Date: Fri, 17 Dec 1999 17:55:10 -0800
From: J. Ocean <jocean@slip.net>
Subject: my-seventeenth-summer-4

My Seventeenth Summer, Part 4

Things actually didn't change much except that I became Madeleine's lover
as well as her maid and gardener. It was lucky that I'd already been
working for her, since it meant that I didn't have to make excuses to my
folks to spend time at her house, as they had no reason to suspect that
anything was going on other than my picking up some extra cash.

I should have felt weird, I guess, sleeping with Madeleine when she was
paying me. At that point, I would have done everything I was doing for her,
and anything else she asked, for nothing. But she kept paying me at the end
of every week and I didn't feel ashamed; I felt like I was doing good work
and that what was happening between us sexually was something separate. I
spent a lot of the money on new underwear, lingerie, and skimpy, sexy
outfits that I thought Madeleine would like.

We got into a sort of daily routine. While she was at work during the day
I'd do whatever chores needed doing, run errands and do the grocery
shopping, and spend the rest of the time sunbathing and reading. Most days
around 6:30 or 7 Madeleine would call me to let me know she was on her way
home. I'd meet her at the door like some kind of 50s housewife, martini in
hand, wearing something sexy (bra and panties, bikini, tube top and
miniskirt) and sometimes nothing at all.

Madeleine would smile, kiss me, take her drink, and slide a hand between my
legs to feel my wetness, which was always well advanced in anticipation of
her arrival.  "I see you've been warming up," she liked to say. Then she'd
have a seat on the sofa and I'd take off her shoes and massage her feet as
she told me about her day.  I'd slowly work my way up her legs, feeling her
tight, strong calves and kneading her smooth, muscular thighs, then hike up
her skirt and pull off her panties. Then I'd lavish attention on
Madeleine's sweet pussy as she leaned back, sipping her martini with one
hand and stroking my hair with the other, occasionally pulling my head
tight against her crotch as the passion took hold.

When Madeleine was satisfied she'd lift my chin and kiss me on my now
juice-slick lips. That was a signal that it was my turn. She liked me to
pose for her, spread- eagled on the dining room table or on all fours on
the divan or upside-down on the recliner with my head on the ground and my
feet in the air. She'd stand up, smoothing out her skirt, and walk over to
me, still in her suit (now sans panties, of course). Removing any clothes I
might still be wearing, she'd stroke, cup, and suck my tits, kiss and lick
her way down my belly and bush, and give me several overwhelming orgasms.

Then it was time for dinner. It gave me great pleasure to serve Madeleine
stark naked, still feeling the warm afterglow of our lovemaking session,
bustling back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room. Often I'd
be standing over the stove and suddenly feel her lips on the back of my
neck as her hand reached around to cup my still-tingling pussy, pulling me
tightly against her.

By the time we were finished eating, it would be getting late. I hated to
leave but my mom insisted that I be home by ten. I'd get dressed and put
the dishes in to soak, then after a long embrace I'd be on my way, dreaming
of tomorrow.

On the weekends Madeleine would usually still be asleep when I got there,
so I'd make breakfast and bring it to her in bed. Nothing made her happier
than to be awoken by the feeling of my tongue sliding into her cunt, so I'd
always creep into the room and slip under the covers as quietly as
possible. For awhile after that we'd alternate eating breakfast with
rolling around locked in a sweaty, fervid 69. Then we'd while away the rest
of the day laying around naked, reading, watching movies, whatever.

One particular Saturday it was early afternoon and I was lying naked on the
couch watching a movie as Madeleine did some paperwork. Out of the corner
of my eye, I saw Madeleine walk into the room and lean in the corner,
watching me watch the movie. I could tell she was enjoying it so I kept my
eyes on the screen, sensing her gaze on me, feeling my nipples grow hard
and my vagina moist. It had been long enough since breakfast that I was
starting to feel horny again, and I hoped she had something nasty in
mind. After about ten minutes she came up behind me and kissed me on the
ear, and whispered, "Morgan, do you trust me?"

The question took me by surprise but I didn't hesitate in my answer. "Of
course I do."

"Good," she said, and then darkness enveloped me. She had slipped some kind
of blindfold over me and tied it behind my head. The sound of the TV died
away as she switched it off and the room was quiet as Madeleine took me by
the hand and pulled me up from the couch. Her hands encircled my wrists and
brought them behind my back, then I felt the cool touch of metal and heard
two clicks--handcuffs.

Madeleine took me by the arm and led me from the room. This whole thing was
taking me by surprise--I felt strange, nervous, but excited. We walked into
the kitchen--I could tell from the feel of the linoleum--and stopped. I
heard the jingling of keys and then the sound of a lock being turned and a
door opening. I remembered that there was a door leading off the kitchen
that was always locked; I'd never known where it led. Apparently I was
going to find out.

Madeleine took me by the arm again and led me down a flight of carpeted
stairs. At the bottom we took a few steps forward and then she turned me
around. Her hands gripped me around the waist and lifted me up; when she
let go my naked ass was on a cool, soft, leathery surface. The keys jingled
again as Madeleine unlocked the handcuffs and removed them. She reached
around and stroked my thigh. "Good girl, Morgan," she said.

She gently pushed me down onto my back; the surface was cushioned but firm
and felt good against my body. Madeleine lifted my arms up over my head. I
heard rattling and cool metal closed around my wrists, then my ankles. My
legs were apart, my arms held tightly enough to get my attention but not
enough to be painful.

"If you only knew," Madeleine said. "If you only knew how lovely you look
right now."

Nothing happened for a minute. Then I felt Madeleine's hands reach around
my head to untie the blindfold, and I could see again. I was in a spacious,
dimly lit room with wood-paneled walls. I met Madeleine's eyes and saw a
lot of things playing there: lust, mischief, a hint of cruelty mixed with
affection. She had me completely in her thrall and was loving it. And so
was I.

Madeleine did a slow striptease, though it didn't take long, because she
was only wearing a T-shirt and jeans. She jumped up onto the platform where
I was bound and straddled my stomach without actually touching me. Smiling
slyly, she circled her nipples with her fingertips, causing them to harden
exquisitely. I wanted to suck them but I couldn't move. She leaned forward,
dangling her breasts over my head, then back, running her hands up her legs
to her pussy, where she spread her lips and eased a finger inside with a
little squishing sound.

Now she was driving me out of my mind. It was killing me not to be able to
taste her; I strained against the chains that held my wrists and ankles,
fruitlessly. I sighed loudly and tried to relax, not struggle, and enjoy
watching her. She leaned forward again and stared into my eyes from inches
away, her raven hair brushing my face, and brought her fingers, deliciously
redolent of her wonderful scent, to right under my nose. "I bet you'd like
some of this, wouldn't you?" It was a rhetorical question but I tried to
answer anyway; my voice wouldn't work, so I nodded.

Madeleine sat up. "Well, that's too bad," she said. "It's no fun if you
don't have to wait." With that, she leapt up, turned, and left, closing the
door behind her.