well, actually, he'd never felt a teenager's tits.
As he groped, Stephanie tugged his shorts down, freeing his cock to
wave in the air like a fat flagpole. At her touch he shied away, but she
gently placed both hands around his shaft. Her touch was warm and soft; her
hands had obviously never done hard labor. Dick felt a few drops of pre-cum
ooze out the tip as she caressed his rod.
"That's a very nice cock you have, Dick," Stephanie whispered. "I like
men with nice, big, hard cocks. Do you know what I like to do when I get
one? Do you?"
"N-n-no," he stammered out, his eyes still fastened to her chest.
"Ooooh, I like to touch it, like this. I like to rub my hands up and
down and feel that nice, hard cock rubbing against my fingers. And do you
know what else I like to do?"
He could only shake his head.
"I like to lick that long, stiff cock all over with my hot tongue. And
then I like to put that cock in my mouth and suck on it, up and down, until
it spurts out cum all over my face."
As she talked, Stephanie continued to rub his cock. Dick's hands had
fallen back and his eyes were closed as he felt nothing but the sensation
of her fingers on his shaft.
"Would you like me to do that, Dick? Would you like me to put that
hard cock of yours in my little mouth? Would you ..."
"Yes!" He couldn't get the words out fast enough. "Yes, yes, oh God,
yes!"
Stephanie knelt down before him and gently pressed his legs apart. She
leaned forward and kissed the tip of his cock before opening her lips and
taking him into her mouth. Her lips closed around the shaft, gripping it
tightly, while her fingers circled the base and continued to pump. The
combination of the sight of her beautiful naked body and the feel of her
hot lips on his shaft didn't take long to get to Dick and within minutes he
was moaning as white jets of cum shot out of his cock. True to her word,
Stephanie swallowed them all, even licking the head of his rod to get the
last few drops.
Dick felt drained, and he sagged back in his chair. But Stephanie
appeared perky as ever, rising to her feet only to plop herself down onto
his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a long, deep kiss
on his lips. An orgasm usually left him feeling sleepy, but her kiss
quickly revived him. He slipped one arm around her slim waist, letting the
other hand fall to her silky bush. She wriggled in delight as his fingers
tickled their way to her slit, already moist with secretions.
Stephanie's obvious delight in his actions made Dick feel like a kid
again -- like the lover he never was. Tenderly, then with more and more
passion, he drove his fingers into her slit as her pussy juices coated
them. All the while they kissed and suckled each other.
"Oh, Dick, that's so good," she whispered in his ear. "Oh, god, do you
know what else I want to do now?"
Dick had to take a deep breath before he could answer. "Wh-what would
that be?"
"I want to fuck you," she said simply, and the words sent a jolt
through him even more than when her lips had first closed on his cock.
"B-b-but I-I-I..." He paused and started again. "I can't d-do it so
soon..."
"Yes you can," she giggled. To his surprise, Dick realized it was
true; he could feel his cock beginning to swell anew.
"And I really want to fuck you, Dick. I want that hard cock inside my
pussy. I want to ride it so hard! And you're going to make me cum, Dick. I
can feel it. You're going to make me cum so hard! Won't that be fun!"
With one last long, deep kiss, Stephanie twisted around so that her
back was against Dick's chest and his cock was poking up between her legs.
She had to stroke it only a little while before it was once again stiff.
With Dick holding her tightly around the waist, she lifted herself up and
scooched forward, putting her soaking wet pussy lips directly above his
shaft. In one long, slow, fluid movement she lowered herself and buried his
cock in her up to the hilt. Dick pressed his mouth to her neck to muffle
his scream of ecstasy as he felt her tight cunt walls enfold his rod.
"Ooooh, it's as good as I thought it would be," Stephanie cooed, while
she wiggled around on the stiff cock. She began to pump away at it, bathing
it in her secretions, squeezing it with her pussy lips. Guttural grunts
escaped Dick's lips as his hands reached up to squeeze her pert breasts.
Stephanie bent her head around to plant a wet kiss on his face. "Do
you like this, Dick? Am I doing OK?"
"Perfect," he managed to get out. "Perfect. Just -- perfect."
It was almost too much effort to speak, now; he wanted to concentrate
only the incredible sensations. Stephanie's body felt as light as a feather
on his lap, but her cunt's attack on his cock was strong and determined. He
had never imagined their stuck-up maid could be such a sexual being. She
was a goddess and he was worshiping eagerly at the temple of her body,
driving his cock into her as a sacrifice to her beauty. Or at least that
was one of the mental images flooding his lust- crazed mind as they
continued to rut away with abandon, the desk chair squeaking beneath them.
