Amily the personal maid-2

Still she did not pursue the situation, turning back to her task.

“Can you get right down here and hold this so I can make a note?” Amily asked.

Silently, I complied, confusion flooding my brain, my cock softening a bit in response. Amily slid away from the bed. I could not see what she was doing, but guessed she was reaching for her clipboard. I fantasized about her hard nipples rubbing against her shirt, her tongue wet along her lower lip as she had her turn to admire my rump. Of course, I was not in anything like the shape Amily was, and I had no way of knowing whether she was checking me out. After she had not bothered to measure my obvious bulge, I had to wonder about her intentions.

“Okay, that’s done – but I still think we need to let the steam build up,” Amily said as she bounced to her feet. “Since you don’t have a chair up here, I guess we can sit on the bed for a few minutes. It does look like a comfy bed.”

Her dainty feet dangled off the edge of the bed, swaying in the air. I stood, watching her breathe. Her chest rose and fell, her nipples still hard against the fabric. It took me a moment to realize that her eyes were glued to my bulge. Her tongue flicked across her lower lip.