1. Journal Entry: 1952


    Date: 1/18/2016, Categories: Fetish, Hardcore, Masturbation, Author: RaisinBran, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    The scent came back, stronger. I knew, then, that it was Cecile who was in the shower. Since that morning I have always woken up at the same time Cecile went into the bathroom to shower and waited at night for when she did it again. It was like clockwork. Sometimes, when the weather was unbearably hot, she would take a shower mid-afternoon, giving me an extra chance of reliving that morning when I had first smelled her. Beginning the day she came into my room to check on me, I started to take more notice of Cecile, which is ironic considering that when Mother hired her I paid no attention. To me she was just another maid: cleaned, cooked, washed clothes, kept out of the way and stayed quiet, or so I thought. I began to order my meals to be delivered personally to me by her, except for dinner when I had to eat with the f****y. No one questioned my particular request, for I was always the outsider of the f****y, the misunderstood, and possibly because of this no one took noticed. I loved it when Cecile was in my bedroom, so the scent of her could waft around me (no matter what time of day, she always carried that fragrance with her) and I could look at her, and often I would stall just to have her stay with me longer. She really was quite beautiful, the type of beauty one notices at second glance, which surprised me because Mother, knowing that Father often stays home, has always been wary of the all the maids’ appearance. Perhaps it was Cecile’s Oriental origins that made ...
    mother dismiss her, assuming her exoticness made her undesirable. As time went along Cecile’s visits to my bedroom became longer and more frequent. On occasion she would come on her own accord. She began to speak more freely, became less coy. Her favorite color was blue, she was the youngest of three, loved it when Father played the piano, but had a burning desire to learn how to play the violin, sometimes ate the g****s that were brought in from the orchid when no one was looking, was unmarried, partly educated, twenty-three years of age, born an orphan, have always dreamed of traveling to Paris, was doubtful there was a god, and was secretly taking care of a kitten she found on her way from the market. These tidbits of information about her and more I learned from our chats. I would begin to look forward to her visits because I learned more about her, fell that much deeper for her, and found myself agitated if for some reason she couldn’t arrive, and resentful when she had to leave. Then there was that smell. I couldn’t get enough of it. One evening, in late August, I brought a cup of water into my bedroom and dropped it on the floor. When I heard Cecile coming out of the bathroom, I came out of my bedroom, and told her what had happened. She was wearing the gray cotton robe mother had given her with the f****y’s logo (she gave one to all of her maids) and for the first time I could see her body, clearly defined. I can still remember seeing the thinness of the fabric against ...
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