She leaned up, sitting back on him. His cock slid into her. Her hole was so tight that it was somewhat painful for him. It was Melissa who moved on his cock. She rose upon her knees, lifting herself off him and then sitting back down. Her breasts bounced with her movements. He reached around her and took hold of them, squeezing hard and pinching her nipples.

When he was fully inside of her, her buttocks nesting in his lap, his cock moved thick and hard and slowly. The tightness of her asshole and the unaccommodating dryness soon grew pleasing to Steve. He squeezed her breasts harder still and felt his cock expanding, pushing, widening the tunnel of her asshole. She felt it, too.

"Yes, yes!" she moaned. "Come inside of me. I want to feel your cock throbbing against me, filling me. Squeeze my breasts harder," she urged. He squeezed them so hard that he was afraid he might hurt her. His cock expanded yet further until he felt it filling and exploding with his release.

Chapter Eight

Maurice lived in a cozy apartment over the large garage where the two sleek black limousines were stabled. He was essentially a solitary man.

He took his meals in the great house with the other servants, Nellie, George and Madam Andre, but otherwise, he spent little time in the chateau. Although he got along with the others who so faithfully served Melissa, he actually had little in common with them.

Maurice enjoyed his freedom, and enjoyed taking care of the expensive automobiles. This was his hobby. He also liked reading books on automobiles and all other kinds of vehicles, fast moving and otherwise.

He was presently lying comfortably in bed, perusing an automotive magazine. Suddenly, he heard Melissa's wild scream from the chateau.

He leaped up from his reading. Could she be in trouble? As he listened, he heard a second scream and suddenly recognized the sound for what it was. Mrs. Staunton was in the throes of a violent orgasm. Maurice scratched his head. "God," he said softly, almost under his breath. He hadn't expected the kid (as he thought of Stephenson) would work so fast.

Maurice lay back down on his comfortable bed and continued to read his magazine. He imagined the cars were his own. He thought that if he could really own cars like these, then the most beautiful women in the world would throw themselves at his feet. He took his cock out of his pants as he dreamed. Yes, he could drive into towns all along the coast in these cars, and women would run to him, impressed, wanting him.

He would choose the most beautiful woman, the one with the fullest, most luscious breasts and longest legs. He would take her into his car and fuck her in the front seat. She would straddle him, naked, her back pressing into the steering wheel while he manipulated her up and down over his cock, squeezing her breasts and her hips. He slicked his hand with his saliva and began to rub his cock more furiously while thinking of beautiful, nameless women.

He came, and in his mind, he was coming inside of the beautiful, hazy faced woman's full, heavy-scented cunt. In his dream, he drove deeply into her and exploded, though in reality his cock was pulsing against his own fingers and palm.

George, who was lying in bed with Madam Andre in her separate apartment in the chateau, also heard the wild scream coming from Mrs. Staunton's sitting room. He tapped the naked woman on her shoulder.

"Ah, Cherie," he said, "the boy is making Madam happy, yes?"

"So it would appear, George," said Madam Andre, turning slightly so that the huge dildo, which was strapped around her waist, maintained its position. This huge instrument was buried completely inside George's bowels.

Madam Andre had been ass-fucking George since Maurice had driven Melissa and Steve to and from the opera in Monte Carlo.

As they lay there, they wondered what might be happening between their mistress and the new houseguest.

"You want me to pull it out, George?"

He shook his head. "No."

"But I've been fucking you over an hour. Aren't you ready to come?"

"No. Not yet. Keep going."

"But you've lost your erection," she said with a sad tone in her voice. Her fingers groped around in front of her, fingering his once- happy cock, which had now gone soft.

"Look," she said, rather harshly, "I've got things to do. Why don't you gather your strength and I'll come back in a little while? And make sure you're properly dressed next time. You know how I hate to see you in your shabby, everyday clothes." She laughed at this, and began to dress. All of George's protestations and pleading could not dissuade Madam Andre from leaving.

When she came back some three hours later, he greeted her at the door. She was pleased to see that he was properly dressed this time. He was wearing a woman's black corset with bone stays. On his head was a wig of long blond hair that reached his waist. He also wore shiny, black leather boots.