Domestic female male yes sir (first section)

Domestic, male woman yes sir
The first week
I've been married for 20 years, my wife as I have worked out, in different jobs, and recently I've had big surprises inside my own home. We have two maids working, a cook, who works a month and a day girl who comes every Wednesday, who takes care of housekeeping. My story is about this maid, Ligia had been working at home for at least two years, we had no greater freedom, on the contrary our always formal and respectful deal. That day everything was different, I went home for lunch, which I rarely do. I ate quickly, and I decided to kill the rest of the afternoon, put on shorts, T-shirts and splattered on the living room couch to sleep in front of the TV on. That's when I realized Ligia cleaning everything around me, I asked her if I should get out of there so I wouldn't get in the way, and she said she didn't need to, and the time went by, and I was weird when cleaning was always focused around me. The flannel insistently went and returned, in the same places, where it had passed before. Already apprehensive, I came to imagine that she was in the mood for an extra valley, but this matter would never be dealt with with with me, but with my suspicious wife, I realized, that she went into the kitchen, and when she came back, she closed the door behind you. He pulled prose, something I don't remember, so I decided to make fun of, maybe get in the game, and then I told her. “You don’t have to pass the flannel on me, I’m clean,” she didn’t beg, she answered. “In you, I don’t pass the flannel, I clean with my hand!” An intense chill ran through my neck, a threat of erection, and a silence provoked by my total inability to know what to do next. You could have shut me up, but I didn't. What do you mean? I asked her. I already explain to you, and decidedly advanced on the couch, leaned over me, and said, “Let me smell you, to know if you’re really clean.” You smelled my neck once, twice, and then you licked it, at the same time you squeezed my dick hard enough. Very horny, very amazement, but the smell of that maid was intoxicating, mixed with sweat and cheap perfume. He stuck his index finger in my mouth, then wet from my saliva, squeezed my nipple by putting his hand inside my shirt. Scared I said. “and if the cook sees, tell my wife” "Fuck you, now I'm gonna make you come" He stretched out the neck of his knitted blouse, pulled out a chest, and said, “Suck up here faggot” While I was sucking that chest, half withered, small, I could taste the salty sweat of that skin. My hands joined theirs to unbutton my shorts and my throbbing dick out. Laughing like a long time ago, my dick was loose. She standing in front of me, me sitting on the couch with her legs stretched out, gives a spit on her bright, hard head, and with one hand starts jerking off, energetic movements, the other hand pulls at the same time my shorts and underwear until it reaches the knee, to return next to my nipple, and tightening only the beak, causing intense pain. I liked it! Jets in a row spread over my belly, and in her hand, now with slower movements waiting until the last drop, me with eyes closed, enjoying every second. Without waiting for this, Ligia shouts: “Son of a bitch” “Next week you'll get fucked.” Of course, I've spent the whole week thinking anxious to know what the corrective would be,