Lisa Cach - The Erotic Secrets Of A French Maid

She glanced up at Russ and saw a faint frown between his brows, the delight of a minute before now fading, his erection looking a hair less upright. She was losing her audience. She was doing a terrible job of being seductive.

A squeaky giggle of embarrassment slipped out. "I'm messing this up." She fluttered her hands helplessly in the air. "Do you want me to stop this? This pudding thing?"

"No. But…"

"But?"

"If I could offer a word of advice?"

"Please!"

"Go slow. And drop the accent."

She blushed. "Okay." She could do slow, couldn't she? And dropping the accent was easy enough. He didn't want her to stop everything. Just to slow down.

She closed her eyes and listened to the music. The rhythm was slow and swaying; she could imagine a belly dancer moving to it. Opening her eyes she set her gaze high up on the wall, so that Russ was only a blur in her peripheral vision. She untied the apron and let it fall, then scooped up more of the warm pudding and painted a circle in the center of her torso with two fingers. Trying to forget that she was being watched, she swirled her fingertips in the dollop of pudding and then let them wander across her skin in slow, dancing loops, moving with the beat of the music. She scrolled a path along the bottom of her ribs, letting the music guide her instincts, her fingertips dancing upward to paint the underside of one breast.

She let her fingers slide up over her nipple, the warm slickness of the pudding feeling erotic, turning her own fingertips into a warm tongue. She slid the peak of her nipple into the vee of two fingers, feeling the aroused hardness of it. She pinched it lightly and sensation shot straight down her body. Her lips parted and her breathing deepened.

With her other hand she dipped again into the bowl. She lowered her gaze to Russ, not afraid now to look at him. He was transfixed by her play with the chocolate, his gaze going back and forth between her nipple and her other hand, moving now toward her lower belly.

She smeared the chocolate just above her mound, then played at the tops of her thighs, creating a circle around her sex. She let her fingers go down into what remained of her hair, to smear the warm smoothness over the hood of her desire, stroking it while he watched and feeling the pleasure that came with her own touch. She had never touched herself in front of a man; had never let one watch as she gave herself pleasure. He clearly was enjoying the show, his attention never wavering.

She didn't see him now as the man she was here to please. He was the gorgeous male body she was going to use for her own delight. Her toy, her willing slave who did as she bid.

She climbed onto the bed, straddling him, and moved her hips back and forth over his erection, letting her folds lick his length, his rod massaging her clit as she moved over him. He reached up and held her hips, urging her down harder.

"Don't touch!" she ordered.

He groaned and dropped his hands.

She got down on all fours over him and lowered herself until she could feel his hardness pressing into the softness of her lower belly. She rubbed against him, the chocolate letting her glide over his ridge, then lowered herself farther so her nipples could rub against his chest. His hair tickled at her, stimulating her in a way she would never have guessed.

She glanced up and met his hazel eyes, the color almost swallowed by the blackness of his enlarged pupils. She wiped a bit of chocolate off her breast and painted it over his lower lip. He held motionless while she did, but she could hear his quickened breathing and feel his tension beneath her.

He's mine to do with as I please.

She licked the chocolate off his lip, then sucked at it, running her tongue over the soft silkiness. He started to kiss her back and she withdrew.

She slid down his body, letting her nipples rub against him the whole way, enjoying the feel of him beneath her. His erection slid neatly between her breasts, and that felt good, too. She raised her eyes to meet his gaze, then with gazes locked she pressed her hands to either side of her breasts and squeezed, trapping him between her mounds. Kneeling in a crouch, she raised and lowered her torso, pumping him between her breasts. He gasped, his rod sliding easily in the chocolate, the head popping out between the tops of her breasts at the end of each stroke.

"It feels so good," Emma said. "Feeling you against me, here."

"Oh God…"

"Don't come."

"Christ…"

She slid her hands so that her nipples peeked out from between her fingers as she pressed her breasts. That, too, felt good.

"Emma…"

"I'm not done." She released her breasts and slid lower down his body still, forcing his legs to part and give her someplace to crouch, his erection near her face. There was chocolate smeared all over him.

She licked one of his balls tentatively, not sure what she'd think of it. Chocolate and skin; a faint coat of hair.

She licked again, a little more firmly, enough to lightly splay her tongue against him and take off some of the chocolate.

"Emma, what are you doing?"

"You have chocolate all over you. I have to clean you up."

His answer was a long groan.

Grinning, she lowered her head and went to slow, methodical work, starting at the bottom and working her way upward over every inch. Swirling her tongue at the base of his rod; licking at its sides as if it were a melting ice-cream cone; then finally tracing the edge of his head with the point of her tongue and then rubbing her tongue hard against the spot facing her where head met length. She felt his body hardening, all his muscles tensing.

She rested her closed lips over the tip and parted them slightly to taste the first drop of his desire. She pressed downward, letting the force of her descent open her lips around him, his engorged head filling her mouth and forcing her tongue down. She kept her lips carefully over her teeth and took him until he hit the back of her mouth. She sucked and pulled off him, then went to it in earnest, wrapping her hand around his shaft and moving it up and down in synch with her mouth.

Russ's breathing grew louder and more ragged. He lifted his hands beside her head and she knew he wanted to grasp her, either to stop her or to move her deeper. But he held off, obeying her command not to touch.

She released his shaft and moved her hand down, lightly stroking his balls. His whole body clenched.

"Emma, you've got to stop. Please, Emma! I can't hold back any longer."

She released him, rising up on her knees to look down at him. He lay beneath her, panting. She dipped her finger again into the chocolate and painted one of her nipples, then the other, then slowly brought her finger to her mouth and sucked off what remained. "You can touch me now."

"Thank God!" Russ sat up and scooped her into his arms, then lay her down on the mattress. He lowered his mouth to her chocolate-coated nipple, sucking hungrily, rolling the bead of it against his tongue. She moaned.

Russ heard the moan and felt his crotch respond. He wanted to part her thighs and plunge into her right this moment; but if he did, it would be over in three thrusts. He knew he couldn't hold back much longer.

He laved her other nipple, cleaning it, and felt her raise her hips against him in a silent plea for him to enter her. She raised her knees, tilting her hips for greater contact between them. He licked his way down her torso, sliding his body between her legs, feeling the softness of her lower hair and the dampness of her own desire against his belly.

His need for her burned, but he refused to let his satisfaction arrive with a simple thrust. To slow himself down he moved yet farther down her body until he could slide his arms under her fishnet-clad thighs and bend them, his hands coming up to splay against her hips, holding her pelvis captive. Her sex was bare before him, easy prey to his hungry mouth.