A Fine Futa Maid

by Gia Maria Marquez

  © March 2016 Gia Maria Marquez

  A Fine Futa Maid

  Futanari Fantasies

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

  This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be access by minors.

  Cover © 2016 Gia Maria Marquez

  First Edition 2016

  “A Fine Futa Maid” appears in the anthology Futa Fantasies as “The Perfect Maid.”

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

  A Fine Futa Maid

  Futanari Fantasies

  By Gia Maria Marquez

  Reg raced home from the office at Aunt Cordelia’s insistence. She sounded eager to see him, but wouldn’t say why over the phone.

  “Auntie?” Reg called out as her burst through the front door. “Aunt Cordelia?”

  Nobody answered, but he heard the tip-tap of high-heeled shoes on marble floors. That couldn’t be Aunt Cordelia. He knew the sound her shoes made against the floor. He knew the sound of her slightly dragging gait.

  He’d been living with the woman since he was seven years old. He knew her better than he’d like to admit.

  But this woman before him… this was not Aunt Cordelia.

  “Hallo,” she said, with an accent of some sort. “You are Red?”

  “I am Reg,” he said. “And you are?”

  “The maid.”

  “No you’re not,” he replied, even though she was superbly attired in a frilly black skirt and tight, low-cut shirt ensemble, topped off with a white apron and antiquated maid’s cap.

  She also wore fishnet stockings and dangerous heels.

  Reg said, “Phillipa is the maid. Where’s Phillipa?”

  “Not here,” the woman said, fluffing her ostrich-feather duster.

  “Where is my aunt?”

  “Not here.”

  “But she telephoned me just now. She told me to come home.”

  The fake maid shrugged. She was up to something. He could see it in her eyes.

  “What?” he asked. “Who are you really?”

  “Kitty. The maid.”

  “Kitty the maid?” he asked flatly. “You’re Kitty the Maid.”

  She nodded.

  This maid did not look like a Kitty. Well, perhaps she did. But she looked like she’d been given that name by some kind of pimp or strip club owner.

  “Why are you looking at me that way?” she asked.

  He hadn’t realized he’d been looking at her any way, but of course he had. How could he not look at her? That petite frame. The poufy skirt, the skin-tight blouse, the open front revealing just a hint of a lacy bra.

  And that face! What a beautiful, fabulous face. If you passed her on the street—without the maid’s uniform, even—you’d turn to get a second glance. She looked like the kind of girl you’d see representing Thailand in a Miss Universe pageant. Or so he imagined. He’d never actually watched one. But the full pink lips, the dark almond eyes, the hair swept back beneath that silly maid’s cap… she was stunning. Perfectly stunning.

  “Who hired you on?” Reg asked.

  “Miss Cordelia.”

  “Ah. But why would she hire you when we already have Phillipa?”

  Kitty began a shrug, but let it fall halfway, and said, “Miss Cordelia thought perhaps you were developing an unhealthy attachment to Phillipa.”

  Reg felt his heart clench and his blood drain into his toes. He felt like an icicle standing in the grand foyer of a millionaire’s mansion.

  Kitty seemed to think his reaction to this provocation was cute. She giggled, and that melted him a bit. Then she went on to say, “Your aunt hired me to provide you some relief.”

  “Relief?” Reg asked, feeling hardly relieved at all.

  “Yes. She took Phillipa to the country house on holiday.”

  “I’m not sure how much of a holiday it’ll be for Phillipa,” Reg said. “She’ll still be cooking and cleaning—just in a more rustic environment.”

  When Kitty turned to walk away, Reg noticed that her fishnet stockings had seams at the back.

  Stockings with seams! Oh happy day!

  He followed her into the drawing room. “Where are you going?”

  “Your aunt hired me to clean. So here I go, cleaning.”

  “Can I watch?”

  “Watch me clean?” she asked. “Of course. You’re the boss.”

  Reg was accustomed to being called the boss, but he never really felt like the boss. Here at home, his aunt took control of finances as well as household matters.

  And at work? Well, he had a corner office, of course, but he mostly used it to practice his golf putt. Every so often he offered input on some matter or another, and the others smiled and nodded, but his ideas were never implemented.

  Sometimes he wondered if they only kept him on because his grandfather had built the company from the ground up.

  Often, as he stared out his 27th story window, he admired his parents for taking off without him to farm cocoa in warmer climes. Must be more exciting than sitting behind a desk getting paid through the nose to do absolutely nothing.

  He was probably getting paid right now, while he sat on the settee, watching Kitty the Fake Maid step up onto the library ladder to dust the old books.

  “Careful,” he said. “Don’t want you to fall.”

  She reached farther afield with the stretch of a ballerina. Just look at those long, limber legs, those glorious, gracious arms. Just look at her crinolines picking up to reveal a stunning set of garters! It wasn’t often you saw a woman with seams in her stockings and garters as well!

  He could feel his body reacting.

