Was this really Liz's husband Paul? I was fascinated as he glided across the room and carefully bending his knees put the tray down on the coffee table.'Shall I pour, madam?' he asked.'Yes, please, Caroline.'Caroline picked up the teapot and started to pour the tea. I watched transfixed, hoping Liz wouldn't think I was staring. 'Sugar, Miss Simmons?' Caroline asked.'No, thank you.' I was concentrating so much on Caroline's appearance that I could hardly get the words out. His feminine, made-up face was quite pretty yet I could just recognise Paul's features. His dark hair was formed into a short bob. He wore a short black maid's dress with white lace trimmings over a white underskirt, that was slightly longer than the dress and flared out to give it shape. The maid's uniform was completed by a white apron and a lacy white cap. Black nylons covered his shapely long legs finishing in a pair of high heeled black shoes. A well manicured hand passed me a cup and saucer. If Liz hadn't told. ’ My refusal escapes my mouth in a whimper. ‘See how easy it is.’ His moist tongue flicks my neck. His lips softly clamp my neck where he licked it. He suckles, strokes my arm again. His other hand moves down my waist, takes hold of my inner thigh where it connects with my groin. I part my thighs slightly. He rubs my groin, strokes my crotch with his thumb, lightly. I squirm on his lap. ‘I think I like this yellow summer dress the best. I can feel your panties through it. The one with the butterfly embroidery, isn’t it?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘I like that one too.’ He pulls me close so I can feel his erection at my back. I imagine him dressed in the navy polo shirt and crisp khaki slacks I ironed this morning, his brown leather loafers, the gold face of his Rolex pressing into my thigh. He is rubbing me more urgently now. I squeeze his hand with my thighs. I lean my head on his shoulder. I look into his eyes, light blue and pensive. I know he is thinking about where he can take me. ‘Which part were.
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