This is a fictional work. Everyone is 18 years of age or older. Enjoy.
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The summer before college Anna had taken a part-time job cleaning lake houses up north. It meant she was able to live by the water, and she was able to work for tips without having to tend tables. It didn't take her long to know the families. Some only up on the weekends and some there all summer long.
At the lake she felt closer to the life she wanted.
In a pair of faded jean shorts and bleach stained tank top she hoisted a soapy bucket of water into the bathroom and let the mop soak it in as she wiped a dab of sweat from her brow. Today the sun pierced the sky and she was glad to be indoors preparing the Kingsley's home for their weekend retreat, dragging the mop across the floor.
They were the type of wealthy she craved, the kind where their only worry was which waterfront property they would visit. Sometimes, while she waited for the floors to dry she would try on Mrs. Kingsley's scarves or hats or heels, twirling around and speaking in the most haughty accent she could.
Anna came from a small town just outside the lakes, which meant she had big dreams. So, today when she dug through the closest she went deeper, looking for something she could possibly borrow without it being missed. She'd give it back, she just wanted a little something nice for once.
At the very back of the closest was a stack of cardboard boxes, one by one she went through them. Old pictures. Baby clothes. Vintage jackets with shoulders pads. In one unmarked box Anna's eyes went wide as she peeled back the cardboard folds.
A collection of sex toys were on dipslay, ranging from small or slender vibrators, to thick fleshy coloured dildos, anal beads, a few plugs, and two pairs of handcuffs - one fury and one not. It was mostly boredom and partially imagination that had her pull a thin pink vibrator from the box. She gave the dial a turn and nothing happened.
Whatever had happened with these toys was long ago, but it inspired such thoughts from Anna. Images of Mrs. Kingsley laid back, pushing the thickest toy into her. She wasn't a bad looking woman, leggy and blonde but a bit frail looking as she worked into her late thirties.
Mr. Kingsley wasn't a bad looking man either, dark hair slowly starting to catch greys, a strong chest and voice like gravel. It was a money voice, she decided and she assumed they both sounded good when they came. Like angels singing.
Anna wouldn't know what she sounded like, she'd never slept with anyone. Taking the vibrator and leaving the box in front of the closet, she gave it a quick wash in the adjoining bathroom and dropped her pants and panties, placing one foot up on the tub, while the other remained on the floor.
She'd put plenty of pens and markers inside of her and this was just a little thicker. She wanted to see what would happen if she was allowed to cum when no one was listening or banging at her door. Would she make a sounds?
Pressing the tapered head to the entrance of her unshaven pussy, Anna slowly worked the tip in. It was all about concentration, having to take the vibrator out and lick until it was coated in saliva. Only then did she more comfortably slide it back in. This time the vibrator sank in at least two inches, a breath caught in the back of her throat. She pushed a little harder and more sank past her folds slick with her own spit and juices.
The idea that she was using Mrs. Kingsley's toy had gotten her wet, her fingertips coated. More dripped out as she moved the vibrator in and out quickly, forehead pressed to the wall of the shower. Sloshing came from between her thighs in a matter of moments and she felt a tightness grown in her stomach. She was sure she was going to cum, even though she barely made a sound other than labored breathing through a clenched jaw.
So close to the edge she was frantic now, body jerking as she brought herself near orgasm only to have the lumbering form of Mr. Kingsley parade through the bathroom door. He paused and cursed, "Holy shit."
Anna immediately clapped her legs closed, vibrator still buried in her young pussy, and thighs so slick. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She panicked, grabbing her shorts from the floor as her face grew scarlet.
Her body was a good one, soft around the hips with perky breasts she liked to cup in both hands and watch as they overflowed through her fingers. She might have been a little tender in the middle, but it never bothered her. She'd never had someone assess her while naked. Even half naked.
Until today. Mr. Kingsley's eyes were wide, but he reached out his hands to stop her as she tried to sneak past him, hands smearing against her shoulder and unintentionally shoving down the strap of her tank. "No, no, no, it's okay."
"No, it's not!" Anna nearly shrieked. "You're going to fire me and I...and I don't know what I was thinking!"
"That you were horny and wanted to get off," he offered with a smile on his face, hand smoothing down her arm. "I've been young too and caught in all sorts of place I'd rather have not been. Why don't you finish. It sounded like you were getting close."
Mortified she blushed further but curiosity struck her. "I sounded like? Was I making noise?"
"A little. Very breathy. A very good sound."
"You think?" She found confidence in his nod, but nervousness as he stepped forward into her. A married man shouldn't come this close to her - even if she had fantasized a hundred times that he'd approach her while she was folding laundry or stocking the cupboards.
A married man shouldn't have placed his hand on her hip, thumb brushing her leg in small circles which made her shiver. "I'd like to make you cry out. If you'd let me."
"You shouldn't. Where is Mrs. Kingsley?"
"She will be up tomorrow."
