Message-ID: <15058eli$9809070716@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: john_dark@anon.nymserver.com Subject: {UncleMike}JDR"Newhart The Made Maid A"(MF FF cheat)[1/2] Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Note: This message was posted by a secure email service. Please report MISUSE OR ABUSE of this automated secure email service to . Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <6svj2g$8u7$1@sparky.wolfe.net> 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 codes in the subject line are intended to inform readers of possible areas that some might find distasteful, but neither the poster nor the author make any guarantee. You should be aware that the story might raise other matters that you find distasteful. You read at your own risk. The enjoyment of these reposts can be increased by reading the "Coming Attractions," which includes the titles to be reposted in the next week. These stories have not been written by the person posting them. Many of those e-mail addresses below the author's byline still work. If you liked the story, either drop the author a line at that e-mail address or post a comment to alt.sex.stories.d. Please don't post it to alt.sex.stories itself. Posting the comment with a Cc: to the author would be the best way to encourage them to continue entertaining you. The copyright of this story belongs to the author, and the fact of this posting should not be construed as limiting or releasing these rights in any way. In most cases, the author will have further notices of copyright below. If you keep the story, *PLEASE* keep the copyright disclaimer as well. ===================== 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- -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----