Norma Egan - Peeping maid

Though she hadn't had enough sleep and winced when she walked, Lita went humming to work. She had a lover now, a real man, who could teach her everything she wanted to know about sex. She'd dreamed of this for years, all those horny sexless years in the convent. She'd vowed that as soon as she escaped that place, she'd fuck up a storm. She knew Miles would gladly cooperate in that ambition.

She couldn't clean any of the bedrooms that morning because every member of the Barton family was still in bed, hungover and cross as bears. The party had still been going on at dawn when Lita sneaked back from Miles’ cabin. She didn't feel a bit sorry for those rich snobs. They'd all snubbed her, and she wished them the worst hangovers possible.

She cleaned downstairs until finally a buzzer summoned her to the master bedroom. She found Foster Barton still asleep, sweaty and grey-faced, and Carol Barton sitting on the edge of the bed holding her head.

"Bring me a Bloody Mary, fast," Carol moaned.

"Yes, ma'am," Lita said, barely containing a grin.

She brought the drink, and Carol almost gulped it. The slim blonde got to her feet moaning, her hair tousled, her face pale. Still even in that condition she looked damned good, Lita had to admit. She felt a little twinge of excitement remembering Carol last night, balling that young blonde stud-but she felt no envy. She'd had a better time, she was sure.

"Have another drink ready for me when I get out of the shower," Carol said, "but be careful not to wake Mr. Barton. He needs his sleep.”

While Carol showered, Lita quietly tidied the room and removed Carol's rumpled nightgown and party clothes. After awhile one slim arm emerged from the bathroom door, and Lita popped another Bloody Mary into the waiting hand. Carol snatched the drink and closed the door, not even bothering to say thank you.

Lita shrugged and went on her way. After putting the soiled clothes down the laundry chute, she decided it would be wise to go back and see if Carol wanted another drink. The mistress of the house would be impossible to live with till she dulled the pain of her hangover. Lita hoped for an easy day, so she could slip out and see Miles…

She started down the hall, when she heard the door of the master bedroom opening. On impulse she ducked into an alcove. Presently Carol Barton swept past her, fresh and scrubbed in a filmy blue negligee. She looked almost feverishly determined about something. She went directly to the room where her stepson, Tony Barton, slept. She turned the knob quietly, slipped inside, and locked the door.

Lita burned with curiosity. What was Carol doing in Tony's room? Why the urgent look on her face? Lita hurried over to Tony's door, knelt, and looked through the keyhole. Tony was totally sacked out, an inert lump under rumpled covers. Carol approached the bed, reached out, and shook his shoulder.

"Tony," Carol said briskly, "Tony, wake up.”

"Whathahell," Tony muttered, opening one eye. "Whaddya want?”

"You know damned well what I want,” Carol said, "and I want it NOW.”

Tony blinked and sat up, throwing back the covers. He was naked. He yawned and stretched, then staggered to his feet and headed for his private bathroom. He left the door open while he took a long noisy piss. Meanwhile Carol opened the curtains and let in the bright yellow sunlight.

"Tony," she said, wrinkling her nose in distaste, "this place smells like a goat pen.”

"Yeah?" he called. "Well, if you don't like it, go fuck my beloved father.”

Carol started straightening up the bed. Tony emerged from the bathroom yawning and scratching his chest. His pale limp cock flopped loosely in its nest of brown tight curls. He fell back onto the bed with a moan.

"Oh, Jesus," he said, "what a head.”

"Me, too," Carol said pointedly, walking over to the bed.

Tony sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he said, "hangovers make you horny. Why don't you get Dad to take care of you?”

Carol laughed grimly. "He's out for the count," she said. "He couldn't get it up on a bet, not this morning. Besides, Tony darling, you know I prefer you… ”

She slipped her filmy negligee from her shoulders and let the garment drift to the floor. She wasn't wearing anything underneath. For a woman in her mid-thirties she looked great, her breasts large and high and firm, her skin tan and smooth and flawless. Tony's interest began to pick up. He eyed her appreciatively as she slipped onto the bed beside him.

"Dad would shit himself if he knew we were balling," he said.

Carol laughed. "You're so innocent," she said. "He knows about it. He considers it good training for you.”

Tony reddened. "Sometimes I wonder about you two," he said. "You sure have a weird marriage.”

"We're no more 'weird’ than you are, darling," Carol said with a touch of irritation. "After all, you didn't hesitate to fuck your own stepmother the first time I asked you. But this conversation is boring me. Let's do something more interesting.”

She rolled over onto her belly, bringing her face over his lap. Lazily she slipped a hand under his pale limp cock and used the other hand to pet the doughy little sausage. Tony gave a snort of excitement and sat up, leaning against the pillows, so he could watch his beautiful stepmother playing with his prick.

"Did you get laid last night, darling?" she said idly.

Tony chuckled. "Yeah, I balled Danielle while she was talking to the Baron. We were on the balcony, him on the patio. He didn't see me, didn't have any idea I was screwing his fiancйe, poor old fart.”

Carol laughed. "Why, darling, how wicked," she said. "I had my own little adventure. I finally put out for Tod Brown.”

"Oh, yeah?" Tony grinned. "The famous jock? Was he any good?”

"Vigorous," said Carol, "but unskilled.”

Lita shook her head in wonder. These people seemed totally without morals. They ratted on the people they fucked, told about it as if it were nothing. And Carol Barton was about to fuck her own stepson. Was she so jaded that she needed incest to excite her?

Carol stroked Tony's limp warm prick, then bent lower and stuck out her little pink tongue and lapped the soft blue-veined cock slowly, up and down, up and down, from his crisp brown bush to the reddish rubbery head. Tony sighed happily but made no move to touch the lovely woman who was turning him on. Like all women, she was just a convenience to him. He was rich and handsome, and the girls came to him, not vice-versa.

"Is Danielle still the great piece of ass you always thought she was?" Carol inquired.

"Among the best," Tony sighed. "Tight little box, good action. She's sure gonna be wasted on that senile old fart.”

"Yes," Carol said pointedly, "there are disadvantages to marrying older men for their money.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow. "Are you sorry you married my Dad?”

"No, I guess not," said Carol. "At least not as long as you're living here.”

And with that she stuffed his limp fat cock into her mouth, sucked it in clear to his rosy round balls in one hungry motion. Tony lurched violently and went red in the face. He sagged back against the pillows, groaning, as his blonde stepmother began sucking his dick fast and juicily.

"Awwwwww, Christ," he sighed, "you eat cock better than anybody I know, Carol.”

Lita felt a strange mixture of emotions as she watched Carol Barton's blonde head bobbing up and down over her stepson's lap. She felt shocked that a woman would make love to her own husband's son, but she also felt powerfully aroused. Cocksucking was something she hadn't experienced yet, but she was definitely looking forward to it. It looked like a real turn-on.

Carol's head jerked faster and faster, and she made an obscene loud slurping noise as she hungrily sucked Tony's dick. Tony was flushed with pleasure, his brown eyes rolling, his tongue creeping out to lick his lips. He was whining softly, steadily.