Chapter Text
Joy slid her key into the lock and turned it, half stepping, half falling through the doorway as she opened it. She closed and locked it behind her, dropping her purse to the ground with an audible thump. She leaned back against the door and sank to the ground, resting just for a moment.
It was a genuine relief to be home. She didn’t need to keep up her false smile and fake attitude. She could at last be herself once again.
As she sat there, she could hear things. Sounds coming from deeper in the house. Thumps and rattles as things bumped and grinded, accompanied by pants and gasps and moans. Most people probably wouldn’t have noticed, but her ear was tuned to such things.
A shiver crawled up her body, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Joy took a short gasp of breath and hopped to her feet. The chance to finally be herself again giving her a second wind.
She hopped to her feet and began stripping her clothes off. She was well practiced in this and was soon naked. She carefully folded her clothes and carried them with her. Just past the foyer was a cabinet. She put her day clothes within it and pulled out her uniform.
It was a traditional maid’s uniform. When she had first seen it, she had imagined it would have all the usual enhancements to make it sexier. It didn't, of course. It was, by all accounts, a formal and somewhat archaic maid’s uniform. All black and white with a long heavy skirt, long sleeves, and an apron on the front.
In retrospect, it made perfect sense. Joy didn’t need to look sexy. She needed to look the part.
She tied the apron on as she headed to the back of the house. The bumps and moans grew louder as she approached the source. She already knew what was making those noises. She had known for months. But she couldn’t help but blush as she reached the door to the master bedroom.
The blush only deepened when she opened the door. The room itself was so familiar the details hardly registered to Joy. She didn’t really see it anyway. The whole of her focus was taken by the bed and the people on it.
They were locked in coital bliss. The woman was on top, bouncing herself upon his shaft. He was meeting her with enthusiasm, hands on her wide hips, his hips thrusting up to meet hers with meaty slaps. They were moaning and gasping together, in the perfect rhythm only two people in true passion could be.
The sounds were familiar to Joy. They haunted her waking hours whether she could truly hear them or not. Her dreams were often filled with them as well. Endless love and passion she could see and hear and smell and almost taste. But not touch.
No, never touch.
She stood there watching them for some time. She was to never interrupt unless there was an emergency. It was common for them to be doing this when she returned home. She suspected they waited to see her car before they started. The thought alone made her wet.
Eventually, they noticed her standing there. The woman did first, seeming to catch Joy from the corner of her eye and then doing a fast double take. Joy suspected it was all for show. She knew Joy had been there all along. It’s why they did it on top of the sheets.
“Ah, Joy!” the woman said in surprise. She didn’t stop bouncing. “We should make you wear a bell.”
“Whatever you think is best, Miss Miriam,” Joy said, her face growing only hotter.
“Whatever is best because I think of it,” Miriam said with a confident smirk. Her eyes roamed Joy’s body and then narrowed as she spotted something. She suddenly dove forward and covered the man’s face in her big, perfect tits. To shield his eyes, naturally. “Why are you wearing that?” It was spoken in a demanding way with no small amount of venom.
Joy took a half step back. “Th-this is my uniform, Miss Miriam.”
“Not that,” Miriam said, annoyed. She cradled the man’s head into her bosom with one arm and pointed the other with an accusing finger at Joy. “That!”
Joy followed the pointed finger to her own. That’s when she realized the problem.
“S-sorry, Mistress!” Joy said, blushing more from embarrassment now. She slipped the iron wedding band off her finger and shoved it into a pocket. “I f-f-forgot!”
“Forgot, huh?” Miriam practically spat. “You better not forget ever again. Do you think he wants to be reminded he’s married to you?”
“N-no, Miss,” Joy said, looking at the floor in shame.
“I’m sorry about that, baby,” Miriam whispered softly, stroking the man’s dark hair. “Let me make it all better.”
She turned and glared at Joy. “Make yourself useful and go make dinner.”
“Yes, Miss Miriam,” Joy said. She looked at the floor and curtsied before turning and leaving. She barely took five steps before she heard them start fucking and moaning again.
She could still hear it as she entered the kitchen. It was small and plain, but fully functional. Joy opened the fridge and pondered what to make. The pork chops were closest to her, so she pulled them out and placed them on the table to warm up a little. She stared at the meat as she waited, hearing the sounds of more meat slapping through the walls.
She reached into her pocket and withdrew her ring. It was smooth to the touch and a dull, lifeless gray. She could have spent time polishing it, make it shine, but why bother polishing iron? It was cheaper than gold for a reason. And her money was better put towards keeping Miriam happy than on a mostly pointless bit of jewelry.
She was ashamed she had forgotten to take it off along with the rest of her ‘outside’ attire. He really didn’t need to remember he was, technically, married to her. He belonged to Miriam in every sense of the word. Save for a sham of a legal document so worthless it had long since been thrown away.
The only reason Joy even had the ring was for appearances sake. There would be all kinds of annoyances and problems if the way she was living ever came out, so she wore the ring when she was outside so people continued assuming she was a happily married woman.
