Back in the bedroom, she lay back on the bed, but I remained standing just drinking in the wonder of her. From the spread of her coal black hair, surrounding the classically beautiful face, over the perfectly formed shoulders and bosom, which even in her prone position pointed invitingly upwards, the marvellous indent of her waist flowing out to the curvaceous hips, the black triangle of hair, through which I could just make out the hint of a luscious cleft, and then the thighs, smooth, elegant. All over she was perfection.She wriggled uncomfortably, and half turned on her side which only served to accentuate her curves. “Please, don't stare at me like that."As I knelt on the bed, she was staring at my lower parts and she smiled that shy, yet sensuous smile, "If I'd been asked what part of a man is purple, I'd have said none. Are all men purple, like that, at the end?"I lay beside her laughing, "I don't know. I haven't see all men down there."She laughed delightedly and then we were. ...she instructed me to hand-wash all her delicates, butmostly left me alone.Then the doorbell rang. I looked to her, hoping she would not have meanswer it. She merely nodded and I walked nervously to the door,wondering who it might be. I opened it to her boyfriend, the co-pilotfrom my flight to America. He'd seen me then in a flight attendant'suniform, but this just cracked him up. He burst into laughter at thesight of Pippa's maid as I curtsied and brushed by me.They retired to the bedroom and I thought I was going to escape withoutfurther humiliation. But just as my shift was nearly over Pippa calledout and I was summoned to the bedroom.I was instructed to remove my maid's uniform. Then I was to stand andwatch in my panties, bra, suspenders, stockings and heels as they hadsex. Even in the throes of passion, Pippa kept looking at me, smiling,occasionally winking. She was playing with him, like she was playing withme. Unknowing to the co-pilot, she grinned at me as she faked her.
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