Jeff brought his knees together and caught the pack of cigarettes, horrified because he knew that in order to light her cigarette in no way could he hold the purse over his raging boner at the same time. He fumbled in his purse for some matches. When he found one and looked up, he was delighted to find that she was standing directly in front of him, her face almost obscured by her enormous, jutting breasts. He wouldn’t have to rise, so he was safe. He handed her a cigarette, and he couldn’t keep his hand from shaking as he struck a match and offered her a light.
Female-like, she cupped the back of his quivering hand, excitement, racing through him at the delightful contact, her talon-like, brilliantly-painted nails, the type that only a woman of leisure could nurture and grow, resting like a cat’s claws on the back of his hand.
In the privacy of the room that had been set aside for him, Jeff did a lot of thinking that night. If a simple little thing like the touch of her hand on his would cause him to almost blow his mind, he would certainly pass out when he attempted to bathe and dress this awesome-busted woman. His penis would prove a constant problem. He couldn’t carry his purse with him as he performed his duties. The apron would help. It was small but it was frilly and fluffy. It just might do the job.
Other thoughts were bothering him. He liked the feeling of the feminine garments on his body. Walking along the street he had loved the tautness of his hose and garter straps, the way the straps tightened, stretching his stockings to the bursting point, then loosened with his steps. He was thrilled by the sensation of the cold garter clasps as they dug into his thigh. He even liked the constricting feeling of his corset and gloves. Jeff had heard much about transvestites and had always been disgusted at the thought of them … was he becoming one? The following morning, Jeff was startled to find that he just couldn’t wait to get into the array of garments that hung neatly over a chair. He managed the corset easier this time. He lingered over his stockings, literally caressing them upwards over his legs, excitedly attaching the garter clasps. Then he ran his hands over his silky limbs, marveling at the sensation of the ivory-smooth nylon, as thrilled as though he were handling a girl’s legs rather than his own. In short, Jeff was a very confused young man when he approached his employer’s bedroom.
Mrs. Vantassel was awake, stretching, as Jeff carefully opened the door.
“Pour my bath, Bobette. Make it a bubble bath. You’ll find the bottle in the medicine cabinet.”
“Oui, Madame,” Jeff replied in his girlish voice as he went into the master bath and turned on the water, getting the bubble bath liquid from the medicine closet and pouring some into the rapidly filling tub. He turned and almost collapsed on the spot as he saw his ravishing employer appraoching, completely naked, her bare feet padding on the thick shag rug, her gigantic breasts swaying heavily back and forth like two goatskin bags filled with milk, her enormous aureoles and nipples like twin beacons in a storm.
Jeff had an instant erection, but the soft folds of his apron disguised the fact nicely. He breathed a sigh of relief as his mistress settled her awesome assortment of ripe curves into the water. To his utter amazement her great teats floated on the water in front of her, bobbing about in the bubbles like twin beach bails in a frothy surf.
“I-is eet too hot, Madame?” queried Jeff as he had all he could do to resist the temptation to take one of those great, milky globes in his hands and smother it with frantic kisses.
“No, it’s just the way I like it, Bobette. Wash my back for me, please,” she replied sweetly, her gigantic globes bobbing about madly now as she scooped some soapy water on them.
She leaned forward as Jeff began to wash her back with the cloth, her breasts seemingly detached and apart from her as they bobbed further in front of her, the aureoles and nipples a brilliant red and glistening from their sudsy coating.
Jeff’s manhood began to thump against the side of the tub as he hesitated for a moment. Dare he pick one of those enticing morsels up in order to wash it properly? It would seem the thing to do.
Boldly, Jeff slid his right hand beneath a massive globe and hoisted it out of the water, his hand almost disappearing from sight in its pillowing softness. It was tremendously heavy, like a basketball filled with water, as he meticulously washed the upper portion, then repeated the process with its mate.
Later, Jeff was in the bedroom, going through the delicious process of dressing his Mistress. First he had pulled on her stockings, spending much more time than was necessary to accomplish the delightful task. She had chosen a black leather corset with a demi-bra that served to merely cup the undersides of her enormous gourds and shape them upwards and out. The corset he had managed, the laces tied in a bow at the back. Now he was standing behind her attempting to stuff her swollen breasts into their cups. No apron could disguise the boner he now possessed, but fortunately her back was to him.
Suddenly to his horror she thrust her rump backwards and wriggled it against his hard on, forcing it into her ass-cleavage, giggling, “My goodness, but you have a big erection for me this morning … young man.” “Y-Young man?”
“Yes, I’ve known all along,” she smiled wickedly, spinning around and lowering herself to her knees and fumbling for his organ.
“S-Since when?”
“Since you sat down in the chair yesterday.” She inserted her hand into his panties, searching for the erection she knew was there.
“Y-You saw my erection?”
“Not at all. A woman sits with her legs together, or crossed, never with them wide apart.” She had his manhood out now, stroking the taut flesh back and forth easily, licking her full, lips till they shown wickedly.
The End
