Marriage Can Be Fun?-Part 2 By Wanderer Janice chases her MBA while Frank chases the French maid-and she catches him. This is adult material. Please do not read if you are under age 21 or laws in your country forbid you to do so. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is unintentional and purely coincidental. Earlier parts of this story may be found on the Wanderer bookshelf. They should be read in the following order: 1. Who's In the Closet Now? (Parts 1, 2, and 3). 2. We're Back In the Closet Again (parts 1 and 2). 3. The Engagement Party (Parts 1 to 5). 4. The Engagement Party-Epilogue (Parts 1 and 2). (You may have to look around a little for these). 5. The Engagement Party-Epilogue Two (Part 1). (There is no Part 2 so don't look for it). 6. My Big Deal Social Wedding. 7. Marriage Can Be Fun? (Part 1). Although this part of "Marriage Can Be Fun?" can be read by itself, if you haven't read Part 1 it might help to understand this part if you read Part 1 first. Copyright 2002 by Wanderer. I never completely lost consciousness after Alice's fist connected with my jaw, but I came damn close. Dimly I was aware that I was slung over someone's shoulder, looking down on a pert little ass. Can't be a guy carrying me, guys don't have pert little asses. And a short skirt. And some pretty damn fine, and might I add big, calves, appearing and disappearing in my field of view. Could this be Alice? I always loved sneaking little peeks at her small but well rounded provocative butt, and the beautiful curves of her gymnastic trained legs always gave me an erection if I looked at them too long. Alice's father had been the sommelier of a Michelin three star restaurant in Paris, so he made a nice living, good enough to see to it that Alice got a good private school education, and also, because she was such a cute little doll, to begin gymnastic training at the age of three. Her mother had been a gymnast before Alice, so daughter got additional help from her mom and Alice appeared to be a top-notch Olympic prospect. But tragically Alice's mom was killed in a car accident, and when Mr. Witherington II, who was a wine collector, decided he needed some professional help and enjoyed the rapport he established with Alice's father while spending a month in Paris, he offered him the job of being sommelier at the Witherington estate. Alice's dad accepted, both because remaining in Paris reminded him and his daughter of his deceased wife, and because Mr. Witherington offered to triple his salary. So Alice at age fourteen came to the United States and became my wife Jan's companion and confidante when Jan was only twelve years old. Alice was of short stature, like most Olympic gymnasts, only five feet two inches, but, because of her early start in gymnastics and the intensive training she received, her muscles were well developed for a young girl and they responded quickly to any type of physical work. She could hold a handstand for four or five minutes, lower herself to touch her chin or forehead to the ground, push back up, down, up, hold it-she had remarkable control of her body. When my sister Maddy married into the Witherington family and began to weight train her sister-in-law (who was to become my future wife), who was already pretty damn strong, just from her work around the horses in the Witherington stables, Alice went along to do the little odds and ends. She would towel off the sweaty bodies, keep the water bottles full, record the reps, and bring the plates to the bars. On day my sister Maddy said to Alice, "Alice, please bring that bench press barbell over here." What Maddy meant was for Alice to roll the bar over to the bench press platform because it had four hundred pounds on it. My sister Maddy could bench press five hundred pounds, but Janice was working on four hundred for reps at that time. Alice says, "Oui, madame," picks up the bar with a total of four hundred pounds, carries it over to the bench press platform and lifts the four hundred pounds up to her chest like it's yesterday's newspaper, and sets the bar into the upright arms of the platform. My sister stands there, her mouth open, speechless. Janice, who's been struggling to get more than a couple reps out of the four hundred pound weight, has to sit down on the bench. Both of them are staring at Alice, unable to talk, and Alice is getting very uncomfortable. Finally my sister finds her voice and says, "Alice, do you realize what you've done?" Well, Alice, who is one of the sweetest girls you'd ever want to meet, just knows she's committed the unpardonable sin, and tears come to he eyes, and she begins to cry. My wife Jan has always treated her like a sister, which she practically was, so Alice loves Jan and my sister Maddy because they don't treat her like a servant, they treat her like a cherished friend, and now she knows she's done something to ruin that friendship and the confidence and trust they've placed in her. "Oh, mesdames, I