CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Nadine
I’d been living in the condo for just over two months when the first package arrived. The doorman had buzzed me through the cool intercom system the condo had and let me know he was bringing it up.
I figured it was something from Madeline. We had shopped so much together that a few of our purchases had been mistakenly put in each other’s bags before.
But when I opened it, I saw that wasn’t the case.
That wasn’t the case at all.
I opened the outer box and pulled out a beautifully wrapped present.
Excited, I opened it. I knew as part of the contract that Reynolds was supposed to get me gifts from time to time, but I figured that meant what I bought with his card while I was out with Madeline.
I lifted the top off the box and saw something black, white, and silky.
I thought it was lingerie until I laid it out on the bed to try it on.
“What the hell…?”
It was an outfit, but a strange one. There were several pieces to it, and I was having a hard time making sense of it. Then a thought hit me.
Cosplay.
Carmen had said Reynolds liked to dress up and pretend to be other people during sex. That’s when I realized I was looking at a French maid costume.
“Oh…” I said to myself as I assembled the pieces again. There was a little white frilly hat, a very small, black corset-style dress, a pair of lacy black panties, a pair of white thigh-highs with a sexy lace band at the top of them, and a silky white half-apron with ties to go around my waist.
I looked down at all of it, bemused. Then I went through the tissue paper in the box to see if I’d missed something. There was a typed note.
I opened it, and it read:
Nadine,
I have lots of fantasies, but one of my favorites is the thought of having a French maid to fulfill all my desires. I especially love the accent. Wear heels. Make my dreams come true.
—Reynolds
I stared at it. I didn’t know how to act like a French maid. Wasn’t it enough to just put the costume on and look sexy? Why did I have to try to speak in a French accent? I threw myself on the bed, careful not to flop onto the costume, and groaned.
Oh, Jesus. This wasn’t going to go well.
***
The only French maid I could remember ever seeing was Babette in Beauty and the Beast. She was pretty sexy, but I wasn’t sure that was exactly what Reynolds wanted.
I spent the rest of the day looking at videos online about how to speak in a French accent or on what French maids did that was so much sexier than American maids.
Of course, it didn’t take long for me to realize it was just a strange stereotype.
Whatever.
All I knew was that my deep Southern accent didn’t take well to trying to sound French. It was bad. Like, real bad. Or really bad as Lonnie Maitland and Madeline had told me to say.
I sighed and gave up. I just couldn’t do it. When I tried, it was not sexy. It was the opposite of sexy. I’d just have to apologize and hope I looked hot enough in the uniform that Reynolds wouldn’t care so much about the accent.
I spent a lot of time on my hair and makeup.
I went over the top. I even applied fake eyelashes.
The maid uniform was tiny. Really tiny. I barely fit in it, and I wondered if he had ordered the wrong size.
I couldn’t tell, though, because I couldn’t find any tags.
When I had squeezed myself into everything, I put my heels on and looked at myself in the full-length mirror.
Oh, damn. If he wanted sexy, he was going to get sexy.
My eyes went wide as I looked at myself.
I looked like I was about to star in a porno.
My face turned a little pink, and I felt self-conscious.
I waved my hands at my cheeks to try and cool down.
It was one thing to dress up and strip in front of a large audience.
Wearing a costume and trying to be all sexy for an audience of one?
It was so much more intimate and personal.
I wondered if I had time to drink a glass of wine before he got here.
That would help my nerves. Maybe I just wouldn’t speak at all? Would that be weird, though?
I realized I was psyching myself out, so I took a deep breath and then went and stood near the door so that I’d be the first thing he saw when he came in. He’d sent me a text saying he was on his way several minutes ago, so I knew he’d be arriving at any minute.
When I heard footsteps, I popped out a hip and put on a pouty face that was hopefully sexy. He opened the door and was about to call out that he was there when he saw me.
“Oh… Oh my God. Um. Hey.” He gaped at me, and I felt awkward at best.
My face burned as his eyes trailed over me.
He didn’t look turned on as much as…confused.
Did he forget he ordered the costume? Maybe that’s what it was.
