by Ella Ford
Regardless, I soon found myself enjoying the job and the repetitive monotony. The house was such an overwhelmingly pleasant place to live and work, and my employers were so easygoing, that I frequently thanked my lucky stars that I’d stumbled into this charmed existence.
It wasn’t until several weeks into the job, on a Tuesday, that I had the first inkling that things were not quite as they seemed at the Goddard’s house.
Tuesday was a wash day, and I spent most of the afternoon in the laundry room, sorting through endless piles of dirty clothes, wondering how two women could wear so many different outfits. It was late summer, and the air was warm and thick and sultry, which made spending any time at all in the laundry room deeply uncomfortable.
By late afternoon, I found myself dripping with perspiration and wishing I was somewhere cooler. As I set off the final load, I breathed a sigh of relief and made a mental note to empty the washer later on when it was cooler. Then I headed off into the house to take care of my remaining chores.
When I got to the living room, I found Sarah Goddard relaxing on the comfortable corner sofa, as I frequently did at this time. The tiny brunette looked cool and relaxed, a stark contrast to my own flustered and frazzled appearance.
“Ah, Leanne,” she said, looking up from the book that she was reading. “I wonder if you would be a dear and pick up some iced tea for me?” she asked with a brief flutter of her eyelashes. “You may take my car.”
I nodded. I was used to being sent out for groceries and, if I’m honest, welcomed the opportunity to sit in an air conditioned car for the fifteen minutes it would take to drive to the store. I turned and headed out of the house, pausing only to remove the white apron and place it on my bed.
The trip was uneventful, and I arrived back at the house half an hour later. It was close to six by then. CJ was due home at any time and I still had to prepare dinner. So I set to work, immersing myself in the remaining tasks of the day.
By nine o’clock, my work was complete. I headed to to my room and collapsed back onto my bed, not even bothering to take off the uniform. I was exhausted and the temperature had barely shifted from its mid-nineties high. I sighed, then propped myself up on my elbows, suddenly aware of something that I’d forgotten but not able to bring it to mind.
I sat up and wrinkled my brow, frustrated by the sense that something was missing. After several minutes, I finally remembered, and touched my hand to my forehead in annoyance. The final load of washing! I’d left it in the machine.
I considered leaving it overnight, but then realized that it would need re-doing in the morning to remove the damp smell. So, with a heavy heart, I stood up once more and headed over to the laundry room. My aching legs sang out in protest at the prospect of more work, but I gritted my teeth and forced myself into action.
When I got to the laundry, I removed the clothes and hung them on the drier there, making a mental note to return in the morning and take care of them properly. With a relieved sigh, I headed back to bed, hopefully for the final time that day!
When I walked through the house I noted how calm and peaceful it was. The two women had gone to bed early and the place was dark and quiet, the only sound was the constant summer song of the insects in the garden. I stepped through the kitchen and into the long hallway that ran the length of the house.
As I walked past the master bedroom, I heard the low hum of conversation. I slowed down, keen to make sure that CJ didn’t find me up and around at this time of night. To my surprise, the door to the master bedroom was slightly open, allowing a thin shaft of warm light to radiate out into the hallway. I passed by and flicked my eyes to the left, my curiosity overcoming the guilt of voyeurism.
Abruptly, I stopped dead in my tracks and gasped, startled by what I saw. I blinked a few times, struggling to see through the thin crack between the door and the frame, then leaned closer, confident that I was cloaked in the shadow of darkness but eager to remain completely hidden.
In the bedroom, CJ was sitting on the side of the bed facing away from me. She was wearing a black bra and panties, and appeared as pristine and controlled as she always did. Her long, toned legs were crossed and she was idly filing her nails.
At her feet, kneeling on the floor by the bed, was Sarah Goddard. The petite brunette was completely naked, but for a black satin eyemask. Her arms were crossed behind her back, hands clutching her elbows and chest pushed forwards provocatively. She appeared deep in concentration, her head bowed slightly, appearing to stare at CJ’s feet through the delicate blindfold.
