The Sweet Life

Andrea and Allen Hartall lived a pleasant upper-class existence: a nice house, two cars, a beautiful young housekeeper....

 

(FF, MFF)

By: Punchinello for Pulp Erotica

 

San Francisco, 1961

“Janet?” Andrea Hartall called to her housekeeper. She had only just returned home from the office and even now stood in the hall, laying down her briefcase and gloves, slipping out of her suit jacket.

“One minute, ma’am,” came Janet’s answer from the second floor. Andrea looked thru the doorway into the sitting room. She didn’t see Janet on the staircase or the upstairs hall, which was open to view.

“Where are you?” she asked. “Come down.”

A moment later, Janet poked her pretty, young head around the corner and looked down on her employer. Her dark hair was curly wet and dangled lightly about her bare shoulder. “Taking a bath, ma’am.” She left her pouty lips in the M shape.

“Has Mr. Hartall been home?” Andrea always referred to her husband as “Mr. Hartall” in front of Janet. After some thought, she had decided that it was more formal than “Allen” and less possessive than “my husband.”

“No, ma’am,” Janet answered. “But he called to say he wouldn’t be home until late; he was to be working with another company head on a deal.” She brushed the wet strands of hair out of her face.

“What deal?” Andrea asked casually. “Did he say what deal or what company?”

“No, ma’am, he didn’t. But he did say to tell you that he was quite sorry because he knew that today would be a rough day for you and that he would have liked to have been here.”

It had indeed been a rough day, but it had worked out to Andrea’s advantage. She was tired now, but in a good mood. “Thank you, Janet,” she said. Then, “Why are you taking a bath in the middle of the day?”

Janet smiled a sweet, guilty smile. “When the mister said it would be a rough day for you, I thought it might be relaxing for you to come home to a hot bath.” She had a bath towel with her, behind her back, and squirmed into it, trying to keep her head, and her head alone, in view. “But when you didn’t come home as usual, I thought I might just as well not let a hot bath go to waste.”

A hot bath did sound good to Andrea, and it was a thoughtful thing for Janet to have prepared it. Now she felt bad that she had allowed herself to be late. “That is an awfully nice thought, Janet, I’d love a hot bath.” She kicked off her shoes then, as if she would finish Janet’s bath for her.

“I’ll go drain the water,” Janet said, coming out a little further and pushing her wet hair back from her face, “and I’ll refill it with good, hot water.” Her creamy shoulders gleamed still with droplets of water.

“Oh, no,” Andrea protested, “go ahead and finish your bath. Then you can draw one for me, if you would.”

Janet leaned on the banister railing with one hand and held her towel to her breast with the other. One bare leg showed from around the corner, long and smooth. She smiled her appreciation to Andrea. “Thank you, ma’am. I won’t be long,” she said. She hiked up her towel and disappeared back down the hall.

Andrea tugged her shirttail out of her skirt and sat down in the overstuffed chair beside the stairs. She pushed the shoulder-length blond hair out of her eyes and relaxed. She could hear the sweet and petite twenty-year-old splashing in the bath, presumably trying to work up some soap suds in the cooled water. She wondered if there would be any hot water left, but then decided that there surely would be. She also decided that something else she wanted was a good rough massage. Maybe she could get Janet to give her one after her bath.

Andrea lounged for a few minutes, close to dozing, before thinking that she had better go up and undress. She plodded up the staircase, unbuttoning her blouse as she went. She realized suddenly that the water was running in the bath and that she had probably slipped into a light sleep for a few minutes. She hadn’t even heard Janet come out of the bathroom.

Just then, the bathroom door came open and Janet slunk out, a pale blue towel wrapped around her slim middle. Her hair was still a little wet and was slung back and loosely tied with a length of ribbon. “Your bath is just about ready,” she said cheerily.

“Wonderful,” Andrea replied warmly. She could almost feel the steamy caress of the water just by seeing the rising steam down the hall and from seeing Janet’s pert, pink person. “Janet, could you do me another big, big favor?”

“Sure,” the girl answered brightly. She gave her shoulders a little shrug and held onto the bath towel around her. The towel only covered her down just below the thigh, and her long, tan legs must have been a little chilly in the open air.

