Written by Lizzy Isis
Fifi scoffed and grumbled in extreme annoyance at the dishes that mounted high on the sink in the Kooke double story uptown residence. She hated the job, it barely paid enough to justify even working there. Menlyn is 24 some kilometers outside of town and the every morning 45 minutes drive in traffic drove her almost nuts.
Why did she keep the job? The couple she works for are a rich sexy pair. Both the husband AND wife have their own sex appeal that compelled Fifi to want to be around them. And what better way to invade their space than to work as a house keeper in their residence?
Besides the long drive to work and the mess their 2 young children made every day relentlessly without fail, the job was convenient and the Kookes mostly left her alone unless one of them needed a shirt ironed, or the kids needed a ride to the mall, and it fits right into her university timetable; school is only 10 minutes drive away in the same town.
Mrs. Kooke, a busty Middle aged brunette was to be out of the country for the weekend. Mr. Kooke would summon Fifi to babysit the children because he would, as always, be submerged into mountain high paperwork at his study table.
Fifi would drop the kids off at their friend’s for a sleepover, then she’d drive back to fix Mr. Kooke dinner and his coffee. This time though, she intended to serve it to him on her knees.
Her mouth watered at the thought of sucking Mr Kooke off while he tried with all his might to drink his coffee. She smiled her way back to the house; it’d be a cold day in hell before this weekend ended without getting fucked by him.
In the residence, Fifi was a clumsy nervous mess. She’d no reason at all to be. Fifi is a 21-year-old dread-head bombshell with caramel legs that went on to kingdom come and a bubble butt with sway and jiggle that compelled any grown man to fuck her to his heart’s content.
Still, Mr. Kooke is a white married man. She wasn’t so confident he’d be keen on fucking the Help, which is what she was technically. Even with the uncertainty of the success of her mission, Fifi rathered she be unemployed by the end of the weekend than to be left unfucked by this man.
A warmth was growing in her center as she remembered how she fantasized about being subdued by this white man. She’d touched herself to thoughts of being hatefucked raw by the slim built, Johnny Depp lookalike Mr. Kooke.
Anyone who didn’t find Mr. Kooke attractive had to be clinically blind. Point blank period.
When the lasagna was set in the oven to bake, it would only need her attention in about 30 minutes, Fifi nervously set about putting her plan in motion.
She carelessly kicked off her house keep uniform and put on a short latex black skirt, a white push up lace bra, thigh high stockings and not a stitch more.
Then she pulled out a light blue 6-inch vibrator and lay on the master bedroom to ingress it into herself, already wet and slimy with anticipation. Fifi was so slick and wet she could slide uphill on a bone dry water slide.
“Mr Kooke!!! Mr Koeke, I need help in the master bedroom!!” she waited nervously as his footsteps thump thumped from the study up the stairs to the main bedroom. This was a do or die moment. At the end of her unwitting misconduct, Fifi was either going to be unemployed or deliciously fucked.
At the top of the stairs, the master bedroom door swung open. Mr. Kooke’s mouth hung ajar at the sight of the young black girl, pussy spread in his direction. He was encapsulated by the creamy spread legs that ached for his attention.
He begged, debated and fought with his body to turn around, to tear his eyes from the sight. But he was helplessly subdued by – for the first time in his life – a black pussy.
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