"You'realready disguised as a woman and wearing women's clothes all the time.Why is a maid's dress any worse?" I'm not a maid, I'm a cleaning lady," I...insisted.My wife laughed. "What the hell's the difference?" A maid is a servant. She has to do everything her mistress says.She's servile, submissive, at her employer's beck and call. Acleaning lady is a freelance contractor. She's a professional,engaged to provide specific services for a predetermined number ofbillable hours - just like a. .. I'll wear them to the fair for you." I thought I wouldshoot off right there.I was more than happy to do what she wanted.Beth sat up on her desk directly across from the bed. "Well," she said, "you better start doing it before Mom and Dad wake up andwalk in on us."I slipped my hands under either side of the waistband andremoved my shorts, stepping out of them and throwing them to thefloor. I sat down on her bed and with one hand I began to slowlystroke the length of my cock. With the. "I did see her. I picked her up from her house. She was looking out for me and was by the car before I could get out.It was the first time she had been in our house, and she was welcomed royally. The other two males in the family could not take their eyes off her.Later, we walked out to my car where Lorraine, who was the designated driver at her own insistence, was already sitting ready to drive her home.Nicola smiled and sighed with satisfaction, "Kevin, I had a great time. I really felt at. “Can you please come by on Saturday afternoon and help me repair the front door?” your familiar voice asked. Without hesitation I accepted. It would be easy with my family out of town for a few days. No one would miss me and no harm would be done. “I’ll make it worth your while” then “dinner is included” was quickly added to clarify your offer. “Wonderful, I could use a good home cooked meal.” It was all set. The week passed slowly as if Saturday would never come. When I arrived, the sun was.