latebloomer's originals

[latebloomer]

The Maid

The fifty year old taxi driver watched the girl cleaned his mother. She was diligent and took care not to hurt the old lady. Using a wet towel, she wiped the shriveled body of the ninety year old thoroughly. After powdering her with talcum and attaching the adult diaper, she dressed the old lady carefully. Then she picked up the soiled clothing and turned to go to the toilet. She saw him watching her and gave him a shy smile. He nodded his head.

He took a look at his mother. She was already sleeping. Senile dementia had robbed the kindly old lady of most of her faculties. She was not so much living as vegetating. He was consoled that she had the young girl to look after her. He turned to go to the kitchen.

He sat and poured himself a drink of water, comfortable in his singlet and shorts. The twenty one year old Indonesian village girl was in the toilet washing the old lady's clothes. He heard the tap water running into a pail. He finished the drink and went into his room.

The photograph hanging on the wall was fading, getting yellow at the edges. The black and white couple staring out looked awkward and uncomfortable. He remembered the session. It was years after they got married. His wife had insisted on having a photograph and he had finally obliged.

He sat on the side of the bed and scratched his itchy right foot. He took a look at the clock sitting on the bedside table. It was two thirty in the afternoon. His wife was still at the factory and would only be home after seven. He was free until his replacement driver passed him the taxi at six-thirty.

He walked to the kitchen. The petite girl had finished the washing. He watched her hang the wet clothes on a bamboo pole. From the back, she looked scrawny, with slim brown legs covered by scars. As she bent over to take the clothes from the pail, he gazed at her behind.

She finished and turned around. He noticed that she did not look surprised to see him there.

"Pak, Ah Mah sleeping?" she asked in Malay.

"Yah, sleeping," he answered.

"Mak coming home for dinner?"

"Should be. No overtime for her this week."

"Pak want early dinner? I'll cook mee goreng for Pak."

to be cont

[farark]

Nice stuff bro, need to stop reading in the office though...

[ol'coyote]

yah...it's addictive reading these stuffs...

[SengkangGuy]

wow! real life story? it's good

[Whiteblood]

Very addicting and nice to read.

[sexosis]

very interesting! keep it ucmming

[latebloomer]

"No need. I will eat later when I take a break."

"Ok, Pak." She started towards the old lady's room.

"Lestari, wait!" he said. She looked at him, a tinge of fear in her eyes. "Yes, Pak?"

"My legs very tired. Can massage for me?"

She hesitated. Finally, she sighed softly and said yes. Following him into the master bedroom, she looked resigned to her fate.

Entering his room, he got onto the bed. He indicated that the girl sat herself beside him. Pointing to his thighs, he said, "Massage here." When she did not start, he took her hands and placed them on his thighs. "Massage sini lah," he repeated.

She was awkward. Gingerly, she pressed softly on his stout thighs. She avoided looking at him while he stared at her face directly. He was not impressed with her when his wife selected the young girl at the maid agency. He had wanted another who was older and fuller in figure. If he was to spend most of his free time with the maid, she might as well be physically attractive. Which was, of course, not what his wife thought. This scrawny girl was the one who followed them home instead.

Slowly, as he spent most of his afternoons at home, he began to see her in a different light. She had a lovely smile, if she would only smile more often. Her face, though angular, had a nice shape, tapering down to her pointy chin. She had big eyes, and those long curvy lashes. Her legs were scarred from insect bites, but they were shapely.

As she touched his thighs, he was getting an erection. He grabbed her left hand and pressed it against himself. She pulled back and jumped up. "Pak, like this cannot!" she blurted. She stood there shivering, her right hand holding her left wrist away from her body.

"Pak needs you to sayang, Lestari," he said. He had sat up. Now he reached over and pulled the girl closer to him.

"Pak also wants to sayang Lestari," he added, "Pak knows you're very lonely."

She looked up with surprise. "Pak, how you know?" she asked.

"Pak saw you crying at night so many times, when you write your letters home."

to be cont

[latebloomer]

Originally Posted by SengkangGuy

wow! real life story? it's good

Thanks! But real life stories?
Not quite. But it's real in the sense that it happens.
My job (about which I withhold all discussions -- I could tell you, but then I have to kill you ) allows me access into people's lives, and their stories usually make it into mine, albeit with changes to protect the innocent, and the guilty.

I do have some stories whose inspiration stem from my own experience. But don't expect me to tell you which...
Maybe a nicer way of putting it is to say that these are the seeds upon which my overly active imagination performs the devil's task of converting into erotic tales
that I am so glad you guys enjoy.

[latebloomer]

"But like this cannot, Pak."

