I walk out of a fresh shower, damp but not too wet. Grab a drink and enter my study to sit down by the fire to dry. A few moments passed by, my muscles relax, and the warmth begins to dry my body. She walks in the doorway, duster in hand, wearing a maid outfit with a short skirt and long stockings. “Do you want this room cleaned at the moment?” she asks, with an obvious ulterior motive. Being in a very relaxed state, I wave her in with a gentle nod and sip on my whiskey. She starts dusting, making sure to get up high and down low, making sure that I can see she isn’t wearing anything underneath.
She steps just out of my view, using one hand to dust and the other to feel herself, holding back a soft moan. I lazily turn to look at her, she removes her hand coyly, to feign innocence. I am still naked and she can see that I am no longer soft. It is growing but not fully hard. Her eyes widen with delight, only to turn quickly away as if that isn’t exactly what she wants.