The Dirty Virgin

By: Cassandra Dee

“No more scrubbing dishes … no more dirty laundry … no more bowing down … because I’m the boss now!” she squealed.

And I had to laugh too because my mom has had it hard as a maid, most people don’t realize the abuse she puts up with from employers. It goes beyond the pale, I’ve got so many stories of the horrible things that have happened, the insults, the mental abuse, the fact that she was dirt to them. So if it was true that Mr. Markham had asked her to marry him, then I was happy for her.

“Okay, when will the wedding take place then?” I asked, still a little wary. Good news didn’t come our way very often and it wouldn’t be surprising if the engagement dragged on forever, just to be broken off in the end. Clearly, we hadn’t had a lot of luck in our lives so far.

But Lorena surprised me again.

“This weekend,” she trilled happily. “We’re just going to have a civil ceremony because you know, this isn’t the most traditional of relationships. So get ready baby, because we’re moving across the railroad tracks to the good side of town!”

And I laughed suddenly, breathless. Lorena’s happy mood was contagious and I felt elated, dizzy almost with the possibilities. After all, her new hubby had unlimited resources, we wouldn’t have to scrimp, save, and work our fingers to the bone in the hopes of a square meal. I hoped against hope that it wasn’t just a dream and that this new guy, Drake Markham, was going to be our savior.



Damn, the little girl was getting to be like her mother. Not in looks, but in attitude and behavior. Lorena and Cleo are about as different in looks as you can get. Lorena is all sultry dark hair, curves busting everywhere, sly, smoldering looks at the most inappropriate of times. Of course I’d noticed her in that housecleaning outfit. She’d hemmed the skirt until it was just inches below her puss and bent over all the time, flashing her ass, making sure that I saw her wet cunny because she purposefully didn’t wear underwear. Vacuuming was never so provocative.

And if you’re wondering why I didn’t report her to her agency for her “unprofessional behavior,” it’s because I was a horny bachelor, a forty-five year old guy who worked all the time. My real “wife,” as you’d call it, is my company, News Enterprises, and there’s no woman who can come between us.

So Lorena was a nice distraction, someone that I didn’t have to wine and dine, pay attention to, or even properly date. I just took what I wanted, when I wanted, at my convenience.

And it’d worked out well … too well. Lorena understood exactly what I needed and never whined about the situation, instead accepting her place, accepting the fact that there was no wine, no flowers, no nothing. There was no pillow talk or typical dating stuff – she was a means for physical release only and she knew it.

But the woman was wilier than I gave her credit for. I got so accustomed to the situation, so set in my ways, that she persuaded me to marry her. Can you believe it? Drake Markham, powerful billionaire, married to his former housecleaner. But the woman was stealthy.

“Mr. Markham,” she said one night when my cock was still buried in her twat in the aftermath of sex, my breathing still fast and hard, right when I was the most vulnerable. “Wouldn’t it be nice to be married? Wouldn’t you like to have me exclusive to you?”

What the fuck? She was sleeping around? With who, Carlos the pool boy? Stokes the butler? What the fuck?

“No sir, I’m not sleeping around, I promise,” she said, looking at me sultrily from under her lashes. “I’m just saying … other men are interested too, you know. Maybe I want to get married,” she hinted darkly

And so I’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book. I couldn’t stand the thought of someone else’s dick in her vagina and so I signed away my freedom, making it legal in a civil ceremony the next weekend. Fuck fuck fuck! Looking back, I have no idea why I was so fucking impulsive, I should have gone on a two-month trip to the North Pole before acting.

But what’s done is done, and I’m fucking married now. Not that it was so terrible at first. Lorena and her daughter moved into the Big House, Lorena into a suite right next to mine and she was initially attentive and supplicating, offering herself at every chance.

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