Hello!

My name is Ana, Ana de Lorca, of average height, twenty-two years old, with short brown hair. I feel fatter than I’d like to be, a few extra kilos: fair-skinned, the daughter of immigrants from Belize.

I started working about two months ago in the home of a widow named Jamie Spencer, but I just call her Lady Spencer. She’s about my height, forty-eight years old, with red hair and green eyes, slender, elegant, and refined. She’s a woman of few words, very few, in fact. Unfriendly and snobbish, she’s the kind of person you wouldn’t want as a friend, but you put up with her because the pay is great.

Spencer lives in a Victorian mansion with traditional English gardens. As traditional as the mansion’s furnishings, where the rooms are spacious, with numerous paintings on every wall. Especially in the first-floor living rooms, as well as tapestries depicting typical scenes from medieval castles in the English countryside. The bedrooms, meanwhile, are all on the upper floor.

The residence is in Kington County, near Wales. Needless to say, Lady Spencer is extremely wealthy, but she’s also what you might call stingy. There’s only one driver who works there and me. I hardly ever see him. He’s usually out shopping for the lady or paying the bills for the mansion where we live.

I have a room all to myself, which was another reason I took the job, especially given today’s rent prices, particularly after the pandemic and Brexit.

As you can imagine, Spencer has few friends, almost no one visits her, and she hardly ever leaves the house. Methodical, quiet, a perfectionist. A real bore!

But a few days ago, one of those friends, Sandra Grant, Lady Grant, came to visit her. It was the first time I’d seen her. She struck me as the opposite of Spencer: friendly, more talkative, and not all that pretty.

From what I overheard them saying, their husbands fought in the Falklands War. Spencer’s husband died of cancer about five years ago, and she inherited his fortune. Grant’s husband is still alive, though he’s much older than she is. From what I gathered, the two women are about the same age.

They had tea in the reading room and then went up to the second floor and locked themselves in one of the rooms. I thought it was strange that it wasn’t Madame’s suite, but I had a lot to do and ended up completely forgetting about the two of them.

However, I needed to change the towels in the suite, so I went upstairs. First, I checked to make sure the suite was empty, went in, changed the towels, and when I returned to the hallway heading toward the stairs, I heard laughter and even screams coming from the room where they were locked in.

I noticed that Lady Spencer was more effusive than usual. I was surprised to hear her voice, her laughter mingling with her friend’s. I approached the door cautiously, towels in my arms. I could tell they were having fun; I couldn’t hear much, but I managed to make out a few words: man, cock, pussy, scream, shove it in.

I was surprised, but it piqued my curiosity. I didn’t expect to hear such things from a woman as refined as my employer. They seemed agitated: perhaps they were under the influence of alcohol, I don’t know.

However, just as I was about to press my ear against the door, the floorboards creaked. A chill ran down my spine, I got scared and ran toward the stairs. I went back to my chores, of which there were many, and couldn’t waste time on the raunchy jokes they were telling. 

I ended up forgetting all about it. The overwhelming workload and the mansion’s strict routine kept my mind so busy. But two days later, something unusual happened. 

I was dusting the furniture in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. That’s when I heard a prolonged moan coming from one of them. It piqued my curiosity, so I cautiously approached the door of the bedroom where the moans were coming from. The door was ajar, just enough to peek inside. I pressed myself against the wall and, through the crack, saw a mesmerizing scene that left me in shock.

Lady Spencer was standing with her back to the door. She was wearing one of her black high heels and lace stockings of the same color, which reached halfway up her thighs. She wore a plaid skirt that had been pulled up at the back over her hips. Her tiny panties were caught between her spread knees. I could make out her white, pert buttocks and her private parts, completely exposed. 

That elegant woman looked more like a curious high school girl exploring her own body. 

I could admire Madame’s vagina. Her labia and anus were completely shaved. Her white, silky skin was visibly quivering. Despite her age, Madame was quite a sight for anyone lucky enough to observe her in such an intimate moment. A captivating sight. I felt a heat ignite in my vagina and held my breath so as not to reveal my presence.

I like women. I’m bisexual, but I’ve never been attracted to mature women like Madame, especially someone as mysterious and affected as Lady Spencer. 

A woman masturbating is a unique, admirable, and incredibly arousing sight. My body reacted to what my eyes were seeing; my breasts swelled with blood flow, and my nipples hardened. My vulva began to sweat with the arousal caused by the scene.  

As Madame’s fingers caressed her vulva, her well-manicured nails, painted carmine red, parted the lips of her pussy and revealed its secrets to me. Her delicate fingers slid in and out of her slit. A glisten appeared, revealing the lubrication of a mature vagina. 

Madame still had no idea I was there. She moaned, and her body reacted with occasional spasms.

Spencer was incredibly aroused. Her deep moans seemed to spring from her very soul. It’s lovely and exciting to hear a woman during such an intimate act.

It got even better when she, like a slut, spread her legs wider after letting her panties fall to her feet. I could appreciate her body’s curves even more—the opening of her anus, the shape of her vaginal lips.