Joy put the ring back in her pocket and began tending to the pork. She carefully seasoned it with salt and pepper and then put it in a freshly oiled pan. The meat sizzled as it cooked, turning golden brown from the heat. Once it was all properly cooked, she put the meat on a plate and next poured out apple cider into the pan. She kept the heat up and scraped all the bits of pork still stuck to the pan and then left the whole thing to simmer for a few minutes.
She set the table for two. Plates, napkins, knives and forks. She opened a can of corn and drained the excess water from it. She put the cooked pork chops on the plates and then returned to the stove. The cider was now a proper sauce. She turned off the heat and carried the pan to the table, where she spooned generous helpings of it over both slabs of meat. She added the corn next, rounding out the meal.
She was heading to the cabinets for glasses when she heard Miriam speak.
“Mmm, I could smell that all the way from the bedroom.”
Joy stopped and turned to look. Miriam was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. She was wearing a silk kimono and nothing else. Which Joy knew because said kimono was open at the front. Joy tried not to stare, but she couldn’t help herself. Miriam was beautiful. She had smooth, sunkissed skin, full and perky breasts, alluring hips, and an ass anyone would kill simply for the opportunity to touch.
“I bet there’s something that smells even better to you than that, though,” Miriam said, sauntering into the kitchen.
Joy stood frozen on the spot as she approached. Miriam closed the distance and held a finger under Joy’s nose. Joy knew the smell immediately. She was intimately familiar with it. Cum. Unconsciously, her lips parted and her tongue poked out, just a little.
“You want to taste him, don’t you?” Miriam asked, her tone soft, but mocking.
Joy gave a little nod, her head moving a fraction of an inch up and down. “Y-yes, Miss Miriam.”
“I bet just smelling him makes you wet,” Miriram said, wiggling her finger a little to waft more of the scent into Joy’s nose. “Makes you want to touch yourself.”
Joy nodded again, a bit more forcefully. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, trying to concentrate.
“Have you touched yourself?” Miriam asked.
Joy opened her eyes and shook her head emphatically. “N-no, Mistress!” she said a bit louder than she meant to, worried she was in trouble.
“Relax, I believe you. You made a mistake earlier, but I know you’re a good girl,” Miriam said in a soft, understanding tone. She patted Joy on the head like she was a particularly stupid dog. Most people would have found it soothing. It just made Joy anxious.
“What were you going to have for dinner?” Miriam asked.
Joy had to think for a moment. “Um… I-I was maybe going to reheat the lasagna from last week.”
“Hm, old lasagna,” Miriam let out a soft little laugh. “There’s something else I want to ask you.”
“Yes?” Joy said after a moment.
“I want to know if you’d be willing to make a trade.”
That perplexed Joy. What did she have that she hadn’t already given to Miriam? Her house, her husband, her income. Everything already belonged to Miriam, including the clothes on her back.
“I know you haven’t cum yet this week,” Miriam said.
Joy nodded. It was only Sunday. She tended to save her allotted one orgasm a week for Friday or even Saturday.
“Well, here’s my trade offer. You don’t cum this week and instead can eat some of his cum.”
Joy’s eyes widened and her heart jumped into her throat and her pussy clenched beneath her skirt.
“R-really?”
Miriam nodded. “Mm-hm. You can savor it all you want too.”
Joy barely heard that last part. She would have traded a month of orgasms for his cum.
“Yes yes yes yes yes!” Joy all but squealed, excitement buzzing through her body.
“I thought so,” Miriam said smugly.
She pulled her finger from under Joy’s nose. Joy expected her husband would appear just then. Maybe he would jerk off into her mouth. Or maybe he would even fuck it. Or Miriam would do it for him. She was good at that.
But he didn’t show. Instead, Miriam reached between her own legs. She smiled and moaned softly as she fingered herself. And then she pulled her fingers out and held them up for Joy to see. They were slick with Miriam’s juices and smeared with white. With cum. His cum.
Joy didn’t need to be told. She opened her mouth and let Miriam stuff her fingers inside. Miriam’s fingers were long and soft and smooth. They filled Joy’s mouth, pushed deep into it, made her gag a little. She clamped her lips on Miriam’s hand and sucked and licked and pulled everything off those perfect digits.
She could taste him. Joy could taste him again. Salty and bitter and perfect. She could taste Miriam too, of course. Sharp and tangy. The flavors paired perfectly. Like they were made for each other. Which Joy believed was true with all her heart.
Miriam let Joy suck and lick her fingers clean before extracting them. Joy was left with her mouth open, panting, a thin string of spit connecting her lips to Miriam’s hand. It was pooled in her mouth. Him. His taste. Joy was wet. So very wet. It was staining her uniform.
“Okay, you can go now,” Miriam said, patting Joy’s cheek with her hand.
Joy nodded and curtsied on legs that shook so much that she was shocked she didn’t fall over. She tried to leave the room in something slower than a run. But she stopped at the door, when Miriam spoke one last time.
“Oh, and Joy?”
Joy paused in the doorway and looked back.
Miriam smiled, like she was winning and getting away with it. Which she was.
“Don’t forget to swallow, sis.”