  It was strange to think his aunt had orchestrated this encounter, but his aunt liked Phillipa and surely didn’t want to lose her. Reg had to admit, he’d chased off his fair share of housemaids.

  It wasn’t lechery, of course. It was love! He fell in love too easily.

  Really, he had not much else to do.

  But lust certainly factored into things, especially as he stared up Kitty’s crinolines while she dusted the bookshelves. This was certainly more entertaining than staring out the window.

  “How am I doing, Mister Reg? Is this a good job?”

  “A very good job,” he told her. “But why don’t you get down from there? That ladder is dangerous in those heels.”

  “It’s fine,” she replied. “But Miss Cordelia said there would be a reward for a job well done.”

  Kitty turned around on the ladder to look at him.

  “Miss Cordelia said that you would give me a reward.”

  Reg could hear his heart beating and, for a moment, could hear nothing else. “What sort of reward?”

  She set her duster down on the bookshelf and hooked her heels firmly around the bottom rung to steady herself. She didn’t have to lift her skirt because the crinolines did that for her.

  Kitty did, however, shift her black lace panties to one side, giving Reg a clear view at the stunning specimen which lay beneath.

  Hard to believe this was the woman Aunt Cordelia selected for h
im. Hard to believe his elderly maiden aunt was able to assess his preferences and his desires so neatly.

  Reg raced across the drawing room, letting his knees land on either side of her feet on the rung of the ladder. There was scarcely room for the two of them. Her ankles knocked together and she shrieked, then giggled, then ran her hands through his hair.

  “You like?” she asked.

  “Very much,” he replied.

  Her impressive cock twitched, like it had hardness in its sights and, with his mouth, Reg could get it there.

  “Do you mind very much?” He didn’t want to just wrap his lips around a stranger’s dick without asking permission first. That would be such a terribly classless thing to do.

  “Go ahead,” Kitty said, with a tease in her voice.

  Reg wrapped his thumb around her lacy panties and pulled them fully to one side, expecting an ample set of balls to descend. But Kitty had nothing of the sort! Rather than balls, she possessed a sweet set of labia, which unfolded gently as a flower to reveal juicy pink flesh, nectar of the gods.

  Inside his pants, Reg’s shaft turned to steel. It was so hard his trousers frisked him roughly as he bent toward Kitty’s cock and kissed the fat, round tip.

  “Oh, Mister Reg!” she cooed. “I love a man who starts it with a kiss.”

  He kissed her again, this time on the side of her shaft. The skin was incredibly soft, but her cock grew incredibly hard as he kissed it and kissed it and kissed it some more.

  “Feels so great,” she said, still running her hand through his hair. “Now suck it, Mister Reg! Suck the tip!”

  She seemed so excited, and her emotion ramped up his arousal so much he worried he’d come in his pants. But he put that concern out of his mind when he opened his mouth to let her in. Not too wide, mind. He wanted her to feel his lips as her tip passed between them, like a train hitting low-hanging branches as it chugged by.

  He loved the sensation of her throbbing pink head entering his mouth.

  He loved that feel of soft skin on soft skin, both sites so sensitive they gasped in unison.

  Of course, the gasp led him to open his mouth wider, let her in deeper, faster. But she didn’t gag him with it. She was gentle. She was kind. She planted her cock just far enough inside his mouth that he could suck it without feeling overwhelmed.

  It felt good, just sitting there on his tongue. Felt even better when he closed his mouth around the shaft. That’s when he really tasted the scent of her skin. He tasted her sweetness and her musk.

  And she returned the favour by hardening incrementally as he sucked, until her cock filled his throat in a surprisingly enjoyable way.

  He held the ladder. She did too, though only with one hand. With the other, she tickled his scalp, tickled his neck, behind his ear.

  Her touch was so soft, yet its impact was so extreme. He sucked her harder, faster, bobbing his head inside that cacophony of crinolines. She was like some kind of superstar with strange fashion sense. Could she sing? He’d put her on stage, turn her an easy million. She had the looks. That’s for sure.

  “Yes, Mister Reg,” she said, in this high-pitched whining voice that sounded quite desperate.

  She started bouncing on the ladder, which worried him even though it was locked in place.

  “Mister Reg, I’m going to come in your mouth!”

  With that much warning, she did indeed come. She filled his throat with warm cream, so sweet and thick he wished he’d had a better taste before swallowing it down.

  Her hand left his hair and her wrist met her forehead in a classic “woe is me” pose. Her eyelids fluttered and she said, “I think I’m going to faint!”

  She collapsed over his shoulder.

  He rose just fast enough to catch her waist and carry her Viking style to the settee. But not quite on the settee, because her knees ended up on the rug, and her face and upper body lay sprawled on the seat.

  “Are you quite alright?” Reg asked. “Can I get you some water?”

  “Yes,” she said, and he rushed to the kitchen, wondering where the water was kept. He found it eventually, and brought a glass to Kitty. He held it against her pretty pink lips and poured, but she was on an angle and much of it spilled on Aunt Cordelia’s settee.

