Written by Lizzy Isis
Later, Fifi fixed Mr. Kooke a Ceaser salad – naked – prancing around the house as if the lease was in her name, then served him his food. Mr. Kooke, he appreciates Fifi’s good cooking.
They’ve made it clear with his wife that sometimes the only reason they keep her around despite her rotten mouth and clinical unpunctuality is because she really is a gifted cook.
They fuck in every corner of the house, leaving no shadow unpenetrated with sex smells and loud moans. They agree that this will be their little secret and he makes her solemnly swear, pinky promise and all, that their hookup won’t interfere with his family.
She swore on her mother’s grave (Fifi’s mom is alive and kicking so that agreement, in Fifi’s sick mind, was nullified). Except for one other assignment she needed to accomplish in this residence…she needed to taste Mrs Kooke.
She couldn’t help it, she tried. She’d spent countless times rubbing a wet clit into oblivion to thoughts of fucking them both, fucking them one by one, fucking the other while the other watched.
It NEEDED to happen. And since she had accomplished one, she had no doubt that the others could be done too. They fucked at every chance they could, Mr Kooke and Fifi. He couldn’t get enough of her. Her pussy dripped instantly at his touch.
He sought after her at night when his wife and the kids was sleeping. Fifi laughed at the irony; he made her pinky swear this wouldn’t interfere with his family and here he was showing up in her room at night with an already hard cock commanding her to eat it. Who was she to resist?
Mrs Cooke and Fifi have a great working relationship except for Fifi’s occasional ill mouth and teeth grating unpuctuality. Still, Fifi was a great cook, took care of the family and was her confidant. They were so close she confided in the black maid how lackluster her sex life with her husband has been since they had their 2 sons.
Fifi would listen attentively and when a heavy sensation of guilt would overcome her she’d remind herself that her involvement with the husband was her doing their marriage a service. Once she was done with both of them, she was sure they would be so in love they would renew their Vows and maybe if she was lucky, they’d buy her a new car. She laughed… “a girl can dream right?”
One night after braiding Mrs. Kooke’s hair, they stayed up in the guest bedroom where Lizz stayed and chatted for hours. Case in point tonight: her husband wasn’t even coming to bed anymore because he stayed up all night in his office.
Fifi knew better and the guilt stung listening to an obvious shatter in her employer’s voice. Fifi knew, she knew that tonight was the night. She had to do something about this, once and for all. What’s the worst that could happen? On the other hand, though, the rewards were magnificent – her fantasies would come true. She HAD to give this a shot. The kids were away and Mr Kooke was diminished into a mountain of paperwork.
“You ever hooked up with a woman, Mrs Kooke? ” She was surprised at the blatantness of her own voice. Her mouth betrayed her before she could play her cards carefully.
It was too late to back out now. Mrs. Kooke was seated up straight on the brown leather couch in the corner of the room. Fifi, on the edge of the bed, set aside her bowl of finished vanilla ice cream. She walked to the couch in the room and stood firmly over a shocked Mrs. Kooke.
“Let me fuck you, Mrs Kooke, if your husband won’t help you then maybe I can do something about it.”
Before a baffled Mrs Kooke could respond Fifi slipped off her navy blue silk nightdress then got on her knees before her employer. Since her mouth had betrayed her, she made sure her actions would be a little more poise.
Like she had with her employer’s husband, Fifi looked up at the white lady for any semblance of a protest, a no, a “Fifi, what the hell are you doing?” a “you are fired!!”… Nothing. A face that looked back at her was expressionless – Fifi guessed – probably a small curiosity lerked behind those green eyes. It was all the approval she needed.
She planted soft open-mouthed kisses on her employer’s thighs, from the knees working her way up. She pushed up her employer’s beige silk nightdress.
Fifi inhaled deeply at the pale thigh skin, it smelt of body lotion. Mrs Kooke shuffled to the edge of the couch to make room for Fifi to reach the gold. She wasn’t sure why she was allowing this but a slight tingle in her panties was captivating her, refusing to let her go until she’d seen this through. She was trapped.