I felt my heartbeat quicken, fueled by the fear of discovery and the thrill of this forbidden scene. I knew that I should leave, that I should allow the women their privacy, but I couldn’t move. My feet felt rooted to the spot, unwilling to risk making a sound, and eager to see more. Ultimately, my curiosity that held me there, against my better judgement.
“You don’t seem happy,” said CJ, still filing her nails absentmindedly. Her voice was low and even, barely more than a throaty whisper.
Sarah’s head flicked upwards slightly. “I am… you know I am. I love you. It’s just… I worry,” she said, a note of nervous trepidation evident in her tone. I wondered what they were talking about.
“You remember what we discussed? Why I’m doing this?” said CJ, dropping the nail file beside her and reaching forward to caress Sarah’s cheek with the palm of her hand.
Sarah cocked her head to the side, leaning into the tender touch, a gentle smile crossing her face. “I do, and I’m sure you’re right and it’ll be fine. It’s just… she’s… I don’t know,” she breathed.
My mind was racing. I had the sense that I was overhearing something important, something that I shouldn’t be hearing. But I was unable to piece it together and was left hungry to know more. Why was Sarah worried? What was CJ doing? Who was ‘she’?
“Everything will be fine honey, like it always is,” said CJ, adopting a tone that indicated that the conversation was over.
“Yes, CJ,” replied Sarah, lowering her head again.
“Now, tell me what you want,” said the blonde, uncrossing her legs and parting her knees slightly.
“You know what I want,” breathed Sarah. She was breathing rapidly now, excited by an unspoken communication between the pair.
“Then beg for it,” purred CJ, relaxing back on her hands.
“Please CJ, please may I,” whispered Sarah.
“What?”
“Please may I eat your pussy?” I caught myself before I gasped, slamming my hand over my mouth. I knew that I shouldn’t be watching this intimate moment, but I couldn’t look away. My thoughts were burning with a curiosity that I couldn’t identify, a need to know see more. I stepped back slightly, sinking deeper into the shadows.
CJ lifted her left leg, angling her foot so that her painted toes were pointing at Sarah’s face. With tender care, she hooked her big toe under the satin blindfold and lifted it off the other woman’s head, flicking it down to the floor beside the bed. Then she tenderly stroked her sole over her wife’s cheek and tilted her head to the side as she studied the kneeling brunette. “You may,” she breathed, then added, “take your time. I’ve had a hard week.” She leaned backwards on her elbows and parted her legs invitingly.
Sarah’s face appeared to relax at this explicit permission. She leaned to the side, rubbing herself on CJ’s foot, then turned her head and began to kiss and lick the wiggling toes. I heard CJ moan softly, a low sigh of enjoyment as Sarah’s slow attention commenced. I leaned forward, attempting to get a better angle, driven by a faint instinct that I didn’t yet recognize.
The kneeling blonde lifted up onto her knees, her arms still folded behind her back, then began to slowly tease her way up CJ’s toned calf to the crook of her knee. She appeared to be completely engrossed in this sensual journey. Her eyes were tightly shut and her dark nipples were rigid and firm, sitting atop her heaving, pert breasts.
Distantly, I felt a surge of
adrenaline within myself. This was the first time I’d ever seen two women together, and I was intrigued by the erotic dance that I was witnessing. I squinted, straining to see more, fighting the rising feeling of shame and guilt that threatened to engulf me.
Sarah’s worshipful ascent continued, her ruby lips touching lightly up the blonde’s inner thighs, each tender kiss provoking her wife and amplifying her desire. CJ was lying back on the bed and her hands were roaming over her body, caressing her stomach, her neck, her breasts. Then she shifted her weight and reached behind her back, deftly flicking the clasp of her bra open and sliding the delicate black lingerie off her breasts. With a casual toss, she threw the bra behind herself in my direction and it hit the door with a soft thud. I jumped back and raised my hand to my mouth again, suddenly sure that I would be discovered. But the two women were lost in their own intimate world of tender kisses and neither one looked in my direction.
