Twelve Lays of Xmas

Part Eight of

12 Lays of Xmas

, the full novella version. Cracking along now; no more than eight months late...

The Twelve Lays of Xmas

Eight Maids A-Milking

Early to bed, early to rise. Well, almost. It's hard work receiving this many presents. Imagine how many thank you notes I have to write.

I made breakfast at about 6am - and far too much of it too, forgetting that only Jessica, Orla and myself were in the apartment. Still, we were all famished, and tucked in with gusto. Lisa must have smelled the food, and let herself in, having come directly from a late, late session at the club.

Orla was a little teary, because this was her last day with us. I have to admit that I was struggling for sympathy, because by nightfall she would be on a luxury boat off the British Virgin Islands, but when I mentioned that, Jessica shot me a warning look. Too late, Orla had a little weep and we all had to stop eating to comfort her. And I hate cold croissants.

'I want to stay!' she kept wailing, but when we said that she could stay as long as she wanted, she reminded us she was due in the British Virgin Islands, and she wanted that so much too. Although she hadn't specifically mentioned it, we assumed that she was meeting up with Padraig, a guy she had strong feelings for. Details were hard to come by, however, because there was the added complication of Christmas, which she was supposed to be spending in Dublin, and I decided not to be the pedant whose job it was to point out that there was less than a week to go. In the hot tub last night, I had tried to explain that the Twelve Days of Christmas was eventually sung backwards, and therefore the gifts were to be given in reverse order, with the Partridge In A Pear Tree given on the last day, Christmas Day. Jessica held me under water in the tub until I surrendered the point.

She went off to pack, with Jessica's help. Lisa glared at me.

'What?' I pleaded.

'You're supposed to say it's all right for Padraig to come here too, if that is what she wants.'

'But it

is

all right.'

Lisa rolled her eyes. 'She thinks you'd be jealous.'

'I

am

jealous. The bastard owns a fucking yacht.'

Lisa laughed, but then went back to making a serious point. 'The point of these twelve days, dummy, is that these are Jessica's presents to you. You're the focal point of all this, the main man, the

only

man. Orla can't just ask for Padraig to be invited; how would that feel? We don't know how he'd feel, or how you'd feel.'

'I haven't been the only man. Tasha's guy was here just the other night.'

Lisa moaned and buttered toast in an aggressive way with her knife. She was not a woman to mess with. 'Sometimes, Paul, you are the most stupid man on the planet.'

Just

some

of the time?

I went to the bedroom to suggest to Orla that if it in any way worked for her, why didn't she call Padraig and tell him to cash in her ticket for one for himself coming the other way. Jessica shot me a look that suggested that if only Lisa could be trusted not to reveal that it was her idea, I'd have scored big points. Me, I was still baffled. Why would Orla want to stay here instead of the British Virgin Islands? And why was it almost 8am until I could make a joke about Orla on any island with the word 'virgin' in the name without anyone blubbing?

*****

Just before nine, Cat and Diane arrived, in identical maids' outfits, picked out in a stylish charcoal grey. They had avoided following the cliché of the full French Maid thing, with little aprons and lacy caps, but the flouncy skirts were still ridiculously and deliciously short (and worn over white thigh highs), and the necks dangerously and enticingly scooped. There was a great deal of giggling over the fact they were only decent when standing perfectly upright. There was shrieking when I decided to make them indecent even like that, lifting up the skirts to see what underwear they had on (the answer was none).

Then, to my amazement, they cleared up the breakfast things, made the bed and asked where the vacuum was kept.

'Didn't we do the whole maid/slave girl thing?' I asked Jessica as we sat at the table, watching them parade around the living area in their costumes, tidying magazines and flicking feather dusters over the sound system.

'This is nothing to do with your present,' Jessica replied, sounding just as amazed at the sound of her own words as I was. 'Diane is actually our maid now.'

'Really?' If she dressed like this every day, I'd never get any work done at home. 'What about Cat? She has a job already.'

'She took the day off,' Jessica said, with a laugh and a shrug, as if that could possibly explain everything. We watched for a while longer. Apparently the two of them were prepared to clean the house in some kind of mad feather duster contest, just for the pleasure of knowing we were watching their tits jiggle and their pussies flash. Every now and then they dusted each other.