He ordered it a while ago and it had to come all the way from France, so it took a while…
wait. It didn’t come from France. Duh. It surely came from somewhere in America. He just…
“Oh!”
Reynolds grabbed me while I was lost in thought.
Before I knew it, he was pushing me back against the nearest wall and kissing me, his hands in my hair as he pressed his tall, muscular body against mine.
He pushed his cock against me, and I gasped.
He was already rock hard and ready to go.
Maybe he didn’t mind me not using the accent after all.
He licked across the seam of my lips, and I opened for him.
His tongue thrust into my mouth, exploring me hungrily.
His kisses were rough and demanding, and I could hardly catch my breath.
“Reynolds,” I gasped out between kisses.
I was already growing wet as he thrust against me and his cock kept hitting me in just the right spot.
He ran his hand through my hair, wrapping a thick section around it and pulling my head down so he could get a better angle on my mouth.
He bit my bottom lip and then sucked on it before letting it go and pulling back to stare at me.
I was breathing hard and watching him open-mouthed. His eyes were burning with desire as they dropped over my body, pausing on my heaving chest as I tried to catch my breath.
“My God, Nadine. I love this,” he growled in my ear.
He bit my ear lobe, then started kissing feverishly down my neck and chest and into my cleavage.
His hands dropped to my breasts, cupping them and kneading them.
I hoped he was careful. They were already stuffed precariously into the corset.
It wouldn’t take much for them to pop right out.
I started to warn him, but before I could, one burst free from its constraints.
“Fuck. That is so goddamn hot, honey.” His lips were instantly wrapped around my nipple which pebbled underneath the suction.
“Ah,” I cried, arching my back and pushing even more of my breast in his mouth.
He used his hand to work the other one free, then moved between the two of them licking and sucking to his heart’s content.
“God,” he moaned, rocking against me again and again, his dick like a steel rod in his trousers. “I need to fuck you, baby.”
I started to say something, but he jerked me off the wall and half carried, half dragged me over to the couch. He pushed me over the back. My hands hit the couch cushion as my ass stuck up in the air. He flung the skirt up over my butt and smacked each cheek, hard.
I cried out, shocked at the sharp pain and at the moisture I could feel against the fabric of my panties.
“That’s right, angel, that’s what you get for turning me on so fucking much. You’re making me crazy.” He said, his face near mine as he bent over me. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
I sucked in air against the restrictive corset top as my legs trembled with desire. I’d never been so turned on in my entire life.
I pushed up so I could see him. We locked eyes as he stood in the bedroom doorway and stared at me, holding a condom wrapper.
His eyes dropped, and he sucked in a breath.
I realized he could see both my naked breasts, pushed up obscenely by the corset top, and my half-naked ass in the air from the pose I was in over the back of the couch.
I started to move, almost scared of how turned on he looked.
“Don’t. Don’t you fucking move,” he demanded. “Oh my God. I’ve never seen anything so sexy in my entire life.” He ran a hand through his hair and strode across the room. He was behind me in seconds. I heard the sounds of his zipper coming down and the foil from the condom wrapper ripping.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard, Nadine. So fucking hard.”
He pulled my panties aside, lined himself up, and pushed into me in one, swift thrust.
He groaned in pleasure and relief as I cried out.
He filled me to the point of it almost being painful.
I was so wet, though, that he could stretch me to accommodate his size without having to work me up to handle it.
His hands went to my hips, and his strong fingers grasped me painfully hard.
I liked it, though. I’d read in my smutty romance novels where the female characters described pain as enhancing their pleasure somehow.
I’d thought it was a load of crap until now.
As he gripped me to the point of leaving bruises and began to thrust into me, I understood what they meant.
“Oh my God,” I cried as he pounded into me with his gigantic cock. It felt so good, and I was locked in position by his large body. I couldn’t move. I just had to take it. I couldn’t stop making sounds as he thrust over and over again.
I had never come from just having a dick inside me.
I’d always had to have clit stimulation of some kind.
Now, though? I could feel an orgasm building, pressing, growing, and I wiggled my hips in search of relief.
His hands held me almost completely still, though, as he grunted with the force of taking me hard over the sofa.