Can I be your French Maid? Ch. 04 - Sex Stories

Can I be your French Maid? Ch. 04

... as she leaned forward, and pressed her body against the kitchen island, her breasts almost spilling out of her top. "Coffee, perhaps?"

My cheeks turned beet red and my eyes darted away. "Thank you," I said, politely. "I'd like that."

She smiled again, turned, filled a kettle with water, set it down on the stove and turned on the burner.

"It's actually pretty good. I brought it. It's organic. Do you often visit that coffee shop?" she asked.

"Ah... no," I replied.

"A shame. Besides, I think I would have remembered you had I seen you there before," she said with a sly smile.

I looked down. She would have. How often do you see a French maid in the wild? My apron had weathered the intense hour of cleaning unscathed. The bows were still untarnished, my push-up bra was perky, casting the illusion of breasts. From the waist down I was all legs, the hem of the short-sleeved dress barely covering my thigh-high stockings.

It was strange, but as I stared down at my French Maid's uniform, I couldn't imagine wearing anything else. Why would I?

The uniform was tailored to my exact measurements. It was quite literally made to be worn by me and me alone. Everything else I owned was generic, one size fits all. A lie! I, being rather tall and naturally thin, was the one size it excluded.

"By the way, thanks for collecting all the empties. I bet after I haul them in, we may cut even on this shoot."

"It's not your house?" I asked, confused.

"This? No," she ...

... laughed. "I wish. It's a rental."

"Oh," I replied.

"And to answer your next question, yes the owners are aware of what we're up to. In fact, the house is almost exclusively used to shoot in."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yup. There's about five properties in his neighborhood that are booked solid, months in advance. If you have a keen eye, you may have seen several of them shared between productions."

"And you shoot... pornos?" I asked, timidly.

"This is where I would normally say 'adult entertainment,' but to be honest I prefer calling it as it is. We film pornos. Top tier, the best quality. We're quite proud of that fact."

"I see," I said, as I looked around, remembering that an hour ago the first floor had looked like it had been hit by an atomic bomb. Had that been part of the shoot?

As if able to read my mind, she laughed and replied to the question I hadn't asked.

"No, that wasn't us."

As she spoke, the kettle whistled.

"Are you familiar with the popular influencer Sparkle E?" she asked as she turned and took the kettle off the burner.

I wasn't. I lived in a bubble, shielded from the endless whine of social media.

"I can't say I have," I replied.

"Google her," she said as she searched the cabinets.

I picked up my phone, loaded an internet browser and googled her name. It retrieved a horde of photos and short videos. The majority appeared to have been taken at a nightclub, concert or on the bow of a yacht. In all of them she was baring skin. ...