"Seven years," Delilah responds with a grin towards Ms. Larson. "I was... not in a good place. And Ms. Larson gave me a way out of that. It was originally just supposed to be a year long employment, enough to help me get on my feet and get back to being in charge of my own life." The way she looks at Ms. Larson seems to be the look of either a devoted follower or a lover. It's likely both, and from the short time I've spent with Ms. Larson, I can't blame her.
"She's the best maid I've ever had," Ms. Larson looks at Delilah with pure appreciation. It's clear to me that despite the dominant and submissive relationship they have, with Delilah's subservience to Ms. Larson going far beyond employer/employee, there is genuine affection between them. They are friends, confidants. Or maybe I'm making all of this up and these are the baseless observations of a horny 18 year old boy. I'm generally a good judge of people though, it helps when making a movie to be able to get the most out of your actors.
"What did you do before this, Delilah?" I ask, giving Lauren a chance to spend some time shoveling pasta and chicken into her mouth. Most of my food is gone now anyway, only a few bits of pasta and two--three if they're small--bites of bread left. I'm trying to savor it though, I imagine a chef like Julie doesn't want to make the same stuff very often, so I'm trying to do the math in my head of how much pasta to pile on the bread, and how much to eat on its own when the bread is gone.
"I did a lot of stuff," she replies, "Immediately before this job I was unemployed for a while. But before that, I worked for a professional cleaning service, I was an office administrator, I was a babysitter... The list goes on for a while, none of them lasting very long. Nor were any of them really enjoyable." As she's talking I feel something brush against my leg. I shift back instinctively, but the object follows me.
I look down and see a dark brown, perfectly smooth and pedicured foot. I look up and see Julie smirking in my direction, a playful look that fits her well. I shift back forward, and her foot slides up against my leg again. Her toes splay apart and almost grip my shin, making their way up and down my leg. I shiver at the feeling and shift my chair even closer, earning a look from Lauren, confusion in her eyes. She looks down and sees Julie's foot on my leg, and an eyeful of my cock. A blush spreads across my sister's face and she quickly looks up to focus on her food again, clearly accepting what is happening enough not to interrupt.
"Well I'm glad you're here," I say, my voice a little choked as Julie continues to tease me with her foot. Her soft skin is electric against me, making me melt from the inside out. She is divine. Truly a beautiful, erotic force of nature who knows exactly the effect she has on me. It's only my second day here and I'm falling hard for the chef and more than ok with that. I'd do anything if she would continue to smile at me like that.
"I like getting to work for Ms. Larson," Delilah continues, oblivious to the fact that only half of my brain is working right now, "and meet all the students that come through here. And obviously, the sex is good. I have an incredibly high libido--"
"Some might say too high," Ms. Larson cuts in, and Delilah grins at her in response.
"I wouldn't, but some would definitely say that. Anyway, I have a high libido and usually at least one of these college kids is down to fuck me. And that's not even counting what Ms. Larson does to me. Still, three times a day minimum to keep myself sane, but the nudity helps and keeps me turned on to make it easier to cum." She's so matter of fact about her sex life and her apparently near constant masturbation. It's intimidating but also admirable. I suppose I have unintentionally been very open about my sex life since I got here. Everyone at the table knows about Lauren and I masturbating together and what happened with Julie afterwards. And none of them seem to care. Well, I guess Julie and Ms. Larson think it's hot. So they care a little bit.
"Don't you get like... sore from getting off that much?" Lauren asks quietly and inquisitively.
I'm also very interested in the answer, but my focus is snatched by Julie's foot leaving my leg and pressing gently against my cock. She traipses her toes, painted black, along my shaft and presses down, putting a bit of pressure on both my cock and my balls. It's a strange sensation, and not one I would normally seek out, but receiving it from Julie makes me enjoy it more. I scoot forward an inch or two in my chair, pushing my cock against her foot wholeheartedly. I see her eyebrow raise across the table and that fucking smile returns. God yes.
