Thread: A maid for Ms. Devilla Roche (Devilla Roche and IntoThe Mystic)

Though David was clearly was far more socially awkward and unaware than most men of his age and status, he wasn't totally naive. Even he knew if a woman all but invited herself up to his hotel room, excused herself so she could make herself more comfortable, instructed him to wait for her on his bed that there was at least some chance that she might have sexual intentions in mind. He wasn't sure if it was 10 or 90, but just knowing the was something higher than zero was enough to make him feel worlds out of his comfort zone. What occurred next though was so unanticipated, so unimaginable to David that his mind barely had the ability to grasp the notion that it was really happening. The sight of 'Deanna' standing provocatively in the doorway wearing nothing more than the most exquisite feminine lingerie he'd ever seen, her luxuriously soft fur seductively framing full breasts, and looking at him with a gaze that provoked a pitiful whimper from his lips was surreal. Ms. Jackson..... I..... I.........., he stammered, fidgeting nervously on the foot of the bed. His mindless babbles were silenced by her sultry voice that all but dripped with sex, David immediately quieting himself and listening as if being reprimanded by a school teacher. He watched her fingers at work on his tie, peeling it off of him as if he had absolutely no say in the matter. Though David did indeed have a brilliant mind it could not absorb and keep pace with the words he was hearing from her. Surely, this was a dream and not really happening?? And, oh god, she wasn't content with simply removing his tie. He sat motionless as if paralyzed, watching as his jacket was her next target, his eyes watching in disbelief as it landed on the floor as well. His eyes then though widened and he gasped incredulously as his shirt all but magically vanished from his chest, buttons flying, fabric tearing, and 'Deanna' looking like a woman on a mission. By now David was dazed and overwhelmed, finding himself the target of what seemed to be the sexual fury of the most intimidating, dominant women he could have ever imagined. With his bare, pale, nearly hairless chest now revealed to her gaze David looked at her with almost pleading eyes. He started to speak, M-Ms. Jackson.... oh my god..... w-what...., but before he could finish his thought he found himself being picked up and carried as if he were little more than a small child to her. He found himself lying on the bed, looking up at this gorgeous, seductive woman who had first taken control of his room with ease but had now clearly had her sights on taking control of him next. David's body was visibly trembling, and though he felt completely overwhelmed and unnerved by this unimaginable turn of events he also couldn't help but be aroused as well. David's fantasies were all haunted with women like this, confident, intimidating, sexually assertive women. They simultaneously made him feel weak and helpless, yet at the same time their sensual feminine female sexuality was like an irresistible aphrodisiac. Oh my god, Ms. Jackson.... D-Deanna..... I don't believe this...., he panted breathlessly as he watched her hands move to his belt. Oddly enough, even though he was clearly the center of this scene in a way he felt as if he were merely a bystander. Clearly, this was not a discussion. This was not a request. Deanna was not asking for his opinion nor what he wanted. She was simply taking what she wanted, and for god knows what reason... at the moment that seemed to be him. David was far from the most confident guy around women. He was well aware that physically he was a small guy. Truth be known, he was a small guy in all parts of his anatomy. And, if Deanna continued she would soon be clued in on that fact as well. Even with ordinary women David often felt self conscious and uncomfortable in bed with women, but with her? Oh my god. This was a woman who had the beauty, curves and size of a sexual goddess. He, on the other hand was a mere mortal male. And, a small embarrassingly petite one at that. The more David pondered what the outcome of this might be if she continued the more anxious and embarrassed he started to become. Though he sensed he had neither the strength nor the willpower to stop her David felt the need to at least try to preserve some sense of what little dignity he might now have left. In a weak, shaking voice he pleaded, M-Ms. Jackson.... Deanna..... you... are by far the most beautiful women I've ever seen... b-but... I don't think..... this is a good idea..... I r-really don't know if we should continue....