"You're doing it, Dick," Stephanie said with a gasp. "Oh, god, you
really are! You're going to make me cum! I can feel it! I can feel it! I
can aaaaaaauuuuggghhhh!"
Stephanie's flailing orgasm brought on his own, and another surge of
cum shot out of his cock, this time filling the girl's hot pussy and oozing
out the sides to mingle with her own gush of fluids, pouring down his cock
and onto the seat. With his last reserves of strength Dick drove his
faltering cock into her cunt once, twice, a third time, squeezing the last
bit of jism from it before his rod shriveled and his muscles gave out.
Just a few seconds later Stephanie rose off of him and briskly slipped
her clothes back onto her sweaty body. Dick sat in a rapidly cooling puddle
of their fluids, too exhausted to move.
"We-we-we've got to clean this up," he called out weakly as Stephanie
moved toward the door. "What if Joanna ..."
"Sorry, Dick, it's my lunch hour now," the young girl said saucily,
closing the door behind her.
=== === === ===
As Stephanie stepped out from behind the front desk, with her hands on
the top button of her blouse, Joanna came into the lobby, pushing her way
through the door from the dining room.
"Stephanie, where have you been? I had to put all those groceries away
by myself. And it turns out we forgot to get the steaks and things for the
special dinner we promised the Fergusons Saturday -- you remember, the
anniversary couple? You'll just have to -- Why are you looking at me like
that?"
"Oh, Joanna, Joanna, Joanna, you poor dear woman."
Joanna ignored the comment -- a typical Stephanieism, she thought.
"What was I saying? Oh, yes, you'll have to -- stop that!"
Stephanie paused with her hand halfway to another pat of Joanna's
shoulder. "I'm sorry, Joanna, it just makes me feel so sorry for you to see
how wrong you were."
"About what?"
"About how some men prefer women who are, you know, over-endowed? As
opposed to well-built, perfectly shaped young women like, well, like moi."
"Stephanie, I don't know what you're talking about, but you're going
to have to ..."
"Oh, Joanna, you silly thing! Of course you know what I'm talking
about. Our little conversation in the kitchen? You ..."
"I remember, Stephanie, but what does that have to do with anything?"
"Just this, Joanna. You said that I wasn't enough for some men. But I
know at least one man who's had a chance to compare you and I, and I know
exactly who he prefers. 'Perfect,' he called me. More than once."
Just then, Dick poked his head out of the door to the den. "Steph--
Oh, hi, Joanna. Uh, say, do we have any, uh, Lysol?"
"Lysol?" Joanna was beginning to think the whole inn was going crazy
around her -- not that that was unusual. "Why in the world do you need..."
"Oh, no reason," Dick said, "but d-d-do we have any?"
"In the basement, I think," Joanna began, "but I still don't
understand..."
Not waiting for her to finish, Dick scuttled across to the basement
door and disappeared down the steps. Joanna, who had started across the
lobby to talk to him, slipped behind the front desk, her face in a frown.
"Now what could he have..." As she spoke, she opened the door to his den
and took half a step inside. "Good heavens, this room smells like a
whorehouse!" She slapped a hand to her mouth. "Not that I have any idea
what that smells like, of course, I mean..."
Stephanie, giggling, was leaning on the other side of the reception
desk. "Now do you understand what I was talking about, Joanna?"
The older woman's face grew dark red. "You, you, you," she spluttered,
unable to say more.
"That's right, Joanna. Little, young, petite, 'perfect' me. Guess you
were wrong about what men want, weren't you?"
She snatched out of Joanna's hand a small sheet of paper. "Steaks,
baking potatoes -- oh, I get it, you need this from the market. Well, I
think I'll leave you to think about what happened, Joanna. Bye!" On her way
to the door Stephanie intercepted Dick climbing up from the basement. "Come
on," Stephanie said, slipping a hand around his back. "You can drive me
into town."
"Oh, but I have to ..."
"Don't worry, Joanna won't mind! Will you, Joanna?" Stephanie smirked
toward the desk, where the older woman was standing stock still, her mouth
half open. "See? Joanna doesn't mind. Oh, and say, Joanna, if Michael
calls, be a love and tell him I'll be back in a couple of hours, won't
you?"
The door slammed behind her just as Joanna thought of the perfect
comeback. She almost spat it out anyway, but the phone's insistent ring
interrupted her train of thought.
=====================
NEWHART
The Made Maid
Part A
By Uncle Mike
-30-
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