"Why not? You know how Mak treats me right?" She had often seen his wife put him down, occasionally cursed at him for the smallest of mistakes. "Pak very sad. Can you sayang Pak?"

She stopped struggling, even when he hugged her hard. Tipping up her chin, he kissed her on the lips, feeling their wonderful softness pressed against his. Slowly, very slowly, she began to respond.

He could feel her arms slipping under his, going around to encircle his waist. And she was kissing back. Ever so gently he slipped his hands down her lower back, gliding until they cupped her taut behind. She hmmed through smothered lips but did not complain otherwise.

He got her to lie on the bed. Seeing her petite form lying there gave him a thrill he had not felt for god-knows how long. His usual bed partner, the fat ugly woman he called his wife. stirred up mostly loathing and disgust.

He pulled her T-shirt over her head. The old fashioned beige colored bra with those broad shoulder straps looked somewhat out of place on her supple brownish body. She gazed shyly at him as he pulled off her old shorts, probably some hand-me-downs she brought from home. A pair of conservative panties in fairly thick cotton made him smile.

"Pak, I'm afraid," she mumbled.

"You have no boyfriend before?"

"Have, but only hold hands and kiss."

"Don't worry. Pak take good care of you. Pak sayang ok?" he assured her. As he had expected, she was inexperienced.

Her lips trembled as he forced his tongue between them. As he kissed her neck, she muttered "No, no, don't!" half heartedly before moaning in response.

He removed every last stitch on her body. Gazing at that almost girlish figure with narrow hips and smallish breasts made him realize how grotesque his wife had become. This young girl awakened in him instead, gushy feelings of tenderness, bringing forth an instinctive protective-nature. She also made him as horny as he had never been in many many months.

to be cont

[latebloomer]

He pried off her hands pressing over her breasts, bent over and covered the left nipple with his mouth. One of his hand was caressing up her thighs and trying to push between them.

"Lestari, you must relax so Pak can sayang," he said, "Pak will be very gentle." As she uncrossed her ankles, he managed to slip a careful finger inside. She was already very wet! "Pak, pain! Adoi!" she moaned as he tried inserting a second finger.

She was ready just ripe for the picking. No harm making doubly sure though, he mused as he removed his singlet. His hairy chest might have been muscular in his youth, but the years have not been kind. He carried a paunch that would look just right on a woman six months pregnant, and the accumulated fat over his chest gave him breasts that appeared fleshier than hers.

Between her thighs, he got a whiff that, strangely, made him even harder. He dived into her, tongue jabbing and playing, fully absorbed in tasting her.

Lestari squirmed. "Pak...help...don't, please!" she pleaded softly.

The old man stopped his vigorous licking. Now he removed his shorts and brief. Just below his overhanging paunch, Lestari saw his dark erection, peeking out amidst bushy white hair, looking like a tired snake.

"Pak, I'm afraid! You so big!" Her frightened eyes flashing, she started to tremble.

"Don't worry," he said, grinning, "Pak will sayang you." Climbing onto the bed, he knelt and positioned himself, holding on to her knees. "Just relax. After this, you will enjoy." And with that, he pushed into her.

"Adoi! Pain, Pak, sakit!" Tears welled in her eyes. Pinned down by his superior weight, she could only pushed against his blubbery chest as he plunged into her.

She was really wet, he thought, enjoying the silky smooth feeling inside. More than that, the feeling of superiority, the dominance he had over this girl, gave him such a boost. He had her begging for mercy, this sweet young thing who was lucky to meet an experienced man like himself.

He lasted three and a half minutes. With a shiver, and a grunt of satisfaction, he was off, collapsing on top of the exhausted girl. He was huffing and puffing, sweat dripping off his overweight body. After rolling over, he was content to just lay there, taking care to breathe deeply, feeling his heart kicking around in his chest.

to be cont

[latebloomer]

"Pak, Pak, you okay?" the girl was asking, obviously frightened. He turned slowly to look at her. She was flushed, slicked with sweat and it looked as if she was glowing. "Don't worry," he spoke in a weak whisper. "Pak's alright, just tired."

Later when he got his breath back, he asked, "Are you alright? Still painful?"

She wiped tears away with the back of her hand and said, "Pak so big, so strong, of course still painful."

See, I still got it, he told himself. "How can she not enjoy?" he thought proudly.

The girl left to clean herself, picking up her clothes off the floor where he had thrown them. Soon she came back, dressed and carrying a wet towel with which she wiped his exhausted body.

"You don't tell Mak you know? If Mak finds out about this, you sure get sent home."

"Of course, Pak," she answered. He picked his shorts off the floor and was peeling a couple of notes from a stack of ten's he pulled from its pocket. He handed her two, then added two more when she looked confused. "For you to buy things. Or you could save it to send back home."