Orla spent an hour on the phone, at the end of which she was much happier, except that there was some kind of passport/ticket emergency which meant she had to get to the airport. Luckily, Tizianna was able to come over earlier to collect her, and even more luckily, we didn't have to go with her to help sort it out.

'So,' I asked. 'What's on the menu for today?'

'Funny you should ask,' Jessica said. 'I thought we could have dinner.'

'Out?' Was sex in a restaurant bathroom one of my 'kinks'? Jessica and I had certainly done that a few times. There was one place on the other side of the city we would never be able to visit again. Seriously; there was a court order.

'The hell with that,' Jessica laughed. 'I've never had domestic staff before.' Her eyes twinkled. 'We'll have people over, and get messy.'

*****

It took all day to make the dinner party happen. We started making calls. Tasha's cell was off; Jess left a message, then another saying that if she wanted the guy to come too, that would be fine. I called Katherine and Laurie; Laur said Kath was working, but she would come alone, if that was OK. We debated the Charity situation, but decided not to involve some new Dom we hadn't met. Other names were debated and called - Emma and Elizabeth were both free, and so was Laine. Padraig couldn't possibly get here in time, unless dessert was delayed a long time, but Orla would still be here (which was all the dessert he ought to want).

Planning the menu took Jessica two hours alone, and then she had to find people to cater it at ten hours notice. I went out to buy wine. When I came back, Jessica was just getting off the phone.

'Who's Cristal?' she asked, waving the card I had been given the day before.

'She's been doing some photographic work for me,' I explained.

Jessica sucked her lip, devilment on her face. 'Is she cute?' I nodded. 'Good. I just invited her too.'

You'll have noticed that there is no easy way a girl-boy-girl-boy seating plan with the likely guest list. Jessica still had to spend time working everything out, though, to some scheme I couldn't quite fathom. The important thing appeared to be keeping Cristal, Tizianna, Emma and Laine apart. I spent a lot of time wondering what these four had in common, and couldn't crack it.

'So, what was written on today's cards, and who drew them?'

Jessica laughed at my impatient curiosity and insisted I had to wait. Patience has never been my strong point. I tried molesting my woman, but she wasn't telling. I tried molesting Cat, but Jessica had seen through the possibility of that and hadn't explained anything to the maids. Something had them in a state of excitment, though; they went off to the bedrooms to change the beds (again) at midday and they were gone a long time.

Orla got back at about two, and looked more like her normal self. Padraig would be flying in tomorrow, though I gathered that they wouldn't be staying long (the islands had to be a better place to be than a snow-bound city, though my own little piece of the city was a lot hotter these days). She caught up on plans for the evening, and those seemed to make her even more excited (if that was possible). Tizianna was instructed on who she needed to pick up and vanished again. I watched TV for an hour, and then watched the maids help Jessica get the place just right, which was more entertaining, because they had to do a lot reaching up and bending over and suchlike.

The afternoon seemed to drag, all the same, which is something I never thought I would admit. I went to get changed at about five thirty. Seeing as the dress code was casual (I wore my grey combat jeans and a pristine white t-shirt), that took a lot less time than I expected, which meant it was down to me to hassle the caterers, who arrived at about 7.30pm. They were a humourless bunch. A rather butch woman from the Balkans (I'm guessing - but she sounded Bulgarian, and had almost as much facial hair as I did) was in charge of the crew, and bullied the poor lads and lasses mercilessly. She criticised the size of our fridge, our cooker, our work surfaces, and the fact that the maids were a severe distraction to her staff; her crew were most interested in the two maids. If Jessica hadn't been in the bedroom getting changed, she would probably have invited a few of them to stay. Meantime, Ms Bulgaria left me detailed instructions on which heaps of food were to be served at what time, instructions I forgot after about three minutes.

As our guests arrived, and Cat and Diane squabbled over who was taking coats, I started to realise that 'casual dress' meant something different in Jessica's mind. She and Orla appeared in little more than lingerie. Jess wore a backless, one-piece mesh body that made no secret of her tits (they weren't exactly confidential at the best of times) with a pair of loose-fitting pants; Orla had chosen a scooped black bra-top, and a lacy skirt worn over and revealing black panties. They both appeared taller, balancing on spiked heels that caused a lot of laughing.

