Maid's Desire (1)
Roseanne had been cleaning the Nicholson's home for fifteen years, and at forty-five, she had never known a moment when she wasn't content. Their children were well-mannered, excelling in school and dominant in their social circles, and they all treated Roseanne with the utmost respect. She was paid handsomely, and her own children's college tuition had been directly taken care of by the Nicholson family. She had no reason to be vindictive like many of the other maids in the Hills, and had recently committed to being an au pair since her own children were off to their dormitories. She had no husband, never married, and considered herself a single mother.
Romance had always been pushed to a later time and date for Roseanne, so most of her free time was spent with her family or with the one whom she worked for.
It was during spring break that the Nicholson's eldest son, Braden, came home. It was his first time being back in two years, as he and his friends had a house off-campus that he typically stayed in, even during holidays. Most of his college mates had chosen to go to Miami, but with Mr. Nicholson's bi-annual charity gala so close to that time, Braden was coerced out of going with them. Roseanne had seen Braden in passing since he was five years old, and it had been difficult for her and his family to say goodbye to him when he went off to Stanford.
His arrival meant lots of exaggerated preparations, a roast chicken dinner with five of Braden's favorite side dishes, and freshly baked blueberry pie, also his favorite. Roseanne had helped the cook the entire day, and by the time that Braden arrived her cheeks were flushed and her clothes were sticky with sweat.
She made to go upstairs and change, but Braden's charming smile awaited her in the grand foyer.
"Rose!" He shouted, his baritone voice stopped her in her tracks, and she hardly had a chance to collect herself before the 6'4" college junior had swept her off her feet and into a full-bodied hug. He smelled of rich musk and cardamom, and Rose smiled at the fact that he was wearing cologne as she had suggested so many times before.
"It's good to see you, young man," She teased as he set her back down on the floor.
"I missed you the most," he professed jokingly, one of his broad hands skirted the underside of Roseanne's chin affectionately. She was just preparing to ask him about his studies when his mother came down the tiered staircase.
"Braden, honey!" Mindy Nicholson pulled her son into her petite arms and lovingly kissed both of his cheeks. "Every time I see you, you get bigger!" It was true, Roseanne agreed; in two years, Braden's once-wiry frame had filled out, and his brown hair had grown to be long enough that he had to tuck it behind his ears.
"I think that's your imagination, Mom," Braden quipped, gently removing his mother's hands from his tresses. "Not quite," Roseanne remarked, "You're growing up to be quite the looker, Braden." Mindy smiled in agreement, but Braden visibly paused at Roseanne's compliment. His muted blue eyes looked the au pair up and down subtly, before saying, "And you look exactly as I remember, Rose."
Roseanne had no clue what the twenty-year-old meant by saying such a thing, but she was perfectly content with maintaining that he was as innocent as he had been at the time of his departure.
"Shall we sit down and eat? Your father will be running behind tonight but I'm sure Rose wouldn't mind eating with us."
Roseanne couldn't object to that request. Typically, the Nicholsons always allowed her to eat from their food supply or even to cook for herself if she wished, but she often ate alone for fear of imposing. Even after over a decade of housekeeping for them, she was still somewhat wary of staying in her place. However, with such a blatant invitation and the event of Braden's arrival itself, she was inclined to sit at the table.
The cook had set the table per Rose's instruction, and dinner went by relatively quick. Braden's father, Eric Nicholson, arrived around the time that the pie was being served, and the conversation turned over to Braden's involvement in his fraternity.
"It's not as if we bullshit all day, but we do like to have a little fun--" Braden looked over at his mom sheepishly, but still finished his sentence, "--with some of the girls from the neighboring sorority."
"Braden!" Eric scolded laughingly, "We have a lady at the table," he gestured toward Roseanne, earning a light smack on the arm from his wife who sat beside him.
Roseanne swallowed her own shock at Braden's revelation. She knew that college wasn't exactly a nunnery, but to hear him reference sex so brazenly was unlike the Braden she knew. It wasn't her place to object, though, not with his parents' acceptance being so evident. So, she continued to observe.
____________________
She truly was exactly as Braden remembered. She still wore her dirty blonde hair in a bun at the base of her neck, and dressed modestly in a long skirt and always, always a white button-up. She used to drive Braden crazy with the fact that she never allowed even one button of her blouse to remain unsnapped. Even so, her way of dressing didn't hide her voluptuous breasts from him, nor did the globes of her spectacularly round ass get lost in the swaths of her skirt. Since he was thirteen, Roseanne had been the object of his desires.
He still recalled the time that he accidentally walked in on her using the restroom. She had just finished and was fully bent over to pull her underwear up when he entered before apologizing profusely and slamming the door shut.
Flashing images of her peachy, dimpled bottom and the alluringly pink pussy that naturally jutted out had plagued his dreams for years afterward. His first time having sex, he had imagined it was Roseanne, had even called out her name at one point and gotten away with it.
Being back at home brought forth a lot of those lustful memories, and he caught himself looking in Roseanne's direction more often than not. He noticed that in the process of sharing his college escapades that her expressions maneuvered between shock and disapproval before settling into a mask of complacency.
When dinner was over and his parents headed up to bed, claiming that they had an early start the next day, it was Braden who stayed to help Roseanne clear off the table and wrap the leftovers. One thing about Roseanne: she always wrapped the leftovers even though the Nicholsons never ate them; fresh food was cooked every day and yesterday's meal was often Roseanne's preference, or fed to the family dogs-- Bella and Trix.