"Pak, thank you!" she smiled gratefully. "Em, I've to prepare porridge to feed Ah Mah."

"Go." He started dressing, getting ready for work. As he changed, he was whistling tunelessly, occasionally grinning at himself in the mirror.

Between six thirty, when Pak left the house, and seven fifteen, when Mak came home for dinner, Lestari fed Ah Mah porridge, cleaned her, cooked rice, fried a fish, some bean sprouts and kangkong with sambal, took down the laundry, and managed to have a good cry in between.

At seven-oh-five, she went into Ah Mah's room, where she slept on a thin mattress in one corner. She carefully removed a tin box from deep inside her suitcase. With a small key she wore on a chain around her neck, she unlocked the padlock over the latch. She added the forty dollars to the stack of notes already there, all of different denominations. There were quite a number of coins at the bottom. Gently she removed a jade bracelet and a thin gold ring, held them in her hand as if to ascertain their physical presence before carefully putting them back. Ah Mah would never miss them, and, so far, neither have Mak or Pak. The money was collected from emptying pockets before doing the laundry.

What she had dreaded had finally happened. The last maid had gotten similar treatment. She had shared with the neighbour's maid, who told Lestari at the first opportunity.

At least he was fairly gentle. All he needed was some ego boosting, and, she smiled at this, three minutes. She could live with this, she thought. One year, two years, or however long it took for Ah Mah to die, she vowed to endure it. Anything you want, you fucking old bastard! As long as she got to stay over here.

Anything this fat asshole did would be nothing compared to what her father and brothers did to her back home.

The End

[latebloomer]

The Teacher

"Let's see what we can do about your grades," the teacher said.

He pulled the reluctant schoolgirl closer. She was trembling in fear. However she would not resist his advances. Desperately needing a passing grade in his subject, the fourteen year old would do what he asked.

Hugging the plump girl against himself gave him a thrill. He gave her a kiss on the cheek. Then he kissed her on the trembling lips. His hands cupped her behind.

"You are going to be a good girl right?" he asked. She nodded.

He started to remove her uniform. He took his time with the buttons. Her heaving chest stretched the thin material against her blossoming breasts. At her age, she was already much better endowed than all her classmates.

When he removed her blouse, she was just this side of crying. She made soft whimpering sounds as he sat back to admire her covered breasts. He could see goose pimples along her upper arms. She still carried baby fat on her figure. Her childish face with those lovely big eyes looked pathetically at him.

"Come here," he said. She moved near him. He reached behind her to unclasp the bra. She started to pant heavily as he pulled it off her arms. Her young breasts stood firm and round, the pink nipples tiny buds. She kept her head hanging down when he pulled her nearer. Lifting up her chin, he kissed her again. He was rougher this time, forcing his tongue into her mouth. His organ was pressing against her thighs.

He kissed her along the edge of her jaw, then down her neck. Lowering his head, he suckled one of her nipples, the left. She struggled a little, whimpering louder. He kept one arm around her back and held her tight against himself. He moved his mouth over to the right nipple. His free hand was moving under her skirt to caress her behind.

Next he removed her dark blue skirt. She was wearing a pair of cotton panties with flowery patterns. Her behind was pert and cute. He made her turn around so he could admire it. He got on his knees and kissed it. His right hand had moved to the front to feel around her groin. He could feel her young bush just growing out.

She had stopped whimpering. She still looked scared as she turned to watch him kissing and licking at her behind. She watched him pulled down her panties and she lifted her legs alternately so he could get them off. And he turned her around.

to be cont

[latebloomer]

Her hair was just starting to grow. His eyes gleamed at the beauty of it, looking so fresh, so undisturbed. From where he knelt, he looked up at her looking down, watching him.

"You're beautiful down here, you know? So very beautiful," he told her. He led her over to a chair, made her sit down right at the edge and spread her thighs. He knelt and leaned in to look. He smiled at her. She did not, could not smiled . She was taking quick shallow breaths. Her eyes stared.

Parting her thighs with his hands, he moved his mouth near to her lovely petals. The soft fair skin of her inner thighs felt so smooth, so perfect. He licked the left thigh very near to the groin. She groaned, frightened. He licked the other thigh, even nearer. Then he licked right between her young plump thighs. She made a small squealing sound. He had to force her thighs apart as she tried to close them on his face.

"Do you want to pass my subject? Do you really?" he asked. She was hyperventilating, her eyes becoming wild and staring. He held her face in his hands. Suddenly he gave her a slap on her left cheek, a soft one. The shock of that seemed to wake her up. Her eyes focused on his face.