“Could you also give me a good, full massage?” She caressed the back of her neck to show that that was where it ached the most. Her unbuttoned blouse came open, and she held it closed with her other hand.

Janet gave a tight, maidenly grin. “Sure, ma’am,” she said. “Working at a desk all day will do that; it tightens up all the muscles in your back and neck, and you never get a chance to loosen them.” She sounded silly, dispensing chiropractic wisdom, standing in the hallway in nothing but a little towel. It gave Andrea the most sudden and delicious urge for mischief she could remember. She suddenly felt devilishly like stripping off Janet’s length of pale blue cloth, smacking her on the round little ass, and sending her squealing into her bedroom. She fought the urge—she’d never had such a sexual thought about another woman before.

“Thanks,” she said simply. But she couldn’t help but smile a little. She turned away quickly and slipped into her bedroom to undress.

Andrea slipped out of her blouse and skirt, stripped off her pantyhose, and lay back on the bed in her bra and panties, tired and aching. She stretched her neck and shoulder muscles, pressing her head this way and that and then collapsed back onto the bed, deciding that she would let Janet work out the kinks. She unhooked the clasp and shrugged her brassiere off with a sigh, relieved to be free of it. For a moment, she caressed her shoulders where the straps had been and then gave up again, deciding to let Janet do that, too.

She stood, finally, slid her panties down over her hips, and let them slide to the floor. She stepped out of them and ran her hands over her belly and her hips, relieved to be free of panties and pantyhose, too. After a moment, Andrea went to the closet for her bathrobe. It was a wonderfully comfortable thing—fluffy white terry cloth, and heavy enough to lounge around in on a Sunday morning. She slipped it onto her shoulders and tied the belt loosely, delighted with the warm, relaxing feel. She considered lying down again, but feared she might fall asleep.

Andrea found Janet still in the bathroom, shutting off the bath faucet and stirring up the water to create more bubbles. She already had a great heap of white suds waiting, inviting. “Oh, thank you, Janet,” Andrea said with genuine gratitude. She untied the belt around her waist and let the ends hang free about her bare legs.

“Here you are,” Janet said, wiping her sudsy arm against her toweled body. “I’ll be back for your massage,” she said, and slipped lightly out of the room. Andrea closed the door behind her and let her robe slip off her shoulders. The perfume of the soap bubbles was a soft incense in the air and Andrea sighed gratefully for it. She let the robe fall about her feet and stepped away from it, languid and sultry.

The water was hot—too hot to simply splash into—so she had to lower herself slowly into it. She slid, inch by decadent inch, into the hot, bubbly cauldron as a certain look of perverse satisfaction to cross her delicate face. She stroked the soft, short hairs on the back of her neck with one hand and the soft, pale flesh of her inner thigh with the other.

With a sigh and languid stretch, Andrea surrendered to complete relaxation. She lay back, closed her eyes, and let the warmth of the bath penetrate her body and subdue her utterly. Her hands drifted over her creamy skin, caressing her softest, most sensitive flesh in a moment of sensual excess. Then, slowly—almost without realizing it—Andrea began stroking the soft mound between her thighs.

Suddenly, the door popped open and Janet came thru, smiling, bright-eyed, and still clad in nothing but her powder blue towel. “Oh—” Andrea began, blushing bright red all over, and looking around casually for something to cover herself with. She gave up in a moment, deciding that she was adequately clothed in soap suds.

“You wanted a massage...” Janet said, puzzled.

“I meant after my bath,” Andrea said, still red and flushed, but concealing her embarrassment.

“Oh. Uh.” Janet looked around absently, as if she had lost something. “I brought some massage oils,” she said, holding the little bottles out for inspection. “Massage oils work best if it’s hot and steamy.” She stood on one bare foot and put the other on top, rocking nervously as she got her balance.

“Oh,” Andrea said. The room was certainly steamy. “All right, all right,” she said, giving in. “What kind of oils do you have?”

Janet smiled and bent down close. Her had to hold her towel close to avert it coming loose, and then she prudently decided to simply curl up beside the bathtub. She spread the bottles out in her hands and began turning the labels face up. “Cinnamon. Wild Berry. Here’s Lilac. What kind do you want?”