am so sorry, oh, please forgive me, I will never do it again," she sobs, even though she doesn't know what she's done. Both Maddy and Jan look at her for a moment, unbelievingly, and then they break out into hysterical laughter. Well, this only discomfits Alice all the more, and now she is on her knees, crying her little eyes out, copious tears streaming down her pretty cheeks. Finally, both Maddy and Jan find their voices and start talking at the same time. "No, no, you little darling, you didn't do anything wrong, you poor thing, we love you, you just amazed us, you handled that weight like it was tissue paper, you're so strong, you're wonderful, how did you ever get so strong?" And they're both hugging Alice and wiping away her tears with their fingers, and kissing her, and smoothing her hair, and hugging her some more, and now Alice realizes maybe she did something good, although she's still not sure what, and not anything bad, so she gets all smiley, and the girls start dancing and twirling and giggling and Alice still isn't sure why the celebration. So Maddy explains it to her. "Alice, what you just did is phenomenal. You curled a four hundred pound weight up to your chest with a reverse hand grip, and you put it on the bench press arms like it was just a bar without any plates on it. From now on you're going to join us in our workouts. My God, what are you, 5' 2"? I can't believe how strong you are. We know you have a sturdy little body, but early gymnastics must have given you muscles and ligaments and tendons that are exceptionally strong and sturdy," my sister analyses. "Oh, thank you, cherie," Alice says, "I just love to use my body, and I can't thank you enough if you just let me be with you, but to lift these weights with you will be such a pleasure I don't know how to thank you enough." "Don't be so humble," Jan says. "You're more like a sister than a servant, we both love you, we've talked about it, and now the three of us can have fun together, it will make it just so much better." But I didn't know any of this until I told my brother-in-law and best friend, James Pettigrew Witherington III, about what had happened to me the night I stayed out late, until 2:00 a.m. He explained it all to me, so I better understood why Alice had knocked me groggy with one punch, and I'm not a lightweight. I'm six feet and two hundred pounds, and damn athletic, too. Being a grad student at my university I got to use the same weight room the football team did, so I know I was pretty strong. I could bench press two hundred pounds (my weight), and I outdid the quarterback and most of the running backs. The only guys who could do better than that were the linemen, and they were all big beefy guys around two eighty or three hundred. None of them could match my sister Maddy who bench pressed five hundred pounds, and only one guy could do the same as my wife Jan, pressing four hundred pounds, and he was a six foot five inch three hundred twenty pound monster. Thank God at the time I didn't know Alice at five feet two inches and maybe one hundred thirty-five pounds could do the same as Jan or I would have died of fright right then and there. All I knew was that somebody with a cute little ass and nice legs seemed to be carrying me effortlessly up the stairs. Actually, I was enjoying the ride, watching that cute little bubble butt and those massive looking calves. I was thinking I recognized that butt and those calves and that maybe it was Alice carrying me on her shoulder up those two long flights of stairs. I had watched Alice when she worked around our home, dusting a table or pushing a vacuum cleaner. I could see monstrous thighs, filled with cables of muscle, and yet somehow very sexy looking because calves and thighs were in proportion. She didn't have big thighs and skinny calves, her calves were also diamond shaped and large, and here I am looking down on them from my position over her shoulder, at least I think it's her, accentuated by the four inch heels she wore to make herself look taller as she was kind of embarrassed to be only five feet two. Even though I was still pretty much out of it from that punch I just knew it had to be a female and more than likely Alice, no man in the house wore four inch heels that I was aware of. I know the person carrying me is short because I'm six feet and bent over her shoulder like that my head is bouncing into her ass-man it's solid-and my hands are practically dragging on the stairs and I could grab one or both of those oh-so-large calves, and I'm tempted to check'em out, but I'm pretty groggy and I figure I'd better behave myself until I find out what kind of trouble I'm in. Dimly, I realize we've now reached the third floor landing and I'm being carried towards my bedroom. I guess because it's so late, 2:00 a.m., my captor, or probably captress, is going to put me to bed. How nice! I must remember to thank whoever it is in the morning. The door is