Baby Steps With New Housekeeper

Our new housekeeper is meticulous, highly organised and, so far, exceeding expectations. Her cooking is excellent, if a little repetitive. I’ll encourage her to branch out more I think what she does, she does to perfection, but I’d like to see more variety. 

I was in what we call ‘the boot room’, a smallish rooms equipped with a low sink for washing mud off riding boots or wellingtons. It has a small window that looks out into the courtyard and it was through this window that I saw her carrying a laundry basket, one of the Ali-Baba type, from her bungalow into the house. A frown crossed my brow. Oh, I don’t mind her using our utility room, but there’s no need. The bungalow is fully equipped with a washer/dryer of its own. 

I stilled my impulse to go and help her. Mean? Maybe, but she is the housekeeper, not me. If she chooses to use the main house, then it’s her call. 

Well, of course I went to help her….I'm not that mean-spirited. One handle each and we lugged it downstairs, during which, the lid fell off presenting me with a pair of pale green panties, crotch uppermost, and delightfully stained. An accidental-on-purpose trip on a stake by me and they fell out. I grabbed them, making sure my fingers rubbed in the crotch, and threw them casually back on top of the overflowing basket. I also learned that the washer/dryer in the bungalow isn’t working. Hmmm…better call someone. 

Well, of course I wanted to linger down there, and preferably alone too, so I asked if she had collected my laundry yet. (Yes, done yesterday) Tea towels? (Also yesterday) bath towels then? Done last Friday. (Fuck!) no choice then. As she stuffed her laundry into the capacious washing machine I trudged back upstairs mourning the wank that never was. 

In the safety of my den though….I had two assets. My hyper sensitive nose and the middle finger of my left had that I had rubbed heavily into the still moist crotch of her panties.

It felt like a pheromone firework had detonated in my head. An explosion of pure girl! Even down to the barely detectable pee scent. A little slice of heaven on my finger. 

Miss Brain immediately started running round in circles looking for the precisely right image to give me, and settled on one of her waking up this morning, in those panties, feeling warm and wet and deciding on an early morning wank. I envisaged her slipping her hand sleepily into the waistband and playing with herself, edging closer and closer to orgasm until she tripped over into ecstasy. 

No, Miss Brain didn’t furnish me with an image of her thinking of me. That would be…tacky, somehow. Too contrived…too convenient. Instead, I imagined her thinking of a nice stiff cock, and her being fucked to orgasm. 

You know, there’s a commonality in every girl’s scent. There’s a sameness, but also an infinite difference too. Subtle changes, and changes in taste as well. I know from the guys I’ve sucked off over my life that every one of them tasted the same yet different. The harsh, somewhat metallic scent of semen and the saltiness being common factors, but even they change guy to guy. Some semen I’ve swallowed was sweet….really sweet. One pore guy…well…his was salty and intensely bitter. Almost too much for me. 

Girls are the same….similar but unique at the same time. 

I’ve been asked a lot about going down on a girl during her time of the month. The comments I’ve received range from pure curiosity to disgust, and even a couple of people who consider it evil. So, what’s it like? If you really want to know, read on. If not, leave it here and go in peace and love. 

Rag `week.

Girls are not purely physical beings. I’m not saying guys are, but there’s always an emotional element to sex with us. For a girl to let you explore her during her period is a gift of immense trust. She already feels vulnerable - ask any girl who has ‘leaked through’. So for a girl to let you touch her, much less go down on her is a pearl of rare price. 

The scent? Yes, the scent does change. It’s more…earthy….heavy…it lacks the lightness of when she isn’t on,

Messy? Not as much as you might think. It’s not like a garden hose down there, and anyway, when a girl is lying down, her flow is less, plus, during sexual arousal, that can lessen it further. Orgasms are brilliant for cramps too. 

So, let’s put it all together. 

Scenario:-

After the preliminaries of kissing and touching boobs - by which time, judging by their sensitivity, I already have an idea that she might be on, I slip a hand into the waistband of her panties. I feel some tenseness. I’m sure now, but she may gently hold my wrist and  say “It’s…” rarely is more than one word needed. I respond by giving my arm the slightest, barely perceptible push further. This is a wordless “I know…it’s ok.” If she wants to stop me again, I won’t go further. It’s surprising how rare it is that they do stop me. 

Everything now in slow motion. The girl concerned needs to have many opportunities to stop. Panties, then, slowly off, but before that, kissing the waistband and leg holes at the front does two things. It allows her to know that I want to kiss her sex, and allows me to become familiar with her scent. Now it’s panties off. Slowly, painfully slowly. 

Next, her lower tummy is…..is ‘worshipped’ the wrong word? I don’t think so. I kiss over her womb. Adoring it and the miracle it is working right now. Meanwhile, my hand is gently spreading her legs and toying softly with her clit. I can judge when the nervousness leaves her deep breathing and desire takes its place. 

And so I kiss further down….gently…through her pubes if she has any….to her clit. My long tongue circles and licks it. I suck it, nibble it….and I will feel her tampon string with my fingers and give it an inquisitive tug. She may respond by stopping me or she may not. A couple of tugs later and I know if she will allow me to remove it. If she won’t, that’s fine, I may manually masturbate her clit and use my tongue on the very outside of her hole. If she does, completion may come with my fingers in her, or perhaps my tongue. 

Sometimes, I sense her desire for me to tongue-fuck her, but her current condition prevents her asking me. On those times, tonguing her brings a rapid, deep orgasm.

To me, making love to a girl during her time of the month is a privilege, an honour, and her allowing it is an act of supreme trust. 

And men? …..

Well, I’ve met men who are horrified….or maybe even terrified of a woman when she’s on and won’t go near her. The Bible speaks of ‘days of uncleanness.  Well…it would, wouldn’t it? It was written by men, and in the Jewish tradition, women aren’t even allowed in the synagogue if they are menstruating. While the Catholic `Church took over those early writings and collated them into the heavily edited and in places appallingly badly translated Bible we know today, their own terror of women hasn’t helped. 

On the other hand, I’ve had the supreme pleasure of being made love to, and roundly fucked senseless by some guys who don’t mind one way or another. There have only been two men who have let me understand that they consider it a privilege to have sex with me during that time of the month. You won’t be surprised to learn one was The Lovely Chris, and the other his equally adorable brother. 

Well….that one went into areas I hadn’t planned beforehand didn't it? I always write from the heart, and sometimes there’s things I need to air. 

To the 10% of you who should have stopped reading earlier, well….I did warn you.