“What’s Wild Berry smell like?” Andrea asked, rising up a little.

“Mmmm—” Janet thought aloud, opening the bottle. “Like strawberry and blueberry, kind of.” She crossed her legs and leaned up against the tub, holding the bottle close to her nose.

Andrea bent forward to get a sniff. Her breasts bobbed up for a moment, tight little nipples peeking thru the bubbles puckishly. The oil seemed to her a little more fruity than berry—more like apple and grape. “It smells good,” she judged, “but I don’t know if I want it all over my body.”

“True,” Janet admitted, “it is a little fruity for all over. Cinnamon is good, but it’s kind of hot and sexy.” She opened that one next.

“Oh, mmmm,” Andrea cooed, “that is nice.” She thought she might like that one, but she was a little afraid to say so. “What else is there—Lilac?”

“Lilac and...Rose,” Janet said, examining the other bottles. “Lilac’s nice, but it’s too...old-ladyish.” She scratched her thigh absently.

“How about Rose?” Andrea asked.

“Rose is nice,” Janet admitted, “but do you want to smell flowery or more spicy, like Cinnamon? I’d say Cinnamon.”

“Okay,” Andrea agreed, “spicy Cinnamon.”

Janet put the other bottles aside and opened up Cinnamon. Then she gave Andrea an appraising look, up and down—as far down as she could see. “You lean forward—on your stomach,” she said. “If you put your arms on the foot end, then you can lay your head on your arms.”

“Okay—” Andrea said, sitting fully upright. She disregarded the fact that she was rather more exposed, and tried to make the reversal of ends as gracefully as possible. When she was so arranged, she realized that her soap suds had become depleted to the point that little or none covered her rear and her legs.

“Here we go,” Janet said, smoothing oil onto Andrea’s pale flesh. The heady aroma filled the room immediately, giving it the air of a warm bakery. The two young women breathed it in gratefully and sighed together softly at the rich, warm scent.

Janet bent over and began massaging Andrea with long, slow, strong strokes. Her small hands went up and down the bare back, working at the stiff muscles, releasing the tension in them and eliciting soft moans of pleasure and pain from Andrea’s throat.

“This is really good,” Andrea murmured.

“I can’t get much leverage tho,” Janet remarked. “Let me get one leg in the bath; I think that’ll help.” She threw one leg over the side of the tub and placed it between Andrea’s legs. “Now we can do this right,” Janet whispered huskily. She leaned into her work now, rubbing the oil into the skin, working the knots out of the muscles.

“Oh,” Andrea moaned. “Oh, that’s tight. That hurts.”

“That’s where it needs it the most then,” Janet chided, and she continued to search out the tightest spots on Andrea’s back, working her way up and down, back and forth. Soon she found herself flushed and heated from rocking back and forth on the edge of the tub. Her pussy was getting hot and wet.

“Maybe I’d better—” Janet said, pausing in her work. She tugged the towel up higher again to cover her peeking breasts.

“If you stop now,” Andrea warned ominously, “I’ll kill you.”

“My, uh, towel keeps slipping,” Janet protested.

“Just take it off,” she sighed. “It’s just the two of us.” Janet loosened the towel and squirmed around on the edge of the tub as she pulled it out from under her little round bottom. She let it fall away to the floor and leaned into her work again, massaging the aches out of her mistress’ back.

“Oh, that is so good,” said Andrea. “I’ve got to have you do this more often.”

“Just say so,” Janet offered agreeably. Exposing herself completely, she put one long, bare leg into the water beside Andrea and twisted her fist into the woman’s unyielding flesh.

“Mmmmmore,” Andrea groaned. It wasn’t long before Janet gave in completely and crawled into the bath with her mistress. She straddled Andrea and sat down lightly on her legs, just below her ass. Then she began to stroke Andrea’s lower back and thighs. “This is kind of awkward, Jan,” Andrea said, a bit embarrassed. With every stroke, she could feel the younger woman's closely trimmed bush brush lightly against her round rump.

“Well, it’s really the only way,” Janet replied with a shrug. She worked her hands firmly around Andrea’s shoulders.

“Oh, that feels good,” Andrea confessed.

“It always does,” said Janet. “People don’t realize how tense they get sometimes.”

