Domestic Help

He’d tried to ignore the changes in her body over the past several years, but recently she seemed determined – intentionally or not – to make that impossible.

Nineteen and looking for work, Emily definitely isn’t the little girl Shane Loughton used to know. The daughter of his old auto mechanic has blossomed into a beautiful young woman with curves that could drive any man crazy. He knows it’s perfectly normal for a young, curious teen to dress to catch a man’s eye, he just wishes that eye weren’t his …

Emily was ecstatic to be offered a few hours of work every week cleaning for Mr. Loughton. She’s always had a bit of a crush on the rich young entrepreneur and wonders in secret if he could ever feel the same.

Little does the curvy young woman realize how close to the flame she’s flying. The wealthy, well-hung older man is a lot more than Emily’s bargained for, and it seems only a matter of time before her innocent flirting pushes him beyond his limit.

Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, a mature man of the house and a young curvy maid, forbidden desires, unprotected first time sex, dominance and submissiveness. All characters are 18 or older.

Notice: These titles include themes and passages that have been adapted from the Sitter series by Jessica Whitethread with full consent of the original author.


Shane Loughton had had a long day, and it was well after ten o’clock when he pulled into the driveway of the big house on Wabash.

It was a lavish building – more space than they really needed, he sometimes thought. But since assuming CFO duties, the money came in so fast that it seemed a shame not to spend it on something his family could enjoy and take pride in. He was glad he had been able to find something so nice without going far from the old neighborhood.

It didn’t quite feel like home yet, but it would soon.

He saw the dark outline of a person move past one of the windows. He instantly felt his mood lift a bit, knowing that outline would be Emily, probably just finishing up a last round of cleaning on the second floor. He’d never voice it aloud, but she was as big a part as anything in his not wanting to transplant too far away. As much as he loved his boys, in a way he’d always think of her as just as much his daughter as they were his sons.

He’d been friends with her father since he first started taking his cars in to the old man for their service, when Shane had been just an ambitious college student with little in the world besides a fifteen year old Chevy Corvair that’d brought him from Lancaster county to the big city.

Since those days, success hadn’t come as easily to his old friend, but Shane had to hand it to him: he’d raised a hell of a daughter. Emily was an exceptionally sweet girl: warm, chipper, and helplessly cute. She always had a smile on her face, and it was impossible not to smile along with her.

Moving too far away to see her regularly would have been like estranging his own family. He was already smiling as he opened the door.

He stepped inside and felt his stomach clench. Emily had looked up from the vacuum cleaner in the living room beyond.

All the warm, innocent memories of her as a girl flew out of his head in an instant, replaced by a now all too familiar dread.

His little Emily stood up and made her way down the hall. He’d tried to ignore the changes in her body over the past several years, but recently she seemed determined – intentionally or not – to make that impossible.

She was dressed in a tank top and very, very short shorts. Her soft thighs rounded into a full ass as they disappeared under the tightly stretched denim. The tank top was loose and thin, and it was painfully obvious that she was wearing no bra beneath it. Her young, generous breasts were nestled against her folded arms, and their soft shape and nipples were perfectly visible even in the imperfect light that spilled out into the foyer. Her blonde hair was teased and tucked back into a partial pony-tail. He had hinted now and then that she needed to find herself a more appropriate work uniform, but he was uncomfortable pushing the issue.

She bounced slightly on the balls of her feet as she came over. “Hello, Mr. Loughton,” she beamed.

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