"Lola, The Dirty Little Maid"
by J.D. Savanyu
My fancy oceanfront house was becoming a pig sty, so I picked up the phone and hired a maid. They said her name would be Lola Robida, so I assumed she would be a frumpy Hispanic
mujer...
but she turned out to be a bombshell from France, with shiny white skin and a thick continental accent. I've often fantasized about genuine French maids while jerking off, but your odds of meeting one in America in the twenty-first century are about one in a fucking
billion.
Her name is Lola, and she looks like a showgirl. I want to fuck her like a hooker in the Paris Red Light District. On a beautiful summer afternoon, I work up the courage to make a move. I go out to a pool deck overlooking the ocean, and sit near an artificial waterfall cascading down artificial rocks. I smile at Lola through a picture window as she polishes a $10,000 credenza
.
I give her a "come hither" finger wag, and she steps out to the pool deck with a naughty grin. I wish maids would wear those old sexy black dresses with white lace and matching caps, instead of these bland masculine corporate uniforms. Damn those feminist bitches, ruining all our fun.
"Is a beautiful day, Mister Savage," Lola beams.
"Not as beautiful as you, Mademoiselle Robida."
She giggles and tosses her shiny chestnut hair. This French lady has 'skank' written all over her. I bet she opened her legs for Jean-Claude Aubel, a bisexual fashion mogul, when she was a housekeeper at his mansion in "
Gay Par-eee.
"
He probably fucked her in the asshole, hard and fast, while picturing one of his queer boyfriends
.
"I like you too, Mister Savage," she utters sweetly.
"You remind me of my Sally, my ex-wife. A sweet woman-child."
She grins wider. "Want me to sit on your lap, like sweet little girl?"
Damn, this is too easy.
"Sure. Make yourself comfortable, Lolita. I mean, Lola."
She giggles girlishly and straddles my lap, draping her arms loosely around my shoulders.
"I feel like naughty girl today. Do you want to play with my
chatte?
"
"Uh..." My dick starts rising.
"Do you know what
chatte
means?"
"Pussy."
"Good boy, learning your
fran
ç
ais
lesson! You earn big reward. You can fuck my pussy-cat, in your master
chambre
."
"Fuck the bedroom. I want to fuck you right here in the sunshine, and the salty breeze."
She giggles louder. "Crazy rich pervert, just like Jean-Claude
.
"
She kisses me passionately, while seagulls squawk overhead. A typical French dame, insisting on foreplay.
"All right, that's enough tongue wrestling. Take off everything except your bra."
She obeys my order promptly, removing her blue maid uniform and her black French-cut panties. A nice hairy European crotch. The way every crotch should be. She gives me a curious look as I get butt-naked on the concrete pool deck.
"You no like my big titties?"
"I love your big titties, but I'm saving them for tomorrow. Give me something to look forward to."
"
Oui oui,
I will show
mes seins
tomorrow, titty-fuck you so good
.
" She drops to her knees and performs fellatio with reckless abandon. Going down on me like Marie Antoinette on a vanilla creampuff.
"Let them eat cake," I utter stupidly. Lola laughs with a mouthful.
"What if your neighbors call cops?"
"Don't worry,
mon cheri
. My neighbors are also fucking one-percenter perverts."
She laughs again, and shoves my schlong back in her mouth.
"Now I will treat you like Jean-Claude
.
" She goes to a nearby mini-fridge and takes out a $500 bottle of Armand de Brignac champagne. She opens it with a corkscrew, fills a cocktail glass, and takes it back to my chair.
"This is how we give blowjobs
en france.
"
She sprinkles it right on the tip of my penis. A sweet sting on a sensitive spot. She sucks it off with enthusiasm.
"God damn. I want some french fries with that chili dog."
She giggles with a mouthful, then splashes more champagne down there. My mind drifts back to a Filipino slut who deep-throated me on a toilet in the Yale Business School. Until now, she was the only foreign lady in my Little Black Book.
"I want to lick your french creampuff."
She's utterly confused. "I am good at cleaning, not cooking."
