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Andrews UK - Hollis Queens

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17 pages

English

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After a night of debauchery, party guests awaken with no clue as to the previous night's erotic events. Can Detective Scarlett and her young protege Yvette figure out who did what in the where before the guests go their separate ways?WARNING: This eBook contains graphic language of a sexual nature and should only be purchased by a mature, adult audience.

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Erotic literature

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Publié par	Andrews UK
Date de parution	25 mai 2021
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781789825343
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0050€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Fill in the Blanks
Hollis Queens

First published in 2021 by
House of Erotica
www.houseoferoticabooks.com
Digital edition converted and distributed by
Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
Copyright © 2021 Hollis Queens
The right of Hollis Queens to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Any person who does so may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

(Blank) Did It
Yvette Watts was dead, or rather she felt dead. After a full day of classes, she had spent the remainder of Friday night working for Waitress from the Waist Down at a large party at the Tudor Hill House. When her shift had ended, she had chosen a bedroom upstairs as far from the stairs as she could find, but the noise from below had kept her up until the early morning. She had managed a few hours of rest, but the light from the east facing window was currently filtering through her closed eyelids, preventing further sleep. Groaning, she blindly fumbled for her cell phone in the folds of the duvet.
11:35 am. She should get a taxi home and finish up her essay on hair follicle analysis for her forensic investigation class. It was due Monday. Then she remembered her client had paid extra for a breakfast service. “It’s the most money you’ve ever made,” she reminded herself. More groaning, she sat up and searched the floor for the frilled skirt that made up her uniform.
The black silk with lacy border encompassed a pair of frilly white knickers lying on the floor like someone had just stepped out of them. Yvette separated the two articles and slipped the pair on slowly. Bending at the waist, she stretched to her toes and completed a few yoga poses before slipping on the thigh-high stocking that had been piled closer to the door. The floor was cold to her nearly-bare feet, but she welcomed the refreshing chill.
She checked her uniform in a free standing mirror next to an antique armoire. Her hair had a just-fucked look complete with messy blond bun atop her head and lightly smeared day-old make-up. The late autumn chill had her pink, pert nipples standing at attention. Once she had slipped into her black pumps, she would be fit to head down and serve breakfast.
Tudor Hill House was a merge between the Victorian and the Gothic perched atop the highest peak in Dorset. Dr. Bobby Black, the owner, had hired the topless maid for a party he was hosting. This young plastic surgeon to the stars had requested a confidentiality contract be signed which aroused speculation about just what kind of party it was going to be. Yvette would have been the envy of every other maid and butler, but the owner of company had given her strict instructions to keep this job a secret.
Trying to remember last night, she couldn’t recall much in the way of scandal. The other guests were all successful and a few famous, but there had only been some seductive flirting after dinner. She thought it must have been a birthday celebration because of the ornate packages everyone had brought. Of course, given the noise after Yvette had dragged herself upstairs to bed, anything was possible.
Her full breasts bounced slightly as she descended the vast, mahogany stairs. All the doors upstairs had been shut, but she couldn’t recall hearing anyone come up last night. Wondering if all the company had left last night, she decided to look around downstairs before setting the table for departed guests. Trying to recall the layout of the mansion, the topless maid for the morning made her way to what she remembered as the library. Not the most logical place to look for sleeping people, but she thought she heard a moan from the cracked double doors.
A shapely, muscular bum greeted her as she peeked her head in. Dr. Bobby Black was face down on the Persian rug, completely nude.
“Uh, my ass,” he whined into the fibres. She remembered the approving look he had given her when she had changed into her costume before the guests had arrived. He had to be nearing forty and in excellent shape, but spending the night on the floor was not conducive to agility. As he began pushing himself to his knees, Yvette noticed a smooth ebony physique draped across the leather couch behind him.
As a criminology student at the local university, Yvette was practised at remembering names and faces. The woman awaking on the couch, skin as dark and flawless as the expensive leather, was Blanche Witt.. A good decade younger then Dr. Black, she sat up more deftly. Her head rolled in two complete circles, and then she leaned back into the cushioning having spent all her energy stretching. Yvette’s gaze dropped to the spread legs which exposed a cunt as smooth as the leather on which it was seated.
“What happened last night?” Blanche asked rubbing her wrists, first her right and then her left. Dr. Black shook his head before rising to his feet. His penis, even limp, was at least seven inches. Yvette knew she should have been embarrassed, but having a job where you were always topless changed your views on nudity.
“I don’t know. I don’t remember much after we opened the gifts. Oh fuck, my ass is killing me!” The doctor had tried to join his guest on the sofa, but had popped back up as soon as he sat.
Not wanting to appear to be spying, Yvette opened the doors fully. “May I bring you two some breakfast?” Her eyes dropped to the riding crop on the floor by the door. Her eyebrow rose slightly, but she said nothing and awaited their reply.
“Good Morning, Yvette. Do you know what time it is?” Dr. Black asked. He had one hand on his head and one on his aching posterior.
“Almost noon, Sir. Would you like me to put out the food and maybe some mimosas?”
He shook his head in the affirmative and straightened.

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