Amily the personal maid-1

“The spare bedrooms don’t get used much?” she asked.

“Kids come to visit a couple times a year,” I muttered.

“I’ll mark them for every third visit. If you have company, call Tasha at the office, have her add an hour the visit before and after. No – sorry, you seem like a nice guy – the extra two hours is a money maker I’m supposed to up sell. Tell Tash that Amily said an extra ten minutes per room those visits. That’s really how long it takes. Save you a few bucks.”

I would gladly have paid whatever they charged if Amily would keep grinning at me like she was in that moment, her bright eyes dancing. My half hard cock surged to complete fullness. I ached to ask her to measure it as she held out the tape, swivelling to enter my bedroom.

“Is there an en suite in your room?” she asked over her shoulder. “Or a walk in closet or anything funky like that?”

My sick mind wanted me to ask Amily if she thought a trapeze over the bed was funky. Not that I had one. Sometimes my own imagination shocks me.