“I guess I do get awfully tense at times—” Andrea admitted.

Janet continued working the warm, lean muscle of Andrea’s weary body. She used her whole hands and arms, pinning Andrea in place with her lean, athletic legs. Their naked flesh rubbed together smoothly in the soapy water, slipping back and forth so that Janet had to use considerable force to keep in place above Andrea.

“Tell me what hurts,” Janet said, treating her roughly, “and what feels good.” She jabbed her thumbs into the coiled muscle of Andrea’s lower back.

“Oh, Janet! Oh!” Andrea cried.

“Does it hurt ma’am?” Janet asked innocently.

“No, no, no—” Andrea began. “I mean, yes, it hurts, but—oh!—it feels good, too.”

“Good,” Janet smiled, massaging the soft flesh deeply, loosening the knotted muscle with long, hard, circular strokes. “That’s means it’s working.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Andrea cooed. “Mmmm, Janet, that feels goooood.” Janet’s hands worked expertly: roughly first, then gently, then rough again. With each change, her employer was moved to new degrees of pain and pleasure, intimately mixed, which she voiced almost constantly. Her moans and groans soon became incoherent, and she was lulled into a state of deep relaxation, her entire body warm and numb.

“How far do you want me to go, ma’am?” the young woman asked innocently.

“Do everything,” Andrea breathed.

Janet licked her lips and bent close. “Everything?” Janet asked softly, kneading Andrea’s tight buttocks. Andrea giggled.

Janet ran her hands up and down Andrea’s smooth thighs, caressing rather than massaging, fondling rather than rubbing. “Oh, Janet,” Andrea whispered.

“You’re very tense, ma’am,” Janet chided. “I think you need complete relaxation.” Her hands played lightly over her mistress’ bare back and buttocks.

“Mmmm,” Andrea mumbled. “I don’t know....”

“Trust me, ma’am,” Janet said. “I know what I’m doing.” She rose up out of the bath and put one leg over the side, straddling the cool, unyielding edge. “Let’s go to the bedroom, ma’am.”

Andrea’s eyes were wide and timid as she looked at her young maid. Janet stood tall and proud in her wet and naked state. Her breasts were round and firm, with tight, erect nipples. Andrea rose and took the hand that Janet offered to help her out of the tub. She was totally exposed and desperately aroused. She suddenly felt like some young sorority girl being led to her initiation. Janet tossed a towel over her arm and turned Andrea slowly toward the door, leaning close around her, opened it. Their wet flesh was pressed together again, this time outside the protective confines of the bath water. It was electric—sexual.

Janet marched forward, down the hall, chilled by the cool air outside the bathroom. Gooseflesh rose all over her body. Her nipples puckered into tiny nubs. Janet’s small, warm hands urged her forward. They went into the bedroom, where Andrea’s clothes lay scattered about on the floor and bed.

When they stood beside the bed, Janet took the towel and began to pat Andrea dry. She patted the towel up and down the woman’s slender body, pressing it briefly between her thighs. Then she turned Andrea around and toweled off her mistress’ front. Silently, the young maid caressed her employer’s breasts, stomach, thighs, and legs. Andrea could not help but notice the girl’s lithe young body and the neatly-trimmed fur around her vulva—that same furry patch that had rubbed against her in the bath.

“Lie down,” Janet directed. Andrea obeyed wordlessly as Janet took the moment to roughly dry herself. Andrea lay on her flat belly, arms at her side. Janet caressed her smooth, cinnamon-scented skin with firm, but gentle, strokes. Andrea began to relax again as she warmed, slowly easing down from her earlier arousal. She gave in to Janet’s quiet ministrations and drifted into a drowsy languor.

Then, slowly, Janet slid her fingers between Andrea’s warm thighs. Andrea’s gasped and whimpered; her re-arousal was sudden and complete. Sex juices flooded her pussy. She bit her lip and half-turned to her pretty young housekeeper. “Are you going to make me come?” she asked quietly.

Janet leaned forward and touched the tip of her tongue to Andrea’s lips and flicked it softly. She sucked a kiss from the woman’s half-parted lips and asked, “Do you want to come, ma’am?”