  Kitty took the glass and sat on the floor and drank and sputtered and drank some more. She almost didn’t look like a flesh-and-blood human. More like some kind of cartoon character. Huge eyes, huge breasts.

  “What happened?” Reg asked.

  “I came too hard,” she said, handing him the glass.

  “Goodness.”

  She untied her apron and took off her top. “Maybe this uniform is too tight.”

  Reg sat beside her on the floor, gazing at her glorious breasts.

  The lace of her bra was black and rose-patterned, and the slight golden tone of her skin glowed through every hole like a ray of sunshine. The heaviness of her breasts impressed him greatly, and he savoured the sight of her rosy-brown nipples, which he could easily see through the lace.

  He wondered if she would take off the bra too, but she didn’t. She kept the skirt on as well, and the crinolines, and the garters and the seamed fishnet stockings.

  Though she did manage to take off her panties. It turned out they tied together at the hips for easy removal.

  Resting her head on the settee, she raised her bum in the air. Her crinolines shot out in a circle around her bare bottom, making it look like a strange black flower with a juicy pink middle.

  Then she reached for Reg’s crotch and traced her hand gently the length of his hardened dick. Her fingers played it like a flute, dancing in one direction, then the other.

  He loved how much she seemed to enjoy touching him, even over his trousers, and he was yet more delighted when she unzipped his fly to find him in the flesh.

  His cock jumped out of his pants and into her waiting hand like it had a mind of its own.

  She giggled and, at first, just watched it jump and twitch. It was cute, the way she smiled at it. Reg felt as though he’d given a sick child a toy and succeeded in brightening her spirits.

  He put the glass on the floor behind them and then set his cold hand on her warm forehead. “How are you feeling now?”

  She nodded and smiled. “Better.”

  Then she closed her fingers around his cock and slowly began to stroke him off.

  “Oh my,” he said. “Your hand is so soft.”

  “It can be hard,” she said, and pulled his dick a little more roughly. “But I prefer soft.” She went back to that.

  “So do I.”

  She smiled sweetly as she pumped his dick, then asked, “What do you want now?”

  In a way, he just wanted to sit here on the floor and allow this girl to fondle him lovingly. But if he came on her wrist, he’d live to regret it.

  “I’ll do anything for you,” she cooed.

  Oh, that just about brought him to climax right there!

  He was somewhat surprised to hear himself say, “Take off your bra. Let me see those fine breasts.”

  Kitty looked surprised, too, but not insulted.

  She sat back on her heels (her actual heels, not her shoes—they’d fallen off when he’d carried her to the settee) and reached around to unclasp her bra. The second she did, the straps snapped forward and so did the clingy cups. It was like an underwear slingshot repelled by luscious skin. She dropped it on the rug and all that was left was this topless maid in crinolines and fishnets.

  “Clean something,” he said, staring at her full and yet still perky breasts.

  Kitty looked around, and he still stared at her tits when she turned. “Clean what?”

  “The windows,” he said. He gave her his pocket square and said, “Use this.”

  “Ahh.”

  She tiptoed to her shoes and slipped them on her feet.

  Then she walked to the large window, which faced out on the back gardens and pond. Unless gardener was in today, nobody should be
hanging around back there.

  Kitty reached up to scour the window in circles with Reg’s square. He could just imagine the feel of cold glass pressing against her big breasts. In a way, he wanted to run outside to see what her soft cock looked like pressed up against the glass and surrounded by crinolines.

  Flattened dick. Flattened breasts. Skin pressed against a clear, cold window pane. She didn’t seem to mind exposing herself to the world, or at least the back garden.

  Reg’s cock hardened as he strolled across the room. Hardened and bounced, he should say. His heat-seeking missile knew just where to land.

  He trapped his new maid against the window and lifted her crinolines. She gasped as he guided his throbbing dick into her salivating slit. He didn’t push it straight in, either. He rubbed his fat tip up and down her chasm, feeling the strength of her pussy trying to suck him in.

  “You want it so bad,” he said, whispering the words in her ear. “My naughty maid is almost naked and she wants my huge hard cock in her cunt.”

  “Oh yes, Mister Reg!”

  She squirmed and he teased her a little more, pressing just his tip to the mouth of her pussy. “Look at you, pressing your parts to my dirty windows. Look at you, showing off for all to see.”

  “Only for you, Mister Reg! I’ll do anything for you.”

  “Will you scream when you come?” Reg asked as he jammed his cock right up inside her snatch.

  She did him one better and screamed right then, and it seemed authentic because he lifted her right out of her shoes. “Oh, Mister Reg! I didn’t expect that.”

  “Expect what?” he asked.

  She stammered, “I knew it was big, but if feels so big! So huge! It’s stretching me out inside.”

  He loved every word, but he loved her body more, and he slid his hands between the window and her front.

  He grabbed her breasts roughly as he thrust inside her, deep as his dick would go.

  She screamed and he went at her again, another violent thrust as he manhandled her tits.