being opened, and yes, I'm in my bedroom and I'm being flung onto the bedroom sofa. How rude! I bounce a couple times on the soft cushions and I'm sprawled all over it, too dizzy still to move. Then I feel myself kind of hauled into a semi-erect position by someone's hand grasping my shirt, and I'm half off the sofa. Then I'm being slapped! Left cheek! Right cheek! Left cheek! Right cheek! "What the hell!" I yell. "Stop hitting me!" "Then wake up, m'sieur, we need to talk!" Damn, it is Alice! I'm going to fire that little bitches ass! "You're fired, Alice!" I yell. "Get out! Get out!" "I'm sorry, m'sieur," she says, "I do not work for you, I work for Madame Janice." "I don't give a shit," I'm still yelling, "I'm the master in this house, and what I say goes, you're fired!" "No, no, m'sieur, you are not the master, Madame Janice is the master here, she gives the orders, and she says I am her right hand, I am to be in charge while she is away at school to earn her MBA degree." "I don't give a damn," I'm still yelling. "And even if she did leave you in charge she meant that you were to take care of the house, not to take charge of me, you dummy!" "I'm sorry, m'sieur, but Madame Jan specifically told me that if you stray from the boundaries she has set for you I am authorized by her to discipline you as she would do were she here. You staying out to 2:00 a.m. would not be tolerated by Madame Janice, and therefore I am to punish you." "Punish me? Punish me? Are you nuts?" Alice is still holding me by the shirt, my body kind of half off the sofa. And she starts slapping me again! Forehand! Backhand! Forehand! Backhand! "Please do not talk back to me, m'sieur. It will only delay completion of my responsibility," she says. I'm still groggy from her punch on my jaw, but I take a wild swing at her. But from my position half-off the sofa the only thing I can hit is her hand holding me by the shirt, and it's only a glancing blow. It doesn't bother her at all. So I try to push her hand away from my shirt. She has iron solid forearms, and rather large, too. "Look, Alice," I say, "I know you used to be a gymnast, and now you lift weights with my sister and Janice, but you're no match for me. I'm six feet tall and you're only 5' 2". As soon as I shake the cobwebs out of my head from your lucky punch I'm going to have to throw you out. Now you can go peaceably or I'll have to use physical force on you, and I don't want to do that because I'm a gentleman. Where'd you learn to punch like that, anyway?" "Oh, m'sieur, since I am always with Madame Janice her father thought it best that I learn some defensive skills in order to protect her, so I have had several years of training. I hope I didn't hurt you too badly," she said, solicitously. "Naw," I lied, Not as badly as I'm going to hurt you if you don't let go of my damn shirt," I threatened, and again I swing wildly at her left arm holding me, and this time I connected with her upper arm. Boy, did that hurt! Me, not her! Shit, I'm thinking, she must have some kind of metal arm band around her upper arm; I think I've bruised my fingers. "What the hell are you wearing there?" I ask. "Nothing, m'sieur," she says. "Did you hurt yourself?" "Not as bad as I'm going to hurt you," I tell her again. Alice pulls me up to a standing position, and this little 5' 2" bitch is holding me up. I'm thinking if she lets me go I'm probably going to flop back on the sofa. "Please do not threaten me again, m'sieur. It is undignified." "Undignified? Undignified?" I yell at her. "I'll show you undignified!" And I take another wild swing at her, which she easily ducks. Then she hits me. Right in the solar plexus. I can't breathe. I can't breathe and I hurt real bad. I'm going down, but before I hit the floor she catches me and picks me up. Imagine, I'm a guy six feet tall and two hundred pounds and this little 5' 2" servant girl catches me in a cradle hold, pulls me up to her chest, and turns around and sits down on the sofa with me kind of slumped in her lap, wheezing hard trying to get some oxygen in my lungs. "You shouldn't try that, m'sieur, your punishment will have to go all the harder if you resist me," she says. Punishment? What punishment? Maids don't punish the master of the house. If this weren't so painful for me it would be laughable. As I'm thinking this I realize that somehow Alice is lifting me off her lap and twisting me and turning me in mid-air. I know she's an ex-gymnast so she knows all the moves, and I'm like some kind of contortionist, turning somersaults and half-twists and whatever else they call those moves that gymnasts do, except that I'm not doing them, this little 5' 2" cutie is doing it to me and I'm speechless, and I don't mind telling you I'm scared. I mean I don't do somersaults and body flips and loop-the-loops when I'm sober, or even when I'm drunk. And remember, all I know is that Alice has a cute face and a nice ass and legs to die for, and a terrific