Few of the guests were quite so undressed, though Laine had a peach mini-skirt and bandeau top that was fighting to contain her tits. Tizianna had brought a change of clothes with her (although I was developing quite a fondness for that driver's uniform), but then negotiated to borrow some lingerie from Orla and Jess, feeling out of place (and over-dressed in jeans and linen blouse). Cristal arrived in a smart tailored suit that made her feel instantly out of place, and she unfastened a few buttons on her blouse in the first five minutes, trying to blend in.

So, there we were, we seven (nine, if you include Diane and Cat, who were really taking the maid thing seriously, tottering around on incredible spiked heels, serving drinks and little pastry entrees). I found myself seated on one side of our square table; Orla and Laine were on my right, Jessica and Emma opposite, while Cristal and Tiz were on the left. Lauren still hadn't arrived by 8.30pm, so we decided to press on without her.

You haven't met Emma before, so let me do the honours. Jessica met Emma at some work function, and they became friends as a result. Emma wasn't a regular caller at the building, and I had only met her once or twice at social events, but she was bright enough to have caught onto the kind of lifestyle Jessica lives. Sometime recently, she expressed the opinion that she would love to come to one of our parties. Actually, I think she told me before she told Jessica... and she had been working her hand across my cock at the time.

So, as you can gather, she is not a shy woman.

We enjoyed a light vegetable starter, and then some grilled chicken and lightly-cooked vegetables for the main course. As usual, the food was light, and though it was delicious and took the edge of everyone's hunger, no-one felt too full after.

The main delight, though, was still to come. A vast collection of dessert dishes were brought to the table, puffy souflees, profiteroles covered in cream, light mousses. There was whipped cream, and chocolate and strawberry sauces on all sides. Our guests were thrilled, and there was a great deal of laughter, and feeding from fingers. Not everyone was eating from their own fingers, either.

I managed to catch Jessica's attention for a brief moment, while I was finding more wine.

'Is that tonight's theme? A food fight?'

'Food and fucking,' Jessica purred. She kissed my cheek. 'Actually, that isn't really what tonight is all about; it just got added at the last moment.' I nodded, having thought to myself that I had never shown any interest in licking chocolate sauce off anyone before, though the idea was growing on me. 'Actually, it's more about inexperienced lesbians... 'first time' girl on girl... that kind of thing.'

That sounded more like my kind of fun, though in a slightly exagerrated non-participation sort of way. I looked around our guests and saw what Jessica had tried to achieve - Tizianna, I knew, had hesitantly experienced her first girl-on-girl fucking with Orla, Jessica and Lisa less than a week ago; Laine, I had observed yesterday, was also very inexperienced with women, and although she had let Orla eat her, she had not been prepared to repay the compliment so far. Emma, from what Jessica had described, was bi-curious in the worst way, and Cristal had confessed her desire the same way.

Jessica had clearly been trying to pair them up with friends she knew would allow them to explore this side of their sexuality. It hadn't been that long since Orla had been the same, nervously exploring her bi side. Lisa and Tasha would have made perfect companions for this, but Lisa had to open the club tonight, and Tasha hadn't called back. Jessica and Orla were going to have to handle this themselves. Thinking back to how excited and giggly they had been all day, I could see that they were prepared for the challenge. I guess they could always call on the staff to help.

'Well, you did promise me a ringside seat at a lot more lesbian sex,' I laughed. 'But what happens if I get needy?'

'You do have two half-naked maids!' Jessica scolded. 'Isn't that enough, damn man?'

Well, yes, she had a point. I couldn't exactly complain, could I?

Dessert progressed. Orla was the first to suggest that the chocolate sauce and cream worked very well together, especially when licked off a bare breast. She carefully folded down the cup of her bra, and painted her nipples with cold cream. Slowly, falteringly, Laine bent down and licked it off.

The atmosphere in the room changed dramatically.

Diane and Cat fussed around the table for a while, bringing different desserts to the various pairings, suggesting what to eat, or who to eat, and with what accompanying dish. Chairs were pressed closer together, bodies uncovered and smeared with sticky confections. I sat back, leaning against the wall and drinking cold Sancerre while I and watched the feast.