Andrea pressed a kissed back on Janet’s soft lips. “Yes,” she confessed. Janet pressed gently against Andrea’s shoulder, urging her to turn over, to lie back and expose herself again. Andrea rolled over slowly, timidly covering her bushy mound. But Janet brushed her hand away and slid her fingers into the groove of Andrea’s warm wet pussy. Slowly, she bent over her employer and began to tongue her hard nipples.

Andrea groaned aloud and sighed hotly. “Ohh, yes, honey. Oh yes....”

Janet pressed harder against Andrea’s juicy pussy. “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” Andrea admitted. “Yes.” Janet stroked her smoothly, rhythmically, again and again. Andrea’s breath came in hot panting gasps. At last, Janet spread Andrea’s legs a little further and lowered her head between them.

“Oh God!” Andrea gasped. “Oh my God!” Janet giggled and drove her tongue into Andrea’s hot pink groove. She lapped up the juices that oozed out of her lover’s hole, making Andrea squeal. “Suck me! Oh, suck me, honey!” Andrea cried.

Janet sucked and licked Andrea’s pussy with total abandon. Her left hand snaked up her new lover’s body and pinched her nipple hard. Her naked body brushed against Andrea’s super-sensitized skin. “Oh fuck!” Andrea cried. “I’m coming! Oh, honey, make me come! Oh Janet, yes! Yes!”

When it was over, Janet rose up over Andrea again, a bashful smile on her beautiful young face. For a long moment, the two women stared at each other silently. “How do I taste?”

Then they came together in soft sensual kiss, the scent of girl-musk mixing with cinnamon. “Good, huh?” Janet breathed.

“Mmm,” Andrea agreed.

Janet asked, “What will you tell Mr. Hartall?”

Andrea looked away. “Nothing, honey. He can’t know. He wouldn’t understand.”

“But he’s a nice man....”

Andrea turned back. “Do you like Mr. Hartall, Janet?”

“Oh yes, ma’am!”

Andrea smiled. “I think I have an idea.”

 

Allen Hartall returned home late—well after dinner. He’d gotten something on the way, and it sat like a lump in his stomach. Still, he’d accomplished what he’d needed to for the day.

He dropped his briefcase at the door and went into the living room. No one was around. Perhaps Andrea had given Janet the night off. He wandered up to the bedroom to see if Andrea was around.

There, lying casually on the big bed, sweet, young, and nervous—and totally naked—was Janet.

“Janet? What are you—?”

“Good evening, Mr. Hartall.”

“What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like?” she asked coyly.

Allen loosened his necktie and swallowed hard. She was absolutely beautiful; just as he had fantasized about so many times. But he had never dreamed of laying a hand on her. His wife was a lovely woman and still very sexual; they had no problems in the bedroom. Until now.

He went to her. She looked up with big, doe-like eyes and pouty lips that almost melted him. “Janet, you’ve got leave. What if my wife—”

“Shh,” she said, touching her finger to his lips. “She said she won’t be back until late. A friend of hers asked her to come over.”

“But—” he was completely speechless. And he couldn’t take his eyes off her beautiful body, slender and damp from a bath, fragrant and inviting. “Oh my God,” he breathed. Janet reached up and pulled the loose tie from around his neck and let it slither down across her bare thigh.

“Allen?” It was Andrea in the doorway. “Oh my God. What is going on here?”

Allen turned, panic-stricken. “Andrea!? Wait...honey...it’s not what you think!” Janet, covered her breasts with her hands demurely.

“Oh, don’t start, Allen,” Andrea said, pushing her hair back. “I can’t believe this. No. No, I should have known. I should have known.”

“She w-was just here,” he stammered. “I didn’t—” He was at a total loss.

Andrea gazed back coldly. “How long has this been going on?” she asked, strolling casually around the end of the bed so he could face both of them.

“It hasn’t!” he protested. “I swear!”

“Allen she’s right here...and in our bed!”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hartall,” Janet said softly.

“It isn’t your fault, dear,” Andrea said kindly.. She began unbuttoning her blouse casually. “Do you really need more than I could give you, Allen? More than...this?” She pulled open her blouse suddenly, exposing her marvelous breasts.