I returned to the crack in the door and continued my voyeuristic observation. My mind was awash with conflicting feelings: a deep, burning shame at what I was doing, mixed with an intense, glowing curiosity. But there was something else, something deeper and bolder. A growing bud of warmth that had taken root in my pussy and was pulsing with a gentle throb. I recognized the feeling, but chose not to acknowledge it, not yet able to face the implications of its inviting presence.
Finally, Sarah reached her destination and CJ shuffled her body forwards. With an unspoken understanding, CJ lifted her bottom off the bed and Sarah reached up and hooked her fingers into the waistband of her wife’s lacy panties, then slid them down her long legs. She smiled broadly, gazing down at CJ’s naked body, stroking her slender fingers along the blonde’s firm thighs.
Suddenly, she raised her head and looked in my direction, tilting her head to one side and furrowing her brow as if in deep concentration. I gasped, sinking back into the shadows and trying desperately to remain perfectly still, resisting the temptation to run and never stop.
Still staring at me through the crack in the door, Sarah opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, then caught herself. Instead, her face softened and she blinked three times. Then a knowing smile spread across her face and she casually licked her lips.
Beneath her, CJ moaned insistently, and Sarah turned away from me to look at her wife. She bent her back and lowered her head, positioning her mouth on CJ’s pussy.
I sighed, simultaneously relieved that she hadn’t alerted CJ to my presence, and intrigued by the unfolding scene before me. I stepped forwards again as Sarah began her work, craning my neck to see everything that I possibly could.
I studied the two women: CJ sprawled back on the bed, her long legs spread wide. Her head was tilted to the side, eyes tightly shut, and her hands were roughly squeezing her full breasts. Meanwhile, Sarah’s head was lodged firmly between her legs. I could see her hair, her eyes and her nose, bobbing up and down rhythmically, lost in a world that I could scarcely imagine, but was intensely curious about.
As I watched, Sarah snaked her arms around CJ’s thighs, locking the other woman’s legs around her head, her feet resting on her back. CJ moaned out loud. “Ahh,” she purred, exhaling deeply at the unfathomable feelings that were flooding through her body.
I found myself wondering what it must be like. What it felt like to have another woman between my legs, her soft tongue lapping at my aching folds. Did it feel wrong? Did it feel sinful? Did it feel.... good? And then I flipped my thoughts, picturing the scene from the other side, being so close to a woman’s pussy, to want it so much that I was prepared to touch it with my tongue, my lips. To my surprise, I did not recoil from the thought, did not push it away. Instead, the forbidden consideration thrilled me and I felt a sudden surge of pleasure pulse out from my pussy, causing my entire body to tingle pleasantly.
In the bedroom, Sarah was moving faster now, her head rising and lowering with an ever increasing frequency. Meanwhile, CJ was writhing, her feet stroked back and forth on Sarah’s back, her chest was heaving up and down with every deep breath. Her mouth was open, full lips moist and gleaming in the dim light of the room. “Faster, faster,” she moaned, lowering her hands to grip Sarah’s head and direct her movements.
Gradually, CJ began to move her hips, grinding her pussy against Sarah’s face. In turn, Sarah surrendered to this change, lessening her motions and allowing her lover to use her as she pleased. CJ gripped Sarah’s head tightly, drawing her inwards, locking her hungry mouth on her dripping pussy.
I looked on, scarcely able to believe what I was seeing. Two women, locked in a dance of sensual congress. They appeared as one, a single creature revolving around the central core of CJ’s pussy. They were both moaning now, two voices joined in a harmonious chorus of utter pleasure. I longed to join them, to feel their soft skin against my own, Sarah’s eager tongue and CJ’s rough hands.
Suddenly, CJ cried out. Her spine arched upwards and her head pushed back into the bed. The tiny tendons on her neck strained and pulsed, and her mouth fell open in a silent scream. As the orgasm erupted, she pulled her wife tighter into her, locking her pussy on her lover’s mouth, sealing them in this perfect moment of sexual release. She froze in place as the furious energy raged within her and I began to wonder if she might injure herself, such was the visible tension in her naked body.