"Not really," Delilah says, "I don't go at it for a really long time every session. I know how to make myself cum as quickly as I want, and I just aim for that release whenever the need arises. When I'm allowed..." she looks over at Ms. Larson who returns the look lovingly. Oh. That is an interesting aspect of their relationship I hadn't been expecting.
"You're normally allowed," Ms. Larson purrs, as if the rest of us aren't there. Hell, I'm barely here, with the feel of Julie's foot gliding down my genitals until she is lifting my hardening cock with her toes. It's a tease, only a tease, there's no risk of me cumming or getting too worked up, but it's enough to make my cock slowly rise to the occasion. With how quickly even this is getting me erect, it's almost like I haven't already had two powerful orgasms today. But my body doesn't understand the concept of rest.
"Uh," Lauren starts quietly, "what do you mean by 'allowed'?" she asks. It's not an overly complicated word, but Lauren and I are both incredibly inexperienced in the world of kink. All of our sexual experience, outside of maybe a kiss or two, has happened in this house. Being "allowed" to cum, and that psychosexual ramifications of such a concept, are beyond our scope of understanding. I had a very short crash course in Ms. Larson's office when she stopped stroking me until I said the right words. Opting into that, and actively wanting to be denied is still confusing, however. The point is to enjoy yourself, and then cum, right?
"It means--" Delilah starts before Ms. Larson cuts her off.
"It means that Delilah gets off on being controlled, and on giving up agency over her body sometimes," Ms. Larson reaches out a hand and gently places it on Delilah's hand, squeezing it affectionately, "And sometimes she knows that if she lets me decide when she gets to finish, when she gets to have that orgasm she's chasing, it will be all the better for her."
Delilah nods in agreement, a rare blush coloring her pale cheeks. She must enjoy this aspect of their relationship, otherwise she wouldn't do it, and Ms. Larson doesn't seem the type to force that sort of thing on someone. After seeing her start openly masturbating by the pool, though, I hadn't thought anything could embarrass her. Maybe she's just not used to having it explained to teenagers so matter-of-factly.
"That doesn't scare you a little, Delilah?" Lauren asks. Or at least she says something like that. My mind is going hazy as my cock hardens under the assault of Julie's foot expertly toying with me. I wonder if she is trying to get me to cum. I don't think I'll be able to, not from this, but it's certainly distracting, and oddly pleasurable. I've never been one to really be into the whole foot fetish thing, but something about what Julie is doing to me is enticing. I let out a quiet grunt, hopefully too quiet for anyone to hear, and slowly grind my hardening cock against Julie's upright foot, humping it slowly under the table.
"No, I trust Ms. Larson with my life. That includes my orgasms. And I know she trusts me to tell her if I truly need something that she's denying me." Again she looks at Ms. Larson so lovingly that you would think they were married.
"It's a give and take, for both of us. I'm not 'in charge', I'm just the dominant," Ms. Larson explains. "She is giving up control to me and I appreciate that because we both enjoy that. But if she ever asked to not be my little, pathetic, orgasm addicted toy, I would understand and that would be that." Lauren and I both blush at the lewd description of Delilah, both of us still getting accustomed to the casual vulgarity. It's a drastic change from the muted, conservative home we grew up in.
"Oh, ok," Lauren says, clearly still trying to wrap her head around the concept. I wonder if she is interested in something like that, on either side of the table. Hell, I don't even know if I am. "Uh, good for you two then. I guess. That's..." She keeps talking but I focus more on the feel of slowly, subtly humping my cock against Julie's foot. Why does this feel so good? I'm not actually fucking anything. Not sliding my cock into an orifice, or between my hand. Just humping. Grinding my needy virgin cock against her foot with desperate intent. And then her foot is gone and I involuntarily whimper quietly. Julie gently bites her bottom lip and smirks at me, raising an eyebrow as if to say "See?"