Squirting Maid Roleplay
Title: “The Maid, The Duke and The Squirt: A Naughty Tale”
In the grand sprawling estate of the noble Duke Chastain, a particular young maid named Eliza had been skirting along the edges of scandal ever since accepting employment to manage the lord’s house. While she was scrupulous in her duties, her sensual curves and alluring smile hinted at a secret life epitomizing the forbidden.
One fateful afternoon, while she was dusting the duke’s private library, their eyes met. She had bent over to reach a high ledge, her laced uniform straining against her pert bottom. The duke approached from behind, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. His royal authority escaped him as carnal desire overtook his senses.
“Such a formidable woman,” His Grace stated huskily.
Eliza set the dust rag aside and rose languidly, like a reptile summoned by an irresistible heat. “Your Grace,” she purred, “I’ve always lived for your satisfaction.”
“You tease a reputable man,” the lord chided, yet entwined his fingers within her hair possessively. This brazen wench knew exactly what she did to wealthy men of status. Perhaps she required punishment.
“Indeed, but ever only to amuse.” Eliza winked before trailing her manicured nails down the silk of his cravat. The male bulge formulated beneath his trousers and she massaged it gingerly.
“Dare I believe your seduction is genuine?” His Grace hazarded, yearning to abandon himself to her silken touch.
“I would never dollop such false icing upon your esteemed cake…” The maid’s voice husked out as the lord released his hardened cock from its confines, and she kneeled before her master.
The duke leaned back against a bookshelf as her skillful tongue swirled around the purple dome; pre-cum leaked at her delicate lapping. She showed surprisingly for a maid suggestion of experience in the art of oral sex. Planting her lips on the head, she took him deep. His Grace shuddered, watching his hard inches disappear into her warm mouth. A throaty moan escaped her.
He felt the exquisite pleasure of her tongue undulating all the way down his stiff length, only to pop her from tip and lick around the crown like a confectioner frosting a dessert. Her thumb rubbed on the underside at the base, and his heavy sack slackened, slick with her saliva.
“Such talent for a mere house-keeper,” the duke groaned. “Pray tell, where did you learn to give fellatio like a high-priced courtesan?”
Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “Personal education, Your Grace. An academy-minded lodge.” Her hot breath tickled the opening of his pisshole.
Then she sucked harder, head bobbing faster, spiraling him into a frenzy. The tip flared angrily and his hands clutched her scalp as if a sudden madman, the power of climax building. When he neared completion, he shoved her away.
Eliza recovered quickly, offering an океан glares as she stood while the lord fumbled to free his loaded pistol from the night table. He aimed it directly at the heart of all her wickedness, the cleft silently drooling through dampened Gosport.
“Whatever are you doing?” she cried out. Her costume frocked up right there over the centerpoint of her needy sex, baring glistening pink folds and a swollen clit desperate to be suckled. From her chest rose heaving breasts, topped with raspberry nipples.
“I think I’ll fuck a few rounds into you until you’re ruined for other men.” He pressed the smooth barrel to her slit, tracing her wetness intentionally before finding her fat little button. “Juice this weathered rocket, foul wench. Tell me how badly you wish to be raped differently.”
Obediently, Eliza began frigging herself, gyrating those plump lips against his threat. He shoved hard into her soaked canal, and she moaned like a whore, glazing the metal nicely before he withdrew. He fingered her clit and mashed brutally until she was mewling and splaying her thighs wide. She wanted to be stung again and again.
The duke rammed it in two tight thrusts, his fingers hooking deep into the reddened folds. She jerked and gritted through crocodile tears. Thing is, Eliza liked rough encounters like this. She thrilled to a man who would plunge into her regardless with little care for satisfaction. It spoke of lust, of complete domination, and fulfilled her exhibitionistic streak.
Swallowing his meaty rod, she climaxed hard three times while he mumbled jagged curses at her impudence. Juices flooded his hand as he held her in place, refusing to let her move until she was spent. And when she was dripping and raw, he shoved her aside callously to unlood his gun.
“Did you enjoy that, Miss Eliza?” the lord smirked.
Her breathing slowed. Recovering, she allured him with a flex of her shoulders. “His Grace now asks questions when I’ve just explained my academy most clearly!”
Consumed by her greed for pleasure, the wench paraded her pert derriere for the lord again before-hopping onto the study table to finger her dripping petal. He shucked off his union suit and shoved her down into neat piles of manuscripts, the spongy head of his cock punctuating her need.
“You’ve taught me much…for now I will teach you with my cock.”
With that he plunged balls deep, hammering her sopping wet cavity. She moaned, each plunge forcing air from her lungs. He wasn’t pulling out like usual, spreading her into warm tingling goo. She felt every fat inch grinding fast and deep as if he’d crush her womb. She was going to get creampied for once.
His balls smacked her wet clit like a bell as sweat dripped onto her bouncing tit-tops. He twisted them roughly without slowing the weighty onslaught to her honey-pot. His moans grew louder, deeper in tone; savoring how she tightened around him. Reaching a critical mass, he fired thick ropes of seed into her contractions.
As the duke withdrew, cum oozed from the stretched opening of her pussy. Eliza sighed blissfully, glad to be well-used. She’d need a few hours rest before her day was through. Maybe she’d find her way to the torture closet next, where that shackling device in the pentagram was…
Eliza was the world’s best employee, blurring intimacy with the Duke into just another part of an exceptional 24-hour shift.
The End