chest, which, being French, she displays with great abandon. I don't know yet that she has huge arms and plays with four hundred pound barbells, and I'm thinking she's some kind of witch or sorceress to be tossing me around like some Kewpie doll, like I don't weigh anything. All I know is I wind up face down, staring at the floor, lying on her lap, pinned there very tightly by the one leg she's thrown over mine to hold me trapped securely in position, her left hand holding my head down so that all I can do is stare at the floor. Now she says to me, "You need to lower your trousers, m'sieur, but since it is so difficult for you in this position may I do it for you?" I find my voice, and I bellow, "No you may not do it for me! What the hell do you think you're doing, anyway?" "Oh, sir," she says, "I am merely following Madame Jan's instructions should you be out after 10:00 p.m. without a written excuse from her." "What am I, a ten year old kid that I need a written excuse?" I yell. "And what the hell are her instructions, if you would be so kind as to tell me?" I say, facetiously. "That I am to put you right to bed, of course, but that first I am to discipline you, to spank you if you have been a naughty boy, just as Madame Janice would do to you were she here," she responds, matter-of-factly. I can't answer for a couple seconds, I'm trying to digest the implications of being spanked by my maid. "W---w---what? Did I hear you right, spank me? Spank me? Spank ME? Are you crazy?" I sputter. "Of course, sir, I am to act as your keeper while Madame Janice is away at school. I am to be your surrogate wife when Madame Janice is not here. I am to do as she would do, and she has specifically directed me that you are to be disciplined if I suspect that you have been out cheating on Madame Janice." "Whether I'm cheating or not on my wife is none of your damn business!" I tell her. "You let me up this minute or I'm going to have to strike you, and I'm too much of a gentleman to do that. You get that damn leg off me immediately!" "Oh, Mr. Frank," she sighs, "Madame Janice warned me you might be difficult, but what she has told me is that it is important that you learn to behave as if she were here, and I am to do what she would do were she here, and as you know Ms. Jan would certainly be compelled to chastise you in this manner. Alice knew I wasn't about to pull my pants down for her, so she reached underneath my body and undid my belt clasp, and using the metal end she pulled the belt right out of the trousers' belt loops. Then, instead of pulling down the zipper, she grasped the top of my trousers and just pulled, meantime holding me trapped tight across her lap with her right leg thrown over my legs. R---r---rip, went my pants. "The cost of these trousers is coming out of what will be your last paycheck!" I threatened. What I got from Alice was a laugh. "Oh, m'sieur, I just knew you had nice buns," she giggled, "Madame Janice told me. Here, let's remove your shorts, nothing should be protecting your derriere as I spank it," and she ripped off my shorts just as she had my pants. Suddenly I felt my flaccid penis resting against the bare skin of her thighs, and the contact was decidedly erotic. Somehow I just knew I was lying on some damn powerful muscles, my penis was telling me so. I wasn't supposed to enjoy this, and I wasn't. It was humiliating, it was embarrassing, it would probably be painful, but my penis had a mind of its own, and its mind was telling it to grow, grow. Well, it was forcing itself down between her muscular thighs, and she could feel it, she couldn't stop giggling. Now she started playing with me, opening and closing her legs on my trapped penis, which only made my response all the greater. And then she started flexing her quads. Well, I know she had gigantic thighs from all that gymnastics training-her instructor believed in heavy squats and leg extension exercises-he wanted strong leg muscles on his performers so they could stick those landings-and my sister Maddy had insisted on Alice training her legs. "When you get married, Alice, and your husband misbehaves, as he lies between your legs panting like a dog for his nightly orgasm, you just squeeze your legs together a little bit, and after you break one or two of his ribs you'd be surprised at what an obedient puppy your little honey is going to be. Do those squats, Alice, do those squats!" And now Alice was playfully flexing the quads of one thigh, then the other, and I could feel those plates of muscle as they moved in her legs, and I swear, I think the tip of my penis was going to touch the floor, I was so aroused, but before it got there I had a gigantic cum session, and Alice thought it was great fun, getting me to come without she even touching me, or me touching me. "Well, I hope you enjoyed yourself, m'sieur," she laughed, "but now I really must get on to the business at hand, or my mistress will be very cross with me, so please