"She'll look adorable in the little French maid costume," Jonathon said.

He reached across his broad chest and began to finger his wife's taut nipples. They shot out, stiffening further. He leaned down and took them in his mouth, alternating between the tingling nuggets as he sucked them.

She cupped his balls, as if weighing them in her hand to see if they were full enough to need emptying again.

"I can't wait to see her," she sighed.

"She'll be here tomorrow morning."

"Have you explained her duties?"

"Not all of them. I thought you might like to do that, yourself-the interesting ones."

He laughed suddenly, and said, "She's really not experienced as a proper maid, you see; she's more of a cleaning woman trying to rise up in the world of service. Lower glass, of course. She said-she actually said- "I don't do windows."

They both laughed at the charlady like phrase.

Claire said, "So, she doesn't do windows? I certainly hope she does cunts!"

Jonathon chuckled.

Claire didn't care if the windows were grimy, but she liked her pussy to be well polished.

Jonathon's cock was about ready to slip up her cunt again, and he rolled onto his side, facing her. His cock pressed into her lean belly; indenting the firm flesh; the head snuggled into her deep belly button. She wriggled against it luxuriously.

He said, "Amanda was drinking Scotch in the kitchen."

"Yes, she has good taste in whisky, thank God." "Well, yes. She… er… she told me that you were vibrating your cunt, dear."

"Yes. I told her I intended to."

"So I gathered… don't you think…"

"Why, you old prude!" Claire said, laughing.

He grinned sheepishly.

Claire said, "I had my first fuck when I was fourteen, I think, and sucked my first dick the same memorable night-although the dick I sucked was not the same dick that fucked me, as I think about it.