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“Just take your time, my dear, and try to pretend I’m not even in the room with you,” George Blackwell instructed the stunningly beautiful redhead with a slight chuckle. “I’ll simply be working in here for awhile.”
“Yes sir,” Nadalee Parker replied in a soft, shy voice, nodding sweetly as she bent down to dust a bookshelf a few feet away from where her new employer sat behind a huge mahogany desk, his intelligent but somehow disturbing gaze seeming to bore straight through the sheerness of her white maid’s uniform. She felt a cold shiver run through her, as though his eyes were stripping her bare, and the very fact of his assurance that she should pay no attention to him because he was “working,” made her feel all the more uncomfortable in his presence. For he was not working at all but only sitting there, almost leering at her, glancing up and down the length of her body with a strange sort of approving smile on his stern-featured face. Her hand trembled inadvertently as she swiped along the tops of the books with the feather-duster and she suddenly found herself unable to concentrate on what she was doing from one moment to the next.
Jesus, what an innocent, juicy young bitch! George thought to himself as he ogled his new maid’s lush, girlish figure. She was almost like a toy, a sexy little eighteen-year-old toy, with long copper-red hair and big fluttery emerald-green eyes. And man, he was glad now that he had allowed his wife, Dolores, to talk him into buying Nadalee the “uniform” she was wearing. It was a lacy blouse and a kind of little-girl pinafore with a tucked-in waist and a short skirt that accentuated every inch of the lovely girl’s body, from the deep cleavage showing between her large, firm, white breasts to the taper of her slender waist and the rounded outward curve of her luscious hips that sloped to her long full-swelling thighs and, lower, to her well-formed calves and ankles….
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.