relax your buttocks, sir, it is less painful that way." I had forgotten all about why I was lying across Alice's lap, I was having so much fun. Somehow I didn't think it would ever come to this, but I was quickly disillusioned by the pain radiating across my buttocks and through my coccyx. But Alice wasn't using her hand to spank me, she was using my belt! My leather belt! My very own leather belt from my trousers, on my behind! What irony! I was really angry! I was hurting! I was really hurting! "Please stop," I begged. But Alice was on a mission, there was no stopping her. "How---how---many?" I managed to ask, through gritted teeth. "Since this is your first transgression I will be lenient, m'sieur," Alice responded. "Only twenty-five this time, but this time only," she said. Well, twenty-five may not be so bad if your mommy or daddy is wielding the strap, but Alice is an exceedingly strong woman with very very big biceps- anybody who can bench press four hundred pounds is bound to have very very big biceps-and her twenty-five is like maybe seventy-five from somebody else. After ten I was hurting badly, after fifteen my eyes were beginning to puddle up, after twenty the tears were rolling down my cheeks, and with numbers twenty-three, twenty-four, and twenty-five I was sobbing out loud. Not just from pain, but from shame. Here I am, a male in his late twenties, a senior vice president in a Fortune 500 company, married to the heiress of the company, lying unwillingly over a young woman's lap, and a short young woman at that, being spanked-no, whipped, and with my own belt yet-and feeling helpless, like some little kid being spanked by his mummy or daddy, and I couldn't get away. I had to feel every blow. It was pain, shame, frustration, all rolled together. I hadn't cried like that since I was a kid. But at last Alice said, "There, there," as she consoled me. "That is twenty-five, m'sieur, please don't make me have to do that again." Then Alice turned me right side up and held me on her lap and comforted me. I think she actually was feeling sorry for me. "There, there, mon cher" she said again, "if you behave from now on I will never have to do this again." Small comfort that was. Alice stroked my hair and wiped away my tears, but the more solicitous she was the more I seemed to break down. I don't know. Maybe it was a combination of the stress at work, the angst of being married to a dominating, physically overpowering woman, the embarrassment of being a six foot man who is now sitting on the lap of a small 5' 2" maid who has just finished disciplining her master, or the frustration of having my male ego challenged, but the flood gates just opened and I couldn't stop weeping. I'm leaning my head on Alice's shoulder and my tears are rolling down into the chasm between her breasts. I would have put my head on her bosom-I know that would have comforted me-but she was just too damned short for me to get there. Then I felt myself being lifted-that was a nice feeling-and being carried towards my bed. Alice gently deposited me on the bed, and again soothed my brow and my cheeks and my sobbing gradually stopped. The room grew quiet, and I opened my eyes a little. At first I thought my wife Janice was there, but then I saw that Alice was standing about six feet from the bed and slowly removing her clothing, as if to tantalize me. What did she think she was doing? Now I had seen Alice's body before. Alice was with Janice and me on our wedding night, but I'm afraid Janice kept me too occupied for me to pay much attention to Alice, and Alice concentrated on pleasing Janice while I rested between orgasmic episodes. But as the pain gradually left my butt I was able to get a good look at Alice. My God, what a body! I've already mentioned her thighs and her calves, but she had a tiny waist and broad shoulders. Very broad shoulders. You get very broad shoulders if you practice doing pushups while standing on your hands. Off came the short black skirt that she always wore to do her work around our mansion, and it came off with a little wiggle, and a pirouette, and I'm seeing those gorgeously large calves and the plates of muscle that I had just been lying on moving in her thighs as she did her slow dance. Well, I had an enormous erection that just popped up in the air as I lay propped against the bed backboard watching her move so erotically. B-o-i-i-n-n-g-It took about a second and a half to come to full attention. If you think a 5' 2" woman is too short to do an erotic dance you should have seen this one. Alice was giggling, she seemed very pleased. "What are you laughing about?" I grumbled. "Oh, m'sieur, I was not sure you liked me. I think maybe I am a shorter version of Madame Janice, my body is much like hers, but since I am eight inches shorter maybe my muscles are more prominent, n'est pas? I know that when you married Madame Janice she gave you no choice, so I didn't know if my muscular body would