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Chapter 3 - Layla and Rose.
Rose had always been there. First, as Edward's housekeeper looking after him, and then, after he and Layla had married, as a trusted servant to them both. Soon after Layla had moved into the mansion she and Rose had become close friends rather than mistress and maid. Layla had lost both her parents at a young age, and since Rose was more than ten years her senior, it just seemed so natural for the older woman to assume the positions of care giver and confidant. Many mornings the two women would sit at the kitchen table, sharing a pot of tea and a chat. "
"Rose, I'm so lucky," Layla gushed one day as she sipped her tea. "Edward is the most wonderful man any woman could possibly hope for. I love him so much."
Rose simply smiled.
Many people assumed Layla had married the much older Edward for his money, but they had been wrong. Layla had been close to her late father, finding and falling in love with Edward filled a void she had lived with for a long time. Of course, she had known many men before her husband: younger men who had served to amuse and entertain her briefly. Younger men, who had none of the knowledge and experience of how to fully satisfy a woman's needs. Younger men, whom she had become bored her so very easily. Once Edward had shown her the true meaning of sensual pleasure, there had simply been no doubt in her mind that he was the one for her
When, after five years of blissful marriage, Edward had died suddenly of a massive heart attack in the arms of pretty young prostitute, it had been Rose who stood tall and supported Layla through the heartbreak. Of course Layla realized it wasn't Edwards fault. After all he was just a man, and men have their weaknesses. No, it was that wretched little whore who had seduced him – it was her fault – she was the cause of Edward's demise.
Late one evening, almost a year after her husband's death, Layla sat with Rose on the sofa wearing just her robe. She rested her head on her maid's lap and, sobbing softly, confided to her, "Rose, I will never let another man touch me. No man can ever replace my Edward."
Rose smiled and leaning down took Layla's hand and brushed it gently over her lips. At first, Layla had been surprised. Her maid had never shown her that kind of physical affection before, and so she immediately sat upright. Then, as Rose looked into her eyes and gently stroked the side of her face, she felt herself being drawn towards those strong and protective arms. It began with a comforting embrace then, as Rose let her fingers slip down under Layla's robe to caress her quivering breasts just like Edward used to, everything felt so natural.
"Open your legs, Layla. Yes, just like that. Do everything I tell you, and everything will be just fine," she whispered.
Layla sniffed back a tear, and laying back, she let her long slim legs drop open. Yes, Rose would fix everything. Rose would heal her hurt. Rose always knew what to do.
"There, now. Doesn't that feel nice?" Rose slid her long brown fingers up between Layla's creamy thighs, stroking them with her smooth and soothing hand.
Layla closed her eyes and mewed. It had been so long since she had been touched like that – so long since she had felt that sweet burning desire deep between her legs. She slid her body farther down the sofa, letting her robe fall open to expose her erect pink nipples. Rose cupped one hand over a pale breast, then, leaning down, she kissed it gently before sucking the hard nipple. Layla remained relaxed and compliant, and so Rose gingerly pulled the robe completely open, to gaze upon her mistress's lovely body. It was as if Rose was admiring a special present she had been waiting a long time to to unwrap. Smiling, she observed the fine brush of hair covering the sweet treasure. Yes, it was a fine gift in deed.
Rose had promised Edward she would always look after his wife, and she had every intention of keeping her word. She would care for Layla in every way, especially her precious pussy. Yes, that had to be protected. Rose saw the way men looked at her lovely mistress. Bastards! Even at the funeral, when they had hugged Layla and pretended to comfort her, Rose knew what they really wanted. Now, Rose would show her she didn't need a man's cock any more.
Rose ran her wet tongue over her upper lip then placed her hands on the inside of Layla's thighs to open her legs wider. She pressed her mouth down onto her mistress's soft petals and began to gently lap up her feminine wetness. Her nectar tasted just as Rose had always imagined it would – too good for any man in her mistress's life now. None of them would taste that sweetness if Rose had anything to do with it.
It had been a long time since Layla had felt such a heated womanly desire, and her body soon writhed and twisted but with a new kind of desire she had never experienced before. All her heartache and pain began to wash away, and she became thoroughly immersed in the sweet erotic pleasure that only a woman is capable of givng.
Gently, Rose lapped at her folds before sucking on her mistress's swollen clit. Within a short time, Layla cried out, and her whole body quivered with enjoyment she hadn't experienced since losing Edward. Raising her hips instinctively to meet the warm wetness of Rose's tongue and mouth, Layla climaxed long and hard in a rush of heated excitement. For several minutes afterwards, she lay there with her eyes closed while Rose watched her breasts rise and fall with each laboured breath. Soon, Layla drifted into an exhausted sleep. Rose smile and gently pulled a warm blanket up over her before retreating.
Rose never touched her mistress again, and they never discussed what had happened between them that evening. From then on, however, Layla grew strong and powerful in ways she could never have envisaged. She knew what she wanted now and, true to her word, she never let another man touch her again.
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