During a job as a deliveryman during the school holidays when I was 17, I met two old Americans in their sixties, wealthy, lovers of docile young twinks (see La Delivery). I heard no more about it and continued my studies completely normally. The following year I had a 16- year-old friend, Laurence C., blonde with green eyes and curvy, daughter of a film director living on Rue du Bac. I was 18 years old, I spent a lot of time with her and them in a particularly free environment for the time in terms of morals. One Sunday in May, the C. invited me to lunch in a restaurant on the Quai Voltaire...memories, memories... that's where my two Americans lived, but that would in no way have justified not accepting the invitation from the C. So here we are, all six of us seated at the table, the C. couple, their three daughters and me, when towards the end of the meal, I see the two Americans enter who spot me immediately, but, casually - this which I appreciate - they will sit at a table a little further away. Our meal ends, we get up and, leaving the last one from the restaurant as courtesy prompts me to do, the maître d' comes and slips a business card into my hand….a simple telephone number appears on it, nothing there. 'other...I obviously have no doubt as to its provenance. Back at my parents' house, I isolate myself and call the number on the card “Hello? It's you...I suspected you were going to call us quickly...you were a good little slut...that obviously hasn't changed. It's perfect. We have a job for you next summer. Could you come see us so that the three of us can discuss it if that would interest you?” I thanked my interlocutor, confirmed to him that I was already looking for a job for the summer but that I had not yet found anything that satisfied me and therefore made an appointment for a late afternoon the following week . So I show up at the appointed time on the landing of the apartment where I had already been three times the previous year. I ring. “Hi buddy!” Come on in! » said the one who had already come to open the previous times, dressed classically in canvas pants and a t-shirt. I follow him into the living room where his friend is, sitting in the same armchair as usual, dressed in black leather pants and ashirt. “We never introduced ourselves! This is Jack and I 'm David. And you, what's your name? » asks me the one who is still standing and whom I have just followed. “My name is Pierre,” I replied. “Good,” Jack said at that point. “We need a butler/driver this summer whose responsibilities will not be strictly limited to this role, as you can imagine since you know our little quirks…and you responded very kindly to them last year… » I obviously saw perfectly where he was coming from...I had served as their escort boy, in other words a little whore, when I came to their house to deliver two pairs of glasses. “How much time will you have available this summer? » “Approximately six weeks from July 1 to August 15” “No more? » “No because then I have to leave, just before the start of the school year, on vacation with my girlfriend” “The pretty little blonde slut with big breasts that we saw with you, I suppose? » “The blonde, yes, that’s it” “OK, I understand. Six weeks would already be better than nothing. You can imagine that this is a job that requires absolute discretion and total trust on both sides. This is one of the reasons why we thought of you, the others being in particular your physique and your skills. » “Thank you very much…” I perfectly understood what awaited me if I accepted. No need to ask for details of the job... Jack continued what David had started: “You would stay here. We have an independent bedroom and bathroom . So your accommodation and meals would be entirely our responsibility. On the other hand, during these six weeks, you would not have any days off and you would have to be at our entire and total disposal. In return for which you would receive remuneration net of social charges and taxes of X francs. Are you ok with all this? » The amount announced was truly exorbitant. So I suspected that the “work” was going to be varied and intense… My decision to resume my role as a little whore was quickly made, I admit with shame. “Understood, I understand… I trust you. But I need cover from my parents and my girlfriend…” “Of course, it’s also in our interest. This is why we will give you an employment contract as a butler/driver,now that you have your license, quite classic. The rest is agreed between us and will not appear anywhere. Trust and nothing else between us.” “Great! Let's celebrate! » David rang the bell and the same old servant who was there last year brought a bottle of champagne and some flutes, opened it and served us, staying behind to wait for the next request. “You know Yvonne. She has been our maid/ cook for around ten years. It's a grave. If she needs you to relieve her, you will obey her.” Jack then said: “Take her out, little slut, so we can see if she’s grown up!” » I complied obediently, taking my cock and balls out of my pants and briefs. “Nice!” It seems to me that she has gained weight…so much the better! We'll have fun. You will have appropriate service attire. What is your shoe size? » “42/43 I think” I packed up my equipment and took my leave. I was both delighted and worried about what I was going to have to do: I was returning to the role I had played three times, but on a larger scale, without a doubt! I also had to not let anyone, and especially not my friend Laurence, suppose my exact attributions. I had a few weeks to do him good before my job took over my life. So I set about this task conscientiously, taking advantage as much as possible of her big pointed breasts, her slobbering pussy topped with a superb blonde tuft (a real blonde, it's rare!) and an ass very narrow. She knew that for six weeks we would have little chance of seeing each other and, therefore, she stocked up on cock...A real little bitch, always in need, always wet, always ready to take...Tight ass and cunt, she squeezed my juices while being fucked very little: a treat! July 1st was a Saturday. I showed up with my little bundle at the home of my new friends and employers ...Yvonne opened the door for me, David and Jack being absent. Impassive face, always so strict outfit which in no way allowed one to guess her shape, she must have been around fifty years old. Preceding me, she showed me around the apartment then took me to my room. “These gentlemen will probably be back early in the evening. I have put on your bed the service uniforms that they gave me for you.”The latter were reduced to their simplest expression but, on Yvonne's indication, I knew that for the same evening I would only have to wear a tiny white apron and shoes with 14 cm heels which had been made made to measure at Ernest. “These gentlemen have asked me to suggest that you practice walking in these shoes, in case you are not used to them,” she added with a smirk… Alone in my room, I I put on - if I dare say - my outfit: the apron did not hide the whole of my cock at rest, that is to say the size of this accessory which was to serve as clothing, and the shoes were not simple to put on. Difficult - if not impossible - at first to stay standing! After twisting my ankles and falling a good number of times, at the end of the day I managed to walk very slowly, which gave me a perfectly ridiculous appearance, like a precious one of the same name! Around 6:30 p.m., Jack and David arrived and had Yvonne call me, whose look at my outfit left me in no doubt about her appreciation. “Hi Pierre, nice to see you! Great looking! » Jack said to me in the living room where he was already sitting. “This outfit looks great on you, my little slut” adds David. “Tonight, you will serve the table, it’s just the two of us, you’re lucky, to start your shift.” The dining room had a large glass table, each of them seated on one side. Yvonne served at the table. My role was to be under the table, sitting on their heels, and to suckle their knot in turn, with my hands behind my back, touchin ...

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