And then she relaxed, appearing to deflate before my eyes. Her body went limp, legs and arms falling lifelessly beside her, releasing Sarah from between her thighs.
The petite brunette gazed over her wife’s shattered body and smiled, then slithered up onto the bed with cat-like grace, wrapping her legs around CJ’s and laying her hand on the other woman’s breasts.
I stepped back, breathing heavily, heart pounding in my chest. I’d seen enough and had to leave. With tiny steps, I tiptoed down the hall and found my way to the tiny bedroom. Then I collapsed on my bed, face down, unable to move, my mind raging with unfamiliar thoughts and peculiar urges.
Sleep didn’t come easily on that sultry night. For endless hours I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wishing for a light breeze through the open window, something to extinguish the new flame that burned within me.
But nothing would quench that raging fire. Ignited by idle curiosity and fanned to its peak by my rampant imagination, it burned within me. I found myself unable to think of anything beyond the stolen memory of what I’d seen. The velvet softness of Sarah and CJ’s skin, the soft rise and pert firmness of their breasts, the long sweep of their naked legs. I thought of Sarah, her head bobbing up and down as she lost herself in the delicious sex of her statuesque wife. I thought of CJ, towering over her kneeling lover, commanding her to give pleasure and take it in equal measure. And I imagined me, caught between them, our limbs wrapped together, our bodies touching, tongues dancing between us.
As I lay there, wrestling with the insistent longing that pulsed in my loins, slowly but inevitably I came to the conclusion that my simple life would never be the same again.
Chapter 3
For the next week, I tried to put the memory of what I’d seen out of my mind. I found it hard to reconcile the sordid scene with the feelings that it conjured up inside me, the way that it played over and over inside my mind, haunting my dreams and my waking thoughts alike. These urges were alien to me, and unwanted, they rubbed against every instinct that my upbringing had given me and I hated myself for them.
As luck would have it, after seeing CJ and Sarah and their intimate encounter, I found myself with the house largely to myself. CJ was away on business for the week, a long conference in Las Vegas that she seemed genuinely excited to attend. Meanwhile, Sarah was busy with her own projects, spending most of the time in her crafting room and emerging only to eat and sleep. She seemed preoccupied with something, but it was not something that she wanted to share with me so I didn’t pry.
It was early evening on the sixth day of CJ’s trip and I was about to finish my work and retire to my room for a well dese
rved rest. Suddenly, from down the hallway, Sarah called my name. I looked up and put down the feather duster that I was using to dust the pretty artefacts in the living room, then hurried across the house to attend her.
She greeted me with a warm smile. “Oh, hello Leanne. Say, I’m beat… would you be a darling and run me a bath?” she asked.
“Of course. You want it now?” I replied, happy that it wasn’t anything more sinister. I found myself remembering the way that Sarah had appeared to look directly at me, the faint certainty that she knew I was there, watching the pair of them together.
“Yes, I’ll be right in,” she added.
I turned and walked to the large bathroom across the hall and began to fill the round tub with warm water. This was not an unusual request. Sarah liked her baths and took them regularly, spending hours in the soapy water, reading books on her Kindle and sipping white wine.
After a few minutes, Sarah joined me in the bathroom. She was naked but for a delicate, white satin robe. She smiled at me warmly and approached the tub, swirling her hand in the deep water.
“Will that be all?” I said, preparing to leave her to it.
She turned and looked at me, a strange expression flashing across her pretty face. “N-no Leanne, I’d like you to stay,” she said quietly.
“I… okay,” I said, not entirely sure what she wanted me to do.
“Help me out of the robe Leanne,” she said and turned her back to me. I stepped forward, suddenly feeling very nervous and reluctant. I wanted to leave, to scurry back to my room and pack my bags, returning to my straightforward life that was a world away from this strange situation. But I didn’t. Instead, I stepped up behind her and reached around her arms, gripping the soft satin and sliding it back over her shoulders.