please you, I mean my muscles are so big you might find them ugly, no?" "You're OK," I grumbled again, my dick waving in the air belying my disinterest. "Just OK, m'sieur?" she asked. "Here, maybe I should show you more," and she started to unbutton her frilly, lacy blouse, revealing her six-pack midsection. I swear, she must have less than five percent body fat, maybe three percent. Then she threw her shoulders back to shuck the blouse off, and her balloon size breasts stuck out from here to there. As the blouse came down off her shoulders I saw she wasn't even wearing a bra. That didn't surprise me. I always had a hunch she never bothered. But what did surprise me was that nothing sagged, nothing moved, everything stayed right in place, held up by her heavily striated pecs. I think my penis was about to explode. It was only by the greatest effort that I resisted making a fool of myself in front of my maid. Then Alice pulled her arms out of the sleeves of the blouse and did a playful little bicep flex. I mean to say she did a playful little dance while flexing her biceps, I didn't mean to say she had little biceps. Her biceps were huge! Peaked, bifurcated, large, VERY large, to my eyes as big as my wife's twenty-two inches, maybe even the size of my sister's twenty- five inches, I don't know, I couldn't tell, they looked positively enormous on her 5' 2" body, and my vision was getting blurry, and the room was turning and moving, and I shot a stream of white cum practically up to the ceiling. Boy, was I embarrassed. But Alice seemed to be having the time of her life! She was dancing around, and giggling and smiling as she brought me a towel to wipe myself off. "Oh, m'sieur," she said as she handed me the towel, I was not sure that I could please you, but now I see that you are impressed. I think what Madame Janice says is correct, you do like strong women. Well, you are a strong man, you are very physical, I understand you were a very good athlete in college, and I'm sure you like a challenge. Why would you want a weak, soft, flabby, passive woman? No, I can see why you said yes to Madame Jan when she proposed to you. You need that kind of woman in your life to bring spirit and excitement to your days, and I am here to provide those things to you when Madame Jan is away at school. There is no need for you to be lonely and to seek outside companionship at dirty bars and strip clubs until all hours of the night when I am here to serve you." I couldn't believe my ears. Alice, the friend of my wife's youth, my wife's confidante, the two girls who grew up as close as sisters, and our maid, was offering herself to me? "I was concerned that you might not find me desirable, M'sieur Frank. Your wife is a tall woman; and your sister is almost a half-foot taller than I am. Even if you find me attractive as a woman, and Madame Jan said she thought it was so, I thought you might find my shortness of stature displeasing. May I tell you something?" "Please do," I said, finding the direction this conversation was going to be fascinating. "Well," she giggled, "I always had a little crush on you," and she started to blush. "You have such a cute derriere, and you are so tall, and how do you say it?---well made? If it were not for my mistress Jan taking you for her own I might very well have," she said, turning her head away from me and covering her mouth with her hand as she suppressed a giggle, but continuing to watch my response out of the corner of her eye. I certainly was flattered. It isn't every day a beautiful young woman says she finds you appealing, and I think I started to blush a little, too. "That is very nice of you, and if I had not committed myself to Jan I am sure you and I could have been very, very close friends," I said, and I put the emphasis on the word 'close,' making her giggle again. "Oh, m'sieur, it is no problem, we will be close anyway," she responded. Now I was getting alarmed. Much as I would like to bang this little French maid I knew it might be that Jan was testing me through Alice, and I didn't want to lose a good thing. My job in her family's Fortune 500 company, my elite status as a senior vice-president, my mid-six figure salary, I didn't want to lose all that for one night's romp with the maid, regardless of how cute she was. I was not going to let her tempt me. "I'm sorry, Alice," I said, "much as I find you attractive and you are attracted to me, still my loyalty is to my rich and beautiful wife in this home." Of course, what I did outside this home should be none of Alice's concern, but regrettably she seemed to be making it her business. "But you have no choice, m'sieur, I have my orders from Madame Jan, and I will carry them out." Now what the hell did that mean? Alice steps over to the bed that I was semi-reclining on, then this little 5' 2" bitch picks up my two hundred pounds as easily as she picks up her feather duster and carries me back to the sofa. "I see you are still