Jessica had Emma's dress up around her waist, and was fingering her pussy with fingers slick with chocolate mousse, nuzzling her neck with wet lips as Emma closed her eyes and moaned softly through her gritted teeth. She put her feet up onto the table and pressed her hips onto Jess' hand, whatever reluctance she had expressed to Jessica in the past abandoned in the moment. Her own hand lay on Jessica's stockinged thigh, stroking and squeezing at my lover's leg, the fingers flexing almost automatically. Fingers squelched and slithered in her wet hole.

Orla persuaded Laine to plant her rounded little arse on the edge of the table, and pushed her miniscule skirt out of the way. She smeared whipped cream over Laine's mound, spreading it with her fingers as if she was soaping the smooth skin to shave it, then crouched down at the side of the table and lapped it all off with soft touches of her tongue. Laine sat still, looking down, drinking in every movement, every touch, with her eyes. I recalled how she had surrendered so deliciously to Orla licking a different kind of cream from her rear the day before, and the memory sent shivers up my spine.

And on the third side of the table, my eyes alighted on Tizianna and Cristal, who both looked a little out of place just at the moment. Cristal, in particular, was fidgetting extremely nervously, her hands gripping at a napkin held in her lap. Her long brown hair swept across her face as she tilted her head down, eyes lifted so as not to miss anything. Tizianna had a more haunted, passionate, needy expression on her face, but didn't know how to proceed from where things stood. Her eyes flickered from each of the couples across the table, back to Cristal, as if trying to pick a moment out of the air.

I had my hands under the skirts of our 'maids'. Their attention was elsewhere.

'We really ought to lend a hand,' whispered Cat.

'Go on, then,' I sighed.

'We'll just get them started,' Diane insisted, as if that was possible.

Jessica, still working her fingers deeply in Emma's pussy, looked across at me with a "them's the breaks" grin on her face, and then focussed once more on bringing Emma to an exhilharting, rapid climax. Emma was panting more and more deeply, thrusting her fingers harder onto Jess' fingers, jerking in the chair. She was taking to lesbian sex like a duck to water, which would have made a lesser man suspicious that this really was her first time. I, on the other hand, knew that when Jessica was involved there was a very thin line between being almost bi, and being

way

into sapphic sex. Not long after I had met her, she had told me that her home town was the bi capital of the USA; having lived with her for a while, I could be sure that any town she lived in would take the title very quickly. When she visited Las Vegas, the city blushed.

Laine gradually leaned back on the table, surrendering her pussy to Orla's probing tongue. Even as she started to climax, she was still holding a hand to Orla's head as if trying to push her away, and crying 'no, no' in a breathless voice. Her face was a picture; a portrait of what would almost pass for panic as she realised nothing was going to stop Orla, or the feelings that were welling up inside her. At the same moment Emma let out a lingering moan of pleasure, Laine screamed out 'stop! oh, please, stop!' and exploded in orgasm.

Hmmmm... suddenly I was hungry again.

Off to the side, the maids had helped Tiz and a rather more reluctant Cristal out of most of their clothes. Tizianna was extremely aroused, shifting from foot to foot on shiny black pumps, her tanned legs swishing against each other, thighs stroking deliciously. She hadn't had a lot of clothes to remove, but Diane had taken off her bra, leaving her in just a tiny pair of panties. She looked damn fine; fit, lean, supple. Her nipples were as hard as bullets, and she was leaning back against Diane's body, sighing.

Diane's hands and eyes travelled all over our driver's body, drinking her in, experiencing every inch of her. Such close and intimate attention brought Tizianna into a state of considerable arousal.

'I am so wet,' she said, in a luxuriant voice, full of desire and emotion. As before, I noticed her need to express everything out loud, in her full and rounded Italian accent. 'I need so much to feel a woman's touch, to know this

amor

. I have tasted, but not nearly enough.'

Just as intense, but with much less to say about it, Diane slid her hand down the front of Tiz's panties, whispering hotly into her ear, telling her without words that she would eat her fill tonight, pressing her fingertips onto Tiz's clit through the skimpy cloth of her thong. Tizianna stretched, straightened, as rigid as a board, then slumped into Diane's embrace as if she had fainted. Diane's wrist flexed as she fisted the diminutive Italian deeply.