Allen’s jaw dropped. He was speechless. “I— I—”

“Darling, if I’d only known,” Andrea went on. “I’m always working ever day, only thinking of myself. Oh, this is all my fault!” Allen couldn’t formulate a thought—if he could, he might have wondered why his wife wasn’t wearing a bra. She went to him, wrapped herself around him. “I thought I could keep you happy. What a little fool I’ve been.”

“Darling, no. I am happy,” he protested stupidly.

She ran her hands up and down his body. “A man like you needs so much more than one woman can give.” Andrea pressed her breasts against him and whispered in his ear. “It’s alright, darling. I understand.”

Janet started to get up, but Andrea touched her shoulder. “No, Janet. Stay.” She kneeled and pressed close to the girl, looking up at her husband. “Do you still love me, Allen?” she asked. “Do you still want me?”

“Yes!” he said. “Yes, of course, Andrea!”

“Do you think that two women can satisfy you?” she asked softly. Andrea put a gentle hand on his crotch. “Can you satisfy us?”

“Oh, oh,” he huffed. “Oh, Andrea.” She thought he might have a heart attack—or cream his pants. Instead, he embraced her and kissed her hotly, with a passion she hadn’t known in him in years. She let her blouse slip off her shoulders and embraced him as well, tugging at his shirt desperately.

“I’ll do anything, darling—anything—to save our marriage,” she panted, sliding onto the bed next to her Janet. The girl gave a little squeal and helped to undress him. In a few minutes, they’d stripped him naked and Andrea too. His big prick was as rigid and ramrod straight.

“Oh,” Janet marveled. “It’s wonderful!” She stroked it slowly, playfully, while Allen kissed his wife.

“Put it in her, darling,” Andrea urged. “I want to watch.”

Allen turned to Janet, who lay timid and coy, biting her lip. But she leaned over her mistress and kissed him eagerly, tongue wet and hungry, just inches from Andrea’s face. Allen crawled over his naked wife and on top of his petite, young housekeeper. She arrange herself under him and helped guide his prick inside her soft, moist pussy. He groaned in total pleasure to feel her tight little twat envelop him. “Is she tight, darling?” Andrea asked in his ear.

“Oh yes!” he groaned. Andrea threw a leg over his and rubbed her body along his length, kissing his bare shoulder, the girl’s bare shoulder as Allen slowly slid his cock in and out of her.

“He’s a good lover,” she whispered to Janet. “He makes me come. Does he make you come?”

“Oh, ooh,” Janet whimpered. “Oh yes. Oh, make me come, Mr. Hartall,” she begged. She turned to take Andrea’s kiss. Their soft lips locked sensuously, tongues licking playfully. Then she took Allen’s kiss, stronger and more passionate.

Andrea stroked her moist slit, found her clit swollen and hot. “Fuck her, darling,” she urged. “Fuck her for me.”

Allen thrust harder into the little girl, filling her with his dick, feeling her tight cunt contract around his shaft with each stroke. “Oh, oh, oh,” he panted. “Oh, God, you’re beautiful.”

“Let him fuck you, Jan. Let him fuck your sweet pussy hard. Do you like it?”

“Oh yes!” the girl cried. “Oh! Oh yes!” She gripped his back, digging his nails in.

Again and again Allen pushed into her, buttocks clenching, beautiful wife caressing his naked body, urging him on. His balls tightened and heated, ready to burst. Then he felt an incredibly sensation on them, a soft, wet tongue—Andrea was between their legs, licking his balls and Janet’s pussy!

Allen groaned heavily and thrust deeper into the young housekeeper still and unloaded his balls of huge wads of creamy jism inside her. She gasped and cried out, pulling him into her, her own intense sexual rapture flooding her body, wracking her with trembling spasms and flashes of heat and pleasure.

They fell away from each other with soft kisses. Andrea slithered up between them, stopping at Allen’s wet, red cock. She looked up at him for a moment before slowly engulfing it in her mouth. The warm pleasure flooded over him, an intense aftershock of orgasm. Andrea licked his penis clean and slid up into his arms. “Are you happy, darling?” she asked.

“I’ve never been unhappy, sweetheart,” he said. Andrea turned and kissed Janet softly.

They lay together all night, and in the morning began a strange new life, not completely different from the life they had known before, but, oh, so much sweeter.