The maid's daughter (1)

Asha

My name is Asha, and I’m a pretty average girl. I have average-length hair, a normal-shaped head, and thank heavens my hairline is still intact despite my love for sleek ponytails. My face is nothing close to stunning beauty that would make people turn around and maybe hit a wall while looking at me. And, no, I am not ugly either. Although I am not short, I’m not too tall either. I’m part of a baseball team, so the regular practice has left me toned in the right places, but I admit I have a bit of a pouch in my lower belly that won’t go away, no matter how much I work out. So, I’m not anyone special, but more of an average girl who can blend into a crowd. I would have said I have an average sex life, but that changed 4 years ago.

Before that, I was a pretty good girl. I went to school on time, did my school work diligently, respected all my teachers, and made sure I did everything required of me perfectly. When I got home, I did my chores without complaining, not that I had reason to complain anyway. During my teenage years, I was the best teenager ever. I never drank, cursed, or even snuck out at night. And, you guessed right. I never had sex with anyone until I finished high school.

Why is that? I come from a very complicated background, but for the sake of time, I’ll simplify it for you. My mother came from a very conservative family, but she was the wild one. She did all the things you wouldn’t expect from such a family, like dying her hair, wearing bold clothing, and sneaking out at night to go God knows where. Well, until she turned eighteen and showed up pregnant with me. Apparently, her parents were too furious and kicked her out. My dad denied me, too, so Mom didn’t have a place to go.

One kind-hearted woman took her in and gave her a place to stay. The kind woman had a son named Spencer, who was almost ten by the time I was born. Since my mom did not have any means to support us, she offered to be the maid in that house so the kind woman would help take care of us financially. And so, just like that, I grew up in there as the maid’s daughter.

Spencer, being an only child, spent a lot of his time with me. His mom was mostly out on business trips or work matters, so it was usually him, my mom, and me. We had a complicated, but neat family, I could never find fault. He enjoyed taking care of me when my mom was busy with chores, and I loved his company. As I grew up, he taught me many other things, like bike riding, skating, and horseback riding, among other things.

When he joined the university, he moved out, and time became a little tight for both of us. We rarely saw each other. I was sad about not having enough time with him, so we created a weekend tradition where he would pick me up from school on Friday evenings. We would spend Saturdays together, and then he would take me back home on Sundays.

During these moments, we would engage in the most fun activities, such as playing board games, video games, and watching movies together. After the movies, we would sit and discuss the scenes, ranking our top favorites and our least favorites. We had a lot of fun and laughter as we talked, sometimes falling asleep on the couch because we talked until too late in the night. And when we weren’t in the mood for indoors, we would go out and skate, ride bikes, or literally anything else that we deemed fun.

This went on for years. Even as he graduated and started working, we still kept this tradition going. Our parents were happy that we were a close family and that our weekends always ended with the whole family having dinner together on Sundays. Everything was innocent until four years ago when I joined the university.

It was one of the regular weekends, and we had just returned from running adult errands, which consisted of grocery shopping and a bit of lazy strolls through the clothes section. Spencer had a job and earned a decent amount, so he took me out to get some clothes whenever I asked. Normally, I’d stop in the boy’s section, but today I wanted something different, so I dragged him with me to the women’s section. I got myself a few sets of matching underwear and some girly shorts and crop tops.

I was so eager to try on the new clothes that I ran into my room as soon as I arrived. My mom always insists on washing new clothing before wearing it, but although I didn’t have much time for washing, I still used my steamer to disinfect it. I guess investing in a teamer was indeed a great choice. Anyway, I put on a lilac pantie with a matching bra set. I had always regarded myself as a cute little girl, but the reflection in the mirror reminded me that I was no longer a young girl. I was turning into a fine young woman. That thought had heat rushing to my cheeks. I quickly put on a short yellow sundress and left the room.

Spencer was reheating pizza for us in the kitchen when I emerged, and I kid you not, his mouth dropped open when he saw me. It was the first time I had dressed like this. His eyes checked me out in a way he had never done before, and I could swear it was almost like how the boys in my class looked at me sometimes.

“Wow,” he finally found his voice after I snapped a finger at him.“You look… different.”

“Do you like it?” I asked, moving past him to grab our plates.

“Of course, I do,” he said, taking the pizza out of the microwave. He glanced at me one more time, and I caught him swallowing. He quickly averted his eyes, taking his focus back to the pizza. “Are we eating here or in the living room?”

“Nah, let’s eat here because I’m starving.” I picked a slice and took a big bite. Delicious. I love pizza with a good serving of cheese. He laughed and took his slice, but he still looked at me discreetly. I didn’t think much of it, thinking he was just liking my outfit or that I looked cool while eating. After my second slice, I announced cheerfully, “Then we’ll go watch that movie that came out this week.”

“Okay, a movie it is!” he replied with the same enthusiasm as me, except there was a little change in his voice. It was lower and a bit huskier than usual, but again, I didn’t think much of it. Well, until he touched my bare shoulder and I felt something different. Something like a warm fuzzy feeling that started where he touched me and settled deep in my stomach.

“Are you ready for a movie?” I asked, trying hard to distract myself from the sensations I feel whenever I look at him after that little incident. My heart pounded hard, and blood flowed more to my face, making me almost permanently tomato red. Fabulous.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” I nodded fast, “it’s quite hot today.”  I couldn’t tell him the real reason because I didn’t want him to think I was a pervert or something. I couldn’t afford to lose him. So, I settled in my usual spot like nothing happened and turned on the TV.

“If you say so,” he said, turning around and heading to the kitchen. “I’ll grab some drinks for us.”

He returned with a soda for me and a cocktail for himself. He sat beside me, and I started the movie. Halfway through, it turned out to be just a whole hype and nothing kind, but we had a tradition of never leaving whatever we watch unfinished.

Like I sometimes do, I scooted over and lay my head on his lap while my legs curled on the couch, but this time, my thoughts were completely pulled away from the movie. All I could think of was how close I was to his cock and how excited I got thinking about that. Would he ever want to see me again if he found out about my thoughts?