When Trashy Met Classy
Day One
Elizabeth Vandemere woke up the next morning feeling somewhat disoriented. It took her a couple of seconds to realize that the noise she was hearing was the alarm clock next to her bed and even longer to realize how to make the stupid thing shut up. That having been accomplished, Elizabeth laid back on the bed only to have her eyes suddenly fly open. A peek under the covers was all it took to verify what she already suspected. She wasn’t wearing any clothes.
Where were her clothes, the young heiress wondered and just where the heck was she. She didn’t recognize this room.
Fortunately, there were some clothes that had been left out, left out and waiting, almost as if they were waiting for her to put them on. Elizabeth grabbed at the wispy underwear and pulled it up between her legs. There wasn’t much of it and what little there was barely covered the places that needed covering as she pulled it up between her cheeks. She grabbed at the bra but almost as quickly, she let it drop. Her breasts were young and firm and for some reason, she just didn’t see any need to encase them in cotton. In her rush to dress herself, she hardly paid any attention to the last garment that was lying out. All she knew was that it was black and satiny and when she pulled it onto her body, it was tight and short with the lower hem just barely covering her little, round bottom.
Elizabeth pulled the zipper up and rushed out of the room where she’d been sleeping. This was looking more familiar.
She found a young, black girl sitting in the breakfast nook, drinking some juice and munching on a croissant. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen or nineteen.
The black girl looked up as Elizabeth entered. “Aw, Lizzie,” she said, “I was beginning to wonder what had happened to you.”
“Sorry, ma’am. Must have overslept. It won’t happen again.”
Ma’am, Elizabeth thought. Where had that come from? She recognized this black girl. Her name was Charl ... Charl ... Her mind wouldn’t let her complete that thought. Her name was Miss Charlene. She was her employer.
Employer, the girl thought. That didn’t sound right. Didn’t she employ her. Wasn’t the black girl her maid. Elizabeth shook her head. That didn’t sound right, either. Maybe she was her employer. Yes, that did sound better. Miss Charlene was her employer. Yes, that did sound right.
“Well, I’m sure we can find a way for you to make it up, Lizzie,” the young black woman said. “In fact, I got a way that you can do that right now.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
There was that word again, and yet, this time, it sounded more right.
“Come on, Lizzie, let me see those cute, little titties of yours.”
It was only then that the white girl finally caught sight of herself in a mirror and what she saw made her jolt. She was wearing a maid’s uniform, a cute, little maid’s uniform, a sexy, little maid’s uniform. She looked hot. She liked the maid’s uniform, and yet, she couldn’t figure out why she was wearing a maid’s uniform. It was all so confusing and yet even without realizing what she was doing, she was pulling her tits from the uniform.
“That’s it, Lizzie. I love to see your little, white titties. Play with them for me.”
The girl couldn’t help herself. She stood there and played with her tits even as the black girl watched.
The black girl laughed. “Oh, Lizzie, you really are so good at playing with your tits, but you know, if you really want to make it up to me, there’s really only one way to do that.”
“Ma’am?”
The black girl smiled as she stood. She was wearing see-through negligee and sexy pair of bra and panties and nothing else. The black girl slipped the negligee from her shoulders and her fingers tapped the place between her legs. “If you really want to make it up to me, then you need to eat me here.”
The white girl stood staring at the other girl and then she was moving. Her hand pulled the panties down and then she was pushing the black girl back into her seat. Her hands pushed the other girl’s knees apart and then she was sliding in between her thighs.
“Oh yeah,” the other girl moaned, “that’s it, Lizzie. Eat me like that. Eat me right there.”
The girl kept right on eating that black pussy. She was sure she’d never eaten pussy before and she was surprised she was doing it now but her mistress seemed to like it and that was all that mattered.
Had she thought about it, she might have wondered why she’d thought of the word mistress but the truth was she was already too far gone to care. She had to get the black girl off. She had to taste the black girl’s cum.
And then she did. Her tongue lapped at that cunt as it filled her mouth with its delicious juices.
The White girl spent most of the rest of the day performing chores around the house. There were so many of those and she seemed utterly incapable of doing any of them right. She went to bed tired and unhappy.