"Listen! You want me to pass you?" he asked, speaking louder. The girl nodded her head. "Or do you want to fail so you get sent back to China? And waste your mother's effort sending you all the way her?" Solemnly she shook her head.

She kept her thighs apart as he licked between them. He took his time. She was trembling, visibly shaking, as he enjoyed the taste of her. The soft downy hair felt rough against his tongue. He frowned.

"Don't move," he warned her as he walked to his table. He took out the disposable Gillette from the lowest drawer. At the same time, he put something into his pocket. Kneeling back between her legs, he looked at her ashen face and grinned: "I'm going to shave you. Keep still and you won't get cut."

Slowly, very carefully, he ran the twin blades along the soft skin around her petals. The tactile feel of the sharp edges scraping skin gave him goose pimples. He saw the fine down flew off as he blew on it. A few more strokes and she was baby smooth again. He put the razor away and locked his drawers.

This time the texture felt just right. He licked her like he was eating an ice lolly, taking long slurps from bottom to top. Her reaction was more whimpering. He dipped into his pocket, removed the torch-like instrument. Placing it near her lovely petals, he clicked the switch at the side. It started to whine softly. She noticed the sound and looked down, her eyes widened with incomprehension.

to be cont

[latebloomer]

He touched the humming tip to her petals, moving to the most sensitive area. The girl almost jumped, her hands pressed over her mouth to stop herself screaming. He began to play it around, testing the response with different pressures and positions. She was squirming in the chair, a moan escaping between her lips. Sweat ran down her forehead and he licked them off drop by drop, following them downwards till he was licking all round her nubile breasts.

When he stopped, she was breathing hard. "You enjoyed that, didn't you?" he asked. She bit her lower lip, not sure how to answer him. Her heaving breasts and those erect nipples, plus the flush over her upper chest told him the story, he thought. "Want some more?" he asked her. Without waiting for an answer, he clicked the switch. The girl started begging, "Please, oh, please, don't, don't...aaahh!"

He went on for a full five minutes before he stopped. Tears were running down her face. Her breath was jagged. He stood up and started unbuckling his belt. As she sat recovering, he moved over to his high back chair. "Come here," he commanded. Meekly, she came.

"Kneel," he said, indicating the space between his legs. She knelt, her breathing still uneven. He let his pants dropped to his ankles, then pull down his briefs. "Look at it," he said, when she turned away in shock. Slowly she turned back.

"Touch it. Go on, it's not going to bite!" Gingerly, she reached out with a tentative hand. Grabbing her hand, he placed it over his organ. She tried to pull back but he held her tight. He played her hand over it, bringing it down to caress his scrotum.

The girl was terrified. It was obviously the very first time in her life that she had seen a man exposed. He grinned as he noted her expression of horrified fascination. Then he looked at his limp organ and his expression changed.

"Okay, okay. Enough!" He threw her hand off. "Get up!" he said, pulling her to her feet. He dragged her over to his table. Shifting a pile of books, he cleared the table top.

"Get up there!" He made her lay back on the table. He sat back in his chair. Now he was between her spread thighs, his face less than a foot from her young petals.

From his drawer he removed a single rubber glove. Very carefully, he put it on his right hand, making sure it fit snuggly. As the girl watched in horror, he attacked her again. This time, beside eating her, he poked his index finger up her tight anus.

The girl was really squirming. Her eyes opened wide, she hyperventilated and bucked her hips. "Stop it," he told her, "After this there'll be no more. I'll let you go then."

to be cont

[latebloomer]

"And I'll pass you, okay?" he added. She gave a weak nod. And he buried his face into her groin once again, licking and slurping at the denuded petals. His index finger pushed its way in up to the second joint, the tip jiggling inside the warm tight passage.

Despite her fear, the girl began to moan. Whether in pleasure or pain, he could not tell, and did not care. With his free hand he felt his limp organ, gripped it and tried to shake it awake.

He went on till the girl was exhausted and limp on his table. His left arm was aching and his fingers stiff. He wiped his mouth and chin, pulled off the rubber glove. He was flushed. The limp organ in his lap, however, remained limp.

Grimly, he produced a small digital camera and started shooting the exhausted girl from various angles, beginning right between her thighs. She watched him passively as he snapped at her nakedness hungrily.

Finally he let her go, back to her world of school mates, homework and teachers. As she dressed he clicked the camera sporadically.

"You're not to tell anyone about this, you hear? Or else I'll let everyone see your naked photos! You understand?" he warned. The fully dress school girl nodded her head gravely. She seemed untainted, looking as innocent and girlish as if he had not happened.

"Now you can go. And you've passed."

The End