My Perfect French Maid

My Perfect French Maid was exactly what my pussy and I needed.

 

 

“Eva?” I said as I opened the door. “Hi, I’m here about the job.” she said.

I knew right away that I may have just found My Perfect French Maid.

“Oh, ok. Can you clean a pool?”
“No. I don’t do housework, either.”
“You know that is what I need, right?”
“I know it’s what you think you need,” she said, and walked right in and looked around. She walked in a sophisticated light manner, like a supermodel would. There was a seductive submissiveness about her that I found hypnotizing. She landed in the sunroom.
“Here would be a good place.”
“For?” I asked.
“The rest of the interview,” she said, and slipped out of her clothes.

My Perfect French Maid has indeed arrived, I thought to myself.

Beneath lay a rather revealing set of lingerie, all white, garter and stockings, no panties.

A matching white shelf quarter cup bra, that came to just below her perky pink nipples, which looked invitingly erect.

I took a deep breath as my heart raced.

“I see,” I said, as my pussy got wet. “Well, you said you don’t do housework, so…”
“Oh, I do it. If you like, but I find I tend not to finish before I get interrupted.”
I felt my body tremble as I took her in. I watched as she got out a white silk piece of cloth and put it over her eyes. Tying it in the back, and then got on her knees, her legs spread out.
“Here I am, on a platter, just for you.”
“Like I said, you need more than a maid. I’m yours,” she said, her voice thick and inviting. “Use me. I can do more than dust, you know.”

My Perfect French Maid was like a dream come true.

I swallowed hard. The temptation of what Eva offered was overwhelming me with desire.

Slipping my middle finger of one hand along the crack of her ass I slipped it up her butt, the other found her pussy. And she melted to my touch. Her clit was engorged and hot, her pussy wet with desire.
Pulling the finger out of her ass, I smacked her firm round ass. “Ohhhh,” she gasped again. Her cunt contracting around the finger in her pussy. She was for real. I bent down and took her nipple into my mouth and bit it, maybe a little too hard, but I wanted to eat her up.

After standing back up, I walked around her. Goosebumps raised wherever I touched.
My Perfect French Maid was intoxicating, and soon she was begging for more. She smiled as she felt her body being used as my playground. Everywhere I touched seemed to send sparks of pleasure through her body.

“You’re my fantasy. I love surrendering to you,” she said. “Let me give myself to you.”

This declaration confirmed that I truly had found My Perfect French Maid.

I sucked Eva’s pussy juices off my finger, then lifted my dress and pulled down my panties.

With my foot, I pushed her hard onto her back and straddled her face. Her mouth and tongue caressing my pussy, I shook with desire, I was so close already. I could have drown her in pussy juice when I squirted allover her face.

“Well, did I pass the interview? Do I get the job?” Eva asked.
“Yes baby, you did. You are My Perfect French Maid”

 

When I’m not finding My Perfect French Maid, I’m sometimes finding My Valentine’s Day Stripper. Read all about it in my last blog.

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