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Erick pulled the young maid down with him into the tall willowy grass of the sand dune. He’d carried her far enough away so that he knew they would not be disturbed, and the fact that she had come with him made him know that he could do what he wanted with her. Not that he hadn’t really known that all along. There were few maids who cared to resist him for one reason or another, and the reason was usually that he knew just how to get to them. He’d been watching this one ever since she came to the house. She was his sister-in-law Sylvie’s personal maid. And because Sylvie gave her little to do, it appealed to him to take up a little of the young servant girl’s time. She was not more than 19, dark haired and freckle-faced. What a little beauty. He’d gotten her out of the house in her full maid’s regalia, that ridiculous gray and white outfit with the ruffled apron in front just like some old fashioned French maid. Erick knew that it was his mother, Thelma, who insisted that all the family servants dress this way, even though she had her own town house in Grandville and only came out to the nearby shore from time to time to check up on what was going on.
Erick pushed himself down over the faintly struggling girl’s body and kissed first the nape of her neck, and then started pulling away the top of her uniform. It was easy enough to pull the zipper down and to spread the front of it so that he could touch and kiss her pale freckled shoulder. She giggled and protested, but his hands sought out the small round orbs of her breasts, beneath the prim little brassiere that she wore.
Christ, he hadn’t been with a girl who wore a brassiere in so long, it felt positively wicked! Suddenly, he knelt up and pulled her up to her knees in front of him.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.