When my wife went back to work and I decided to work from home, I thought it was going to be a good thing. It all started well; I had the house to myself during the day, and when she came home, we would spend quality time together.
Then came her promotion; the longer hours, and quality time ended up with me being a sleep by the time she wandered in. Adding to the struggle, my business started doing better, so keeping up with the house duties became more difficult.
My wife had the idea of finding a maid to help out around the house; she would do laundry, clean, and even help cook meals when I needed it.
Fortunately, the interview process was easy because my wife had a friend who used a particular service; however, we were warned that many of the workers were illegal immigrants, so we would have to be discreet.
About a week after our decision to find help, Mary showed up at the front door. I must admit though, I was not expecting Mary to be as young and attractive as she was.
When I opened the door, I was half expecting a 45 year old woman with a cranky disposition; instead, there was this early 20s vision of beauty with long brown hair, hazel eyes, an lovely girlish figure and a nervous smile that made me melt.
I knew from the previous warning that Mary understood English well, but was not very good at speaking it.
My wife was already at work, so it was up to me to get her situated with her duties and to show her around the house.
We were pretty well off, and the house was large, even though we used very little of it these days. Mary was mainly going to focus on cleaning and laundry as well as light upkeep of the rooms left vacant lately.
I was pleased that the tour went better than expected; Mary seemed to understand every word I said and after each instruction would simply reply with a shy smile and a “ Basey .”
My name is Basey, but the fact was that I loved the way she said it better.
As I finished the tour, I grabbed a bag that my wife had left on the kitchen counter for Mary; she said she thought I would enjoy the traditional idea of the maid outfit on our new girl.
The concept might not have been that great had I not seen how attractive our “new girl” actually was. I pulled out the little black and white outfit, that I was surprised seemed shorter than I had expect; I cannot begin to tell you how glad I was that Mary was not some 50 year old woman.
“I hope the outfit is okay Mary,” I said, handing it too her and pointing to the restroom off the kitchen for her to change in.
“Basey ,” was all she said as she disappeared to change.
About that time my phone rang; it was my wife Lizzy. “So how is Mary doing on her first day honey?” she asked, with almost a hint of flirtation in her voice. “I thought you’d enjoy a little eye candy around the house since we don’t get much quality time these days. Just try to behave yourself. She is a ‘LOOK ONLY’ employee.”
“I understand baby. She is easy on the eyes.” I replied, letting her know my approval.
“Is the skirt short enough for you; I picked it out myself after finding out what size Mary was. Again, I just wanted it short enough for you to enjoy the view.”
“I miss you these days baby. Thanks for the treat,” I said, just before she had to hang up for another call.
At that moment Mary walked into the kitchen looking absolutely amazing.
I had only noticed the black dress with the white collar when I looked in the bag. My wife had also added the customary white apron and the white knee-high stockings with the 2” black high heels; she had gone all out to give me a pleasant show.
Damn I loved that woman. I wanted to ask Mary to give me a little spin but decided that would be inappropriate; besides, I was already thinking of items for “dusting” that sat low throughout the house.
I could not wait to see this little beauty bend over a few times.
Since it was her first day, I decided to make us both some lunch before we both got to work.
Mary leaned against the counter listening as I muddled through some small talk while making hot ham and cheese sandwiches.
I grabbed a couple plates from the cabinet, pointing out in the process where all of the dishes were placed. I put a sandwich on each plate joined by a handful of Doritos and turned to head to the dining room table; but then I stopped.
I looked at the regular chairs around the table, and then noticed the high standing stools at the kitchen bar. The two tall stools faced each other and I knew would give me a great view of Mary legs. I slid one of the stools backward and encouraged her to hop up onto it.