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

Can I be your French Maid? Ch. 04

... Low tank tops, skimpy skin tight dresses and bikinis. Every photo was a tease. I scrolled, half expecting to find one where she popped out of her top. Surprisingly, there were none. What did she have to do with a porno shoot?

"She's been teasing for weeks that she's ready to take her career to the next level. Go hardcore. Naturally she was swarmed, inundated with offers. After some tense negotiations, we emerged victorious," Valerie said as she set down a French press, scooped out some ground coffee from a small bag and dropped it in.

"Congratulations," I said.

She poured the boiling water into the French press. "Well, that remains to be seen. We booked her for two days. Yesterday she arrived with her crew and proceeded to trash the place. Girl knows how to party, I'll give her that."

She turned, searched through the cabinets again, pulled out two coffee cups and set them down.

"It only took them a few hours to wipe out all the alcohol we'd brought for the 'wrap party," she said using finger quotations.

"And what do we have to show for it? Nothing. She insisted she needed to be in the right headspace before she... well, before she gave head. It was literally what we had argued her contract down too. I suppose I can take some solace in the fact that I negotiated the most expensive blowjob... ever."

She sighed as she poured the coffee. "Honestly, I only have myself to blame. I gave her space, assuming, when she was ready, we would get down to business. ...

... When that failed, she promised us she'd be here bright and early in the morning. And here I am, standing with our hired maid service, checking my phone every five minutes, endlessly being spun around in circles by her agent."

She handed me a cup of coffee. "Sugar, milk?" she asked.

"One of each, please," I said politely.

She turned, pulled a carton of milk from the fridge and brought over a small bowl of sugar from beside the sink. I helped myself.

"They drank all the booze but didn't touch the coffee," she said and laughed. "Their loss, I suppose."

I smiled, took a sip of my coffee then checked my phone again. There was still no reply from my wife.

"What happens if she doesn't show?" I asked.

"Well," Valerie said and took a sip. "Then we'll sue the bitch."

"Oh," I replied. "I see."

"That's why I know she's going to show up. Influencers like her may play dumb online but they're smart enough to not expose themselves to possible legal litigation. It's expensive, eats up time and no one looks good under the harsh fluorescent lights of a courtroom."

She took another sip from her coffee cup, leaned forward and pressed her body against the kitchen island. Her breasts almost spilled out again. This time I didn't look. Still straight, I reminded myself.

"She'll be here. She's going to wander in, minutes before the contract is set to expire and give us the bare minimum of what she's required to do, then leave and collect a fat check. If I wasn't on the ...