Fifi lifted the hem of the nightdress until the crotch of Mrs Kooke’s panties were exposed. She smiled up at her boss. With her right hand, she caressed Mrs Kooke’s shaved mound over the lace black boyleg, caressed working a thumb downwards to the split where her clit was hidden. A warmth came from there, as if the clit was whispering “touch me…. Touch me”
Fifi obliged, she touched softly over the lace where a wet clit throbbed underneath, and Mrs Kooke near ’bout jumped out the damn seat. Fifi guessed its because it’d been a while since she was touched there she might have even forgotten what it feels like.
She felt bad for the mistress, she was convinced now more than ever that their marriage needed this. With the backing of a new found determination, Fifi rubbed her thumb on the button between Mrs. Kooke’s pussy lips. Her clit responded by growing under her touch and getting wetter by the moment. This was exciting.
These were some proud moments in history for Fifi. She made a mental note to buy herself a well-deserved bottle of champagne after this.
Mrs. Kooke spread herself a little wider – against a warning voice in her head commanding her not to. Fifi was pleased that she had full access to the cookie and her mouth watered to have it in her mouth.
But she wasn’t to rush, this was a delicate moment. If this was done wrong Mrs Kooke could still fire her on the spot. Instead she planted kissed on Mrs Kooke’s pale inner thighs. A soft moan escaped both their lips. Fifi kissed, sometimes bit softly.
To her surprise Mrs Kooke pulled her beige nightgown over her head exposing aged but fairly perky still size D cup pale white people breasts with pink areolas like Fifi imagined. Fifi cupped those beautiful things before taking the left boob into her mouth while pinching the right nipple between her right index and thumb.
Mrs Kooke was rocking her body at this point, her movement clearly begging to be had. Fifi shifted from one breast to the other, biting the nipple then coming back.
Then she lowered her right hand to Mrs Kooke’s crotch and pressed her fingers over her clit. Mrs Kooke was steady rocking against her hand and eventually led her employee’s hand INTO her underwear. She was soaked at this point, near ’bout dripping through Fifi’s fingers. Finger caressed that warm inviting clitoris, never swaying her attention from the pale breasts.
When she felt she’d done enough teasing Fifi lowered herself to meet Mrs Kooke’s waiting pussy which she wasted not a moment taking into her mouth. She smelled of pussy, warm and musky… It was delicious.
Fifi inhaled deeply as she got to sucking Mrs Kooke the way her husband had some time earlier. Fifi licked all the way and down before diving a pointed tongue into the pink pussy opening.
“GOD Fifi, yes.” the black girl flicked her tongue as deep as her neck muscles would allow in the pink pussy opening. “Oooh my God fifi please.” Fifi raised her left hand to her lips in a “keep it down” motion.
Mrs Kooke tried to muffle her moans but the flicking in her pussy only made her louder. “Fifi, I WILL come on your face you’re sucking me so good. Yessss”
Despite her reservations with Mrs Kooke’s husband only downstairs, Fifi licked her way up to the clit then boldly inserted her right index finger into Mrs Kooke’s opening.
“OOH YES FIFI OOOH. Please, Fifi, fuck me.”
Fifi flicked her finger in her employer’s pussy in a “come here” motion that had made her come many a time. Mrs Kooke wiggled uncontrollably under Fifi’s finger-mouth attack.
A combo that drives many women up the walls in a nail-on-board, teeth gripping, hair pulling orgasm. And Mrs. Kooke was reaching hers momentarily. She pressed the back of Fifi’s head deeper into her thighs begging and gyrating against her face, cuming and cuming real hard.
These were some crucial moments, Fifi worked vigorously with a tense cramp forming in her jaw but never relenting until Mrs. Kooke was a screaming begging fucked and sucked.
“YES YES YES YES!! YES MAMI” Fifi flicked and sucked and kissed, riding Mrs Kooke through her wave until she was panting, sweating collapsed heap in the brown leather chair.
When Fifi felt the slight quiver in Mrs Kooke’s thighs, she knew she did a great job and was pleased. When she retreated from between the pale thighs, Fifi’s face wet and spotty with cum juice. Mrs Kooke cupped her face in her hands and licked her clean.
They kissed deeply. They acknowledged through their passionate kiss that this was a bond solidified. Their kiss was interrupted by a clearing of a throat.
“Ah ehm.” They both looked up at the door that was now swung open. Mr. Kooke stood in the doorway a full hard on vividly imprinted under his track pant.
“So you ladies were going to have all the fun without me?”
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