excited, Frank," she says, alluding to my penis which had now come back to life after its gigantic orgasm. "May I call you Frank if we are to be intimate?" "No, no," I say, "we can't be intimate. Janice will kill me," and I meant that literally. "One night of bliss is not worth our both losing our lives!" I gasp. "Oh, Frank, not to worry. You see, Madame Janice---Jan---has given me strict orders. The first time I catch you straying---this time---I was to punish you severely---as I have just done---because Jan is anxious that you bring no sexually transmitted diseases or AIDS into this home. And then I am to offer myself to you, the purpose being that you feel no need to stray while your wife is away at school. And if you resist I am to take you forcibly. You know your wife is a very determined woman, and you and I should not go against her wishes, n'est pas?" Was I hearing right? If I felt the need for female companionship I was to screw the maid? At my wife's orders? It had to be some kind of trick my rich and adorable wife was using to test me. Damn if I was going to fall into that trap and get bounced out of the good thing I had going. I'd make a big show out of it---my wife would be so pleased with me when Alice reported back to her how moral and ethical and loyal I had been. "No way, you tramp!" I yelled at her. "I love my wife, I would never dream of betraying her while she is away giving her all to become a better executive at my company---er---her company! How dare you tempt me to be disloyal? You should be ashamed of yourself!" Boy was I putting on a good show. Jan would have to give me an A+ grade for the husband category. "Oh, Frank, if you don't find me attractive then why is your penis so excited?" Man, she was really working hard at trapping me. Alice continued. "When you look at my body I can see your thing begin bobbing up and down, and if I show you my muscles," and here she flexed her bicep, and this big boulder of a muscle grows on her upper arm-and sure enough I involuntarily shoot another wad of cum into the air-"you seem to like what you see," she giggled. "I---I---I'm thinking of my wife, your muscles look so much like her muscles," I alibied. Fast thinking, Frank, I was congratulating myself. Alice pumped her right bicep, her left hand resting on her hip, and she was watching the expression on my face. "You like my muscles, don't you, sir?" "No, I don't," I said, as I furiously pumped my ding-dong, trying to bring it back to life. "Would you like to feel my bicep, sir?" she asked. "No I wouldn't," I said, as I got off the bed and ran toward her rapidly inflating arm muscle. I put one hand on it, then the other, feeling its hardness, and now my ding-dong was doing its own thing, rising rapidly and pushing against her womanliness. She was grinning ear to ear as I tried to encircle her bicep with my two hands and found I couldn't. Now I was pushing up against her unyielding bosom, my penis trying to penetrate into her, and I was plainly gasping out my desire. Alice placed her two hands on my waist and slowly, ever so slowly, started to lift me straight up. I could feel my heels come up off the floor, then I was standing on tip toe, and then I felt my toes leave the floor and she held me suspended, my palms resting on her bulging cannonball biceps as she held me. Imagine, this gorgeous little 5' 2" French maid was holding my six foot two hundred pound body up in the air so that I was looking down on the top of her head and right into the deep cleavage of her magnificent bosom. I was ready to blow again, as signified by my penis rapidly banging into her abdominal six pack as she held me aloft. "I think we need to give you some relief, Frank," she said. "Yes, yes," I gasped, "oh yes," I said, thinking she had in mind a hand job. Alice carried me by holding me suspended around the waist, back to the bed, where she placed me on the bed and climbed on top of me before I could move. A wave of fear of what my wife Janice would do to me if I continued this act of disloyalty swept over me. "No, no, Alice, I can't do this," I moaned. "Janice will kill me," and that wasn't just a figure of speech. I feared for my life. "Aren't you sweet?" Alice said. Meanwhile she forced my two arms above my head by gripping both my thumbs in one of her small hands. Now I couldn't move my arms while she worked my prick with her free hand. I was a big man being used for her pleasure and held captive by a small girl. What a helpless feeling! "Such loyalty should be rewarded," she commented as she plunged my tool into her vagina. "Oh, God, no," I lamented as I heaved my hips into her body, she returning the response. Alice kept giggling while she humped me mercilessly. My wife Jan had accomplished one thing for sure. With this kind of maid service available at home I would never have to stay out past 10:00p.m. again. Hmmmmm, I don't think I'll fire Alice after all. Next: My wife Janice comes home. Oh-oh.