Personal maid in a country mansion

My name is Olga, I'm 27, a beautiful woman, and I've been married for three years. I'd like to tell you about my job as a personal maid at a huge country mansion. It pays very well, but I have to fulfill every request the owners make, even if it goes far beyond simple cleaning and maintenance. Last night, around 9:10 PM, I received a message from Kristina, Viktor Petrovich's young mistress. She wrote briefly: "Get ready and be in the master bedroom at 9:30 PM sharp." I realized that tonight would be another evening when Viktor Petrovich only wanted to watch and direct. I went down to my room in the mansion's service wing. I spent almost an hour in the shower: I washed my entire body, gave myself a deep enema, carefully shaved my genitals, generously applied cream to my skin, and liberally lubricated my anus and perineum. Then I put on my work uniform—a black maid's dress with a very low neckline, where my breasts were barely contained by the fabric, a short skirt that concealed almost nothing, and sheer stockings with lace trim. I pulled my hair back into a neat high ponytail. When I entered the bedroom, a fire was already burning in the fireplace, creating a soft glow. Viktor Petrovich, seventy-two, was sitting in a deep leather chair against the wall, his silk robe unbuttoned. Kristina, a slender, twenty-five-year-old brunette, lay completely naked on the huge bed, lazily stretching. "Come to the bed and begin massaging her body," Viktor Petrovich said immediately in his low, slightly hoarse voice. "Slowly, starting with her feet." I knelt at the edge of the bed and began kneading Christina's feet and calves, gradually moving up her thighs. She purred softly with pleasure. The master sat motionless, watching without looking away. "Now put your face between her legs. Work your tongue slowly and deeply," he commanded after a few minutes. I lay on my stomach, and Kristina spread her thighs wide. I pressed my mouth to her smooth pussy and began to thoroughly lick every fold, penetrating it with my tongue and circling her clitoris. She became wetter, and her breathing quickened. Viktor Petrovich leaned forward slightly in his chair. "Add fingers. Two. And don't stop with your tongue," he continued giving instructions. I obediently inserted two fingers and sped up my movements. Christina began to lift her hips to meet me. — Enough. Lie down on your back in the middle of the bed. Christina, sit on her face. I rolled over. Kristina immediately straddled my face, pressing her wet pussy right against my mouth. I continued to work my tongue vigorously, occasionally moving to her anus. It was hard to breathe, bukvoeb.run, my whole face quickly became covered in her juices. Viktor Petrovich stood up, came closer, and opened his robe. His penis was already slightly swollen, but not hard. “Keep caressing me with one hand, without breaking away from her,” he ordered. I reached out and began slowly stroking and squeezing his organ, while continuing to lick Christina. She soon began to tremble violently and came, squirting generously into my mouth and chin. Viktor Petrovich was breathing heavily. He pulled away and ordered: — Open your mouth wider. I opened the door. He brought his cock closer and began slowly thrusting it into my mouth, holding my hair. His movements were careful and shallow—he couldn't stay hard for long. After a couple of minutes, he tensed up and came—the sperm wasn't much, but it was thick. I swallowed every last drop. Then he relaxed and, without removing his penis, squirted a thin, warm stream directly into my mouth. I swallowed, trying not to wince—the taste was sharp and unpleasant. Kristina, meanwhile, was still sitting on my face, chuckling quietly. When it was all over, she got down and said lazily: - Lick me from behind for a couple more minutes so that I can completely relax. I turned around and continued to gently lick her anus until she sighed with satisfaction. Viktor Petrovich returned to his chair and simply watched with a satisfied smile. They let me go. That evening, they transferred thirty-two thousand rubles to my card. I went back to my room, changed, got in the car, and drove home. My husband was already asleep. I, of course, didn't tell him anything. We have a large mortgage on our apartment, and finding that kind of salary anywhere else is simply unrealistic. So I keep working.