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I pull off the maid's gag and she's about to thank me as I jam the socks in and knot the scarf back in place. She's pissed and starts to struggle as I pull some spare rope around her elbows and across her chest. She'd obviously realised she would work things loose and gets more upset as I re-tie her wrists and ankles. That's better.With the maid sorted I turn my attention to our star's press agent. Very snappy dresser, this lady I think. Well cut, dark blue, suit with a nice short skirt and a tailored jacket over a pale yellow blouse. Anyway she's tied to a chair over near the foot of the bed. As I start checking the ropes she starts coming on like she's finding it a big turn-on. Lots of gagged "mmm's" and pushing her tits forward. Now maybe I ain't that bright but I ain't that stupid either, so I give her some encouragement and let her go through with the whole Meg Ryan bit while keeping an eye on the mirror on the dressing table. I see the closet door start to move and I see some. We met a few common friends the next day morning and I left around 11. I reached her place around 12 and she opened the door in yoga pants and a sleeveless top. Those yoga pants were hugging her body, showing every curve. I got a huge hard on, looking at her cleavage and waist curve. She asked if I was hungry. “You have no idea how hungry I am.” saying that I pulled her onto me, hugging her tight. My both hands squeezing her ass cheeks hard. Spreading them and squeezing them. My hard dick was throbbing. She unbuttoned my jeans, pushed her hands into my jeans, pulled it out and started rubbing it. I squeezed her breasts with my right hand, while my left hand enjoyed her ass cheeks. I lifted her and took her to the couch. I pulled down her yoga pants and panty till her knees, spread her legs and put them on my shoulders. I started licking her pussy, while my left hand rubbed her inner thighs, my right hand squeezed her breasts on top of her small top. I pulled out her boobs from her.
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I gurgled the water and release a dramatic exhale. "Aah, well, what did you expect?" I took another long pull as she returned to her countertops, wiping them with a towel. Like I said, it was a little thing. But as I pulled the bottle from my lips and turned to look at her, the memory of her hand on my waist created a vestigial impression, almost as if it were still there. I watched her move, confident and practiced as she completed her routine. Come on , I thought, there's nothing sexy about putting the kitchen in order . Especially in the mechanical way she went through her routine. Still, I couldn't help watching. I'd seen it a thousand times before. She didn't prance or give sly seductive looks over her shoulder. She just wiped stuff down and put things away with an economy of motion until she saw me looking at her and suddenly stopped. "What?" she asked. I was smiling, and she returned it, then glanced nervously around the kitchen. "What? Did I miss a spot?" she asked with a.

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