The maids were frozen.
Petra — the head maid — stood with a towel in her hands, her eyes wide, her mouth open. She was watching her mistress get fucked against a wall. Not gently. Not lovingly. Brutally. The kind of fucking that she had never seen, never experienced, never imagined. Her husband — the carpenter, five inches, two minutes, then sleep — had never done anything like this. No man she had ever heard of had done anything like this.
'That cock — it's going in her — her ass. All of it. All twelve inches. How — the human body can't — it shouldn't—'
Her hand had moved. She didn't notice. Her fingers were pressed against the fabric of her apron, against her own crotch, the pressure unconscious, the body responding to the visual and auditory stimulation before the mind could intervene.