You could tell that Spencer had a strong interest in sex. The opening of her anus showed that she practiced anal sex. A translucent thread hung from her vagina. That made me want to lick Spencer’s labia.

I almost screamed from the other side of the door. I’m not as refined as Jamie Spencer when I touch myself. And even fully clothed, standing there in the middle of the hallway, my fingers instinctively explored my pussy, right over the dark blue uniform skirt I was wearing.

Hot, hot, crazy. It had been many months since I’d had sex with anyone. And Spencer was just a few steps away from me, touching herself like a pervert, a slut.

Her frantic fingers sliding in and out of her dark cave. She moaned in ecstasy as her fingers got wetter and wetter.

I couldn’t take it anymore; my heart was pounding. Even at the risk of getting caught, I lifted my cotton skirt and reached out my arm. 

“Mmmm!”

I slid my fingers into my panties, feeling my pubic hair, the heat of my vagina. I pulled my panties down to mid-thigh. And my fingers began to touch me. Opening me up, exploring me, and teasing me. Hot, hot, hot! Aaah!

I played with my clitoris. I wanted to moan, but I couldn’t, which turned me on even more. She and I were masturbating together, almost in sync and just a few meters apart.

Things got even more intense when Spencer pulled a pink dildo out of her purse; I’d never seen one like that before. It was simply enormous. Very realistic, actually. you could even see the veins running along the thick shaft. At the top was a wide, blunt head. I didn’t know if I could handle something that big inside me.

But Spencer stuck her butt out even further, her legs spread wide and firm. She slid the rounded head along her hips, lowered it between them, and massaged her clitoris, parting her labia with the object. You could see the reddish interior peeking out from her vulva.  

Who could have imagined that such a demure woman, so concerned with the details of the household, was increasingly revealing herself to be a prostitute of the worst kind?

Lady Spencer lubricated the pink shaft by spreading a thick substance from a tube. Then she inserted the penis halfway into her vagina.

A deep moan escaped her lips, accompanied by the sound of something vibrating inside her body. The whole scene seemed to be in slow motion. Half-reclining on her side, she watched herself as she pushed the shaft deeper and deeper into her pussy. Almost its entire length was inside her, but the buzzing grew louder and louder. 

I stood there wide-eyed and with a dry mouth, watching Spencer get fucked right in front of me. Her body began to tremble, and her screams grew higher-pitched. 

Milady begged in an anguished voice, “Fuck me, fuck me!”

I loved seeing Spencer give in to her own desires, losing her composure and showing what she really is, a wanton slut. 

I started daydreaming, imagining myself on my knees licking Milady’s pussy, biting those plump thighs, drinking the warm fluids flowing from her vagina.

I always make up stories when I masturbate. My fingers picked up the pace; I touched myself eagerly, losing all sense of reason, with the purest desire flowing through every pore of my body. I was acting in an increasingly dangerous way, bordering on the irresponsible. 

“Spence, Spence, Spencer! Aaah!”

I whispered, feeling the warm wetness soak my fingers. I was throbbing with desire, driven wild, my arousal at its peak. We were masturbating together, getting more and more frantic.  

Madame’s fingers penetrated deeper and deeper into that sweaty cavern that was her vagina. I saw the unthinkable: Spencer slapping her ass. Spencer left red marks on her bare hips. 

But the best was yet to come; with some effort, she stretched out her arm, spreading her hips and showing me her ass.  

The opening of her anus became even more visible. How many cocks had that snobby woman already taken up her ass? Slowly, she inserted a long finger into that opening. Lady Spencer strained to push her finger deeper and deeper into her ass. It was incredibly arousing, but I couldn’t moan. I couldn’t let all my desire escape while watching that immoral scene she was staging just for me. I grew even more anxious as I watched her abuse herself.

I wanted to bite that asshole. To kiss her ass. A slobbery kiss with the tip of my tongue, just to drive Spencer even crazier. 

“Oooh!”

I moaned through clenched teeth as three fingers invaded my pussy. My whole body was throbbing and sweating, and I started fantasizing about Spencer naked in her bed. I closed my eyes and saw myself snuggled up against her. Our legs intertwined, our pussies rubbing against each other. I kissed her mouth, thrusting my tongue deep down her throat. The two of us fucking and moaning, coming and screaming. Doing crazy things in Madame’s bedroom. 

I heard a scream, but it blended into my dream. Spencer was smiling at me, and I whispered, “Jamie, you’re such a naughty little slut.” 

I laughed and bit my lip, completely captivated by that special smile I saw on her face. 

I was almost there, almost at the peak; I was going to… yes… come! But then… it happened. 

The darkness suddenly gave way to light. I opened my eyes and froze at the sight before me. Spencer was standing in front of me, the door open, staring at me as if I were something disgusting.

I don’t know how I managed not to scream; I remember being breathless. A subtle smile slowly began to form on her face. I saw a sparkle in her eyes, a mix of joy and disapproval. 

Spencer was fully dressed, and I had my panties wedged between my thighs, still pressed against the hallway wall. My fingers were still inside my vagina. And then I heard her voice, laced with a hint of sarcasm.

“Did you see a ghost, Ana?”