The Hands That Lead

A hands on kind of leader…

TheDoctor

Saturday June 10, 2017

Cheryl tried to look nonchalant as she looked at the reflection of Tiffany in the knife.

She didn’t even really notice herself place the fork on her lip as she watched the blond fidget in place, waiting for her and her husband to finish dinner so she could clear the table.

‘God, how dumb does he think I am?  I mean he says he’s not banging her, but how could he resist?  Look at those lips and that sexy stare she’s giving him!’ she thought to herself as her own pussy moistened at the thought of her husband taking the maid over the furniture while she was cleaning.

“So honey, how was your day?” Craig asked from across the table snapping Cheryl out of her daydream.

“What?  Oh my day?  It was fine.” she managed to stutter out without dropping the knife but instead setting it back down on the table.

“And your trip to the city?”

“Yes, fine as well.  I mean the wait at the doctor’s office was interminable, but he is the best so I guess I have to put up with it.”  She set her fork down as well and then cupped her small breasts in her hands and hefted them up a bit.

“What do you think dear, the doctor recommended 450cc each to bring me up to a full C, but I think that might be a bit small.” she asked her husband as her nipples hardened.

‘No way I’m going to be smaller than the maid!’ she though as she watched her husband finish chewing before answering.

“Well honey, whatever you think is best.  You know I leave those kinds of things up to you.  Tiffany could you fetch us some more wine?”

“Of course Sir.” the maid responded and turned to walk back in to the kitchen.

Cheryl tilted the knife on the table just enough to catch a glimpse of Tiffany’s perfect rear end wiggle it’s way across the room.

“Yes, well, I think more is better.  I asked him about a few other procedures as well, buttock enhancement, lip injects, you know, just the basics.”

“Of course, anything you like.”

They finished dinner with some more small talk and then Tiffany cleared the plates.

“Thank you Tiffany, could you please now give Cheryl her desert?” he asked when she returned.

Cheryl licked her lips, she loved desert and as Tiffany walked over to her, she turned her chair to the side and spread her legs, exposing her moist pussy to the open air.

Tiffany knelt down and started to lovingly lick Cheryl’s pussy and Cheryl moaned as her tongue darted in and out of her.

Before she knew it, Craig’s dick was up beside her face, she turned her head and took his hard shaft between her bright red lips and started to suck as he held her head in both hands.

She let his cock slide in and out of her throat as she reveled in the pleasure coming from Tiffany’s tongue on her pussy until he finally held her firmly in place and came down her throat.  Her orgasm exploded and she gripped Tiffany with her thighs tightly as it washed over her.

* * *

Craig looked down at his wife’s eyes rolling back in to her head as his cum ran down her throat.  The doctor had been expensive but he’d done an exceptionally good job on her and Tiffany both.

Just a few weeks ago Cheryl had been ready to file for divorce when she’d found him fucking Tiffany in their bed, and Tiffany had been demanding he marry her as soon as the divorce was final.

Now of course, his wife’s only concern about Tiffany was how best to compete with her for his affections.  Of course, with Tiffany being younger and prettier, she now though that meant she had to become a fake plastic sex doll to make sure he continued to be interested in her.

Tiffany, for her part, was now the perfect submissive maid.  She knew her place in the world and it was below the likes of him and his wife, both figuratively and literally.  She found no greater joy than being on her knees, looking up at one or both of them with her mouth firmly around one of their sexes.

He doubted that either really recognized the fact that they strutted around the house half naked, that just seemed to be a happy side effect of whatever the Doctor had done to them.

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