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"Turn around, George. I'm ready to fuck you now. Are you ready, George?"

"Oh yes, My dear Mistress."

"Is your asshole ready, George?"

"Oh yes, oh yesss," he would reply in a highly pitched feminine voice. "Oh yesssss, My Mistress."

With this, George would turn around. He'd stick his big ass high up in the air, holding his buttocks wide apart with both hands, his forehead balancing on the rug.

Madame Andre would gather a whole gob of her spit and drop it into his open asshole. When it was running down his hairy thighs, she would grip him by his flanks.

Bracing himself, she would aim the thick head of the dildo at his anus.

"Beg for it… beg for it," she would command.

Crying like a baby, wiggling his ass like a young virgin calf, his giant balls swaying, his prick immense and on the verge of exploding, Madame Andre would ease the head inside his ass channel, then plunge, using all her enormous strength.

When the huge dildo vanished up his hole, George would let out a scream that could have been heard in Nice, miles distant!

Chapter 9

The other person in the chateau to hear Mrs. Melissa Staunton's wild orgasmic scream as her entire naked body was convulsing under Steve's expert tonguing, was Nellie, the maid, or 'tweenie' as such maids are called in Europe.

She was alone in her own room, lying in bed reading an erotic novel. She was naked. When she'd cross an especially interesting passage she would pause and masturbate for a while before continuing.

Next to her on the bed was her box of dildoes and vibrators on which she spent a considerable amount of extra money she would earn for doing special things for her Mistress, Mrs. Staunton.

Nellie was devoted to Melissa, in fact, her very slave when you came down to it. And Nellie loved this position. She wouldn't have exchanged positions with any girl she knew. She had just about everything she needed and wanted; and if she didn't, all she had to do was ask.

When she'd travel to Nice to go shopping with Melissa Staunton,* the voyage with Maurice driving the big limousine, was always a thrill; and one not easily forgotten.

Nellie loved to ride iii the rear seat with the older woman who she often made believe was her own very rich mother.

Nellie had a lot of fantasies about Melissa in this regard. Her own mother had died years before. Nellie had grown up in the care of her grandmother who was an old drunk, to put it mildly. Not necessarily a shrew, but a woman who drank from morning to night, played the horses and gambled the numbers.

Nellie's step grandfather (her father was long dead) was also a drunk and not as kindly a one as her grandmother.

Nellie hated him because the old man would constantly be grabbing at her. This was one of the reasons she left home. This was six months before her seventeenth birthday.

The old man had caught her coming out of the shower. Grandmother wasn't home. As surly as he usually was, this particular morning he was much hung over and really in a rotten mood.

"Come here, you little bitch," he yelled out to her, not realizing she was wearing just a towel around her waist, her delicious breasts dripping with water, her nipples tight.

"I'm not dressed, Grandpop."

"Who gives a damn, you wench, c'mere!"

Nellie knew better than to argue with the old man. He could be vicious. Often he'd whipped her naked bottom until it was a glowing pink.

Arranging the towel so that it covered her full, ripe breasts and reached just below her hairy triangle but from the rear did not cover the delightful swelling of her plump buttocks, Nellie walked slowly into the dimly lit front room of the shappy, sleazy house in which she lived with her grandparents.

Grandpop was sitting in his shorts in a armchair near the TV. He was smoking a cigar. Near him on an end table was an empty pitcher of premium beer.

"What do you want me for, Grandpop?"

"I'm outta me beer, lass," he said, not looking up at her. "How's about your runnin' fer me beer?"

"Oh Grandpop," she complained.

He looked up sharply. He was about to open his mouth to swear at her when he caught sight of her glistening wet legs, her milky white thighs, her bare feet in the soft light shining through the filthy curtains framing the two windows that overlooked the narrow street.

He felt a sudden urging in his groin despite his advancing years. She also smelled like flowers, fresh from the shower.

"C'mere, closer," he commanded.

Nellie knew better than to disobey.

"You know you… "

"Grandpop, I ain't got me all day… "

As she said this, she started to turn. She could see the ugly sexual gleam in his eyes. She knew how to recognize this. It went with his cupping his old penis, his hand in his lap.

"C'mere, or I'll whip the ass off you, lass."

As she approached closer, Grandpop was leering at her. She seemed more radiantly beautiful to him than ever before. Her large breasts, the cleavage between them a deep mysterious valley full of inviting shadows reminded the old man of music hall dancing girls, their full breasts almost completely revealed as they danced and flaunted their half clad bodies on the music hall stage.

Because the towel was so old, so thin, he could also see Nellie's pert nipples. The sight of them so hard, made his prick begin to stiffen and he began to stroke it.

"What was you do in', Nell, play in' with yourself?"

"Oh Grandpop. You're terrible. No."

"Then why's your nips so tight like that, huh?"

"Oh Grandpop, 'cause I'm cold, that's wot."

"From what, Nell?"

"Grandpop, look, you gimme the money and I go get my duds on and go get your beer, okay? Grandpop, please. I got things to do today."

By now the old man was growing really hot, passionate. He knew that his woman would be gone. There was no one to interrupt.

"Turn around, Nell."

She turned and when she did, Grandpop's eyes rolled in his head. Fully one third of Nellie's deliciously naked buttocks were visible to the old man's greedy eyes.

"Bend over," he told her.

She did and, as she did, she knew what he could see. How many times had she done this for him before when she was younger and she didn't know what he got out of it until one day she saw a girlie magazine with lewd pictures in it. All the girls had their skirts up, no panties, and those who were bent over, bare behinds quite visible, you could see the mouth, the lips of their hairy cunts.

When some of these girls in the pictures were bent way over, you could see their winking assholes along with thick pussy hair and the meaty lips hanging down between their parted thighs.

Nellie had to admit that the sight first appealed to her very much and this was what attracted her to a local girlfriend.

"You got a really pretty box there, Nell."

She said nothing. She just stayed bent over, holding her breath, hoping his mood would pass, but shivering when she thoughts and deeply knew that it would not. He'd want more now.

"Take off that damned thing, Nell."

"Oh, Grandpop, look, dear, I told you I got me things to do, please. Please, Grandpop."

"Take it off, take it off, else I'll rip it off, lass!"

With her back still turned to her grandfather, Nellie removed the damp towel. Now she was still bent over, her glorious buttocks shockingly nude.

"Open it up for me," he commanded.

Sobbing quietly, yet somewhat enjoying her total embarrassment, Nellie, still bent way over, bent over even further. She reached behind her with both hands. Lowering her head, she used her fingers to pry open her naked buttocks. When she felt a cooling draft on her exposed anus, she shivered.

She could hear the old man massaging his cock. She knew by now that he'd taken the old thing out of his pants and was fisting it gluttonously.

"Stick one finger up inside, lass."