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Book: A Fine Profession (The Chambermaid's Tales Part One) by Sarah Michelle Lynch
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Authors: Sarah Michelle Lynch
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and wonder. Look at them.”
I watched in the mirror, h azily, as he moved inside me. His hands wandered over my breasts, bouncing and holding them, telling me I gave new meaning to the term Rubenesque.
“ Put your arms up, behind yourself, behind my neck.”
I did and when I had, I saw what he was getting at. My arms raised, my breasts moved too, and the tips lifted so that I appeared smaller of shape and size, but still quite big. Those large, uncomfortable things that had sprouted and encouraged mental agony in my late teens now looked very different. He tweaked my nipples so I could see in the mirror, and my armpits looked feminine and dainty against the hefty glands. I turned my head and he kissed me deeply, longingly. He pulled my neck so I rested back against his shoulder and he trapped me there so I couldn't observe anymore.
“ I'm watching myself fucking you Charlotte. You're the most beautiful woman I know. I love you. I'm watching myself fill your little pussy with my rampant cock and balls. I love you. I love your body. I want to fill you…”
“ Alex, fuck me.”
He was playing his part so well. He made me go down in the doggy position, so that we were sideways on with the mirror and we could both watch. His large penis entered and filled me, extracted and bulged, each time both of us groaning and sighing for its return. I did not know where I was. I screamed and begged, shouted for him to fuck me harder, faster, sharp er, longer, deeper. I wasn't sure if I came. The sensations were too many to distinguish between. We fell down, sweaty and subdued, spent and energy-less. I was satisfied nonetheless.
“ I love you, Alex.”
“ Baby doll,” he murmured, cradling me. We fell asleep, naked and entangled.
We woke in the night and his fingertips scaled my body in the moonlit room. I didn't open my eyes. All I felt was a mouth at my throat and then the touch of his fingers inside my still sodden womanhood. He encouraged me to ride him hard and fast while he pummelled my clitoris. I realised I had muscles down there I never knew could do what they did that night. I had an epiphany. I realised sex could be really good without romantic notions, without even an agenda, and I understood the pleasures of the flesh finally. I wanted more of it, too. Alex told me he could maybe turn for a woman like me, but we enjoyed that one night and left it there. He was a gentleman, really, he was, insisting on holding me all night, cooking me breakfast in the morning. It really wasn't awkward. We had both given each other the confirmation we really needed. Our friendship could survive anything, our problems could be solved; I could overcome my insecurities and he might finally tell his family he was gay.
Chapter V
A Harsh Truth
Alex's spare room was where I stayed after that, whenever it was my night off. We even spent a lot more time together, despite the mind-blowing sex we had shared that was unquestionably consigned to the archives. I had a couple of dalliances in some pub toilets (not the same pub and not the same night). I was not quite brave enough to get to know anyone. The liaisons were quite unsatisfactory but not pointless. I don't know… I guess I was trying to re-enact something I'd shared with my best friend. Something that felt at once so natural and yet so erotic was never going to happen again that easily, though.
There were sev eral very drunken nights when Alex and I both found ourselves partner-less and I would try to initiate something. Well, he really was gorgeous, well-endowed and someone I trusted totally and utterly. He was so gentlemanly and always tried to let me down gently. Things soon got heated, however, so I got a flat of my own. It was above a chip shop in a bad area of the city centre but I made it my own and it was my own space. I could have stayed in the hotel full-time but it was becoming difficult to put up with the raucous party nights. I also sometimes felt as though I
I watched in the mirror, h azily, as he moved inside me. His hands wandered over my breasts, bouncing and holding them, telling me I gave new meaning to the term Rubenesque.
“ Put your arms up, behind yourself, behind my neck.”
I did and when I had, I saw what he was getting at. My arms raised, my breasts moved too, and the tips lifted so that I appeared smaller of shape and size, but still quite big. Those large, uncomfortable things that had sprouted and encouraged mental agony in my late teens now looked very different. He tweaked my nipples so I could see in the mirror, and my armpits looked feminine and dainty against the hefty glands. I turned my head and he kissed me deeply, longingly. He pulled my neck so I rested back against his shoulder and he trapped me there so I couldn't observe anymore.
“ I'm watching myself fucking you Charlotte. You're the most beautiful woman I know. I love you. I'm watching myself fill your little pussy with my rampant cock and balls. I love you. I love your body. I want to fill you…”
“ Alex, fuck me.”
He was playing his part so well. He made me go down in the doggy position, so that we were sideways on with the mirror and we could both watch. His large penis entered and filled me, extracted and bulged, each time both of us groaning and sighing for its return. I did not know where I was. I screamed and begged, shouted for him to fuck me harder, faster, sharp er, longer, deeper. I wasn't sure if I came. The sensations were too many to distinguish between. We fell down, sweaty and subdued, spent and energy-less. I was satisfied nonetheless.
“ I love you, Alex.”
“ Baby doll,” he murmured, cradling me. We fell asleep, naked and entangled.
We woke in the night and his fingertips scaled my body in the moonlit room. I didn't open my eyes. All I felt was a mouth at my throat and then the touch of his fingers inside my still sodden womanhood. He encouraged me to ride him hard and fast while he pummelled my clitoris. I realised I had muscles down there I never knew could do what they did that night. I had an epiphany. I realised sex could be really good without romantic notions, without even an agenda, and I understood the pleasures of the flesh finally. I wanted more of it, too. Alex told me he could maybe turn for a woman like me, but we enjoyed that one night and left it there. He was a gentleman, really, he was, insisting on holding me all night, cooking me breakfast in the morning. It really wasn't awkward. We had both given each other the confirmation we really needed. Our friendship could survive anything, our problems could be solved; I could overcome my insecurities and he might finally tell his family he was gay.
Chapter V
A Harsh Truth
Alex's spare room was where I stayed after that, whenever it was my night off. We even spent a lot more time together, despite the mind-blowing sex we had shared that was unquestionably consigned to the archives. I had a couple of dalliances in some pub toilets (not the same pub and not the same night). I was not quite brave enough to get to know anyone. The liaisons were quite unsatisfactory but not pointless. I don't know… I guess I was trying to re-enact something I'd shared with my best friend. Something that felt at once so natural and yet so erotic was never going to happen again that easily, though.
There were sev eral very drunken nights when Alex and I both found ourselves partner-less and I would try to initiate something. Well, he really was gorgeous, well-endowed and someone I trusted totally and utterly. He was so gentlemanly and always tried to let me down gently. Things soon got heated, however, so I got a flat of my own. It was above a chip shop in a bad area of the city centre but I made it my own and it was my own space. I could have stayed in the hotel full-time but it was becoming difficult to put up with the raucous party nights. I also sometimes felt as though I
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