Marie had wished all the chores done earlier, so they had nothing to do but sit and chat until the kids - even Marie's former seventeen-year-old brother Matt was at least six years younger than them now - got home. "We're old now," Marie commented, and Antoinette nodded.
"We are. Twenty-three or twenty-four, what do you think?" she asked. Marie just shrugged.
"I suppose it doesn't matter, not really. The children should be home any moment now," she said. "I should welcome them." Antoinette sighed at this, but Marie smiled. "It is part of my job now."
With that, she got up, noticing the swinging, mincing steps she took in the heels. A whistle from behind her let her know that Antoinette noticed as well, and she giggled, "Oh, stop." The third trek down the stairs was far easier than the first two, and just as she hit the bottom step, the front door opened and Matt came in.
"Just who I wanted to see," he said, beaming. "You're looking as beautiful as ever today, Marie."
She blushed as a shy smile crept across her face. "You are too kind, monsieur. Too, too kind." An electric rush ran through her as she watched him cross the living room, and as he leaned down to kiss her; she was still shorter even in her stiletto heels. She let him, melting into it, knowing that she should not kiss back. It was only part of her job, despite the maddening feelings it brought for the boy who was once her older brother.
"Come on, let's go up to my room," Matt said, taking her hand and leading her upstairs to a room past hers, on the opposite side of the hall. It was different than what little she remembered. The posters of half-naked women were gone, replaced with things that made Marie blush; photos of her, in many different poses, some innocent, some suggestive, some downright erotic. There was even one picture of her pleasuring herself, looking blissfully ahead at nothing in particular. She looked at Matt, wondering what to do, whether to strip or not. He replied not with words, but by unzipping his pants, gently taking hold of her head and guiding it down.
Marie closed her eyes and let muscle memory do the work, knowing by the moans of the boy in front of her that she was doing well. Soon enough, she felt him begin to spasm, and at the last moment he pulled out and she felt hot, sticky splashes across her face. She gasped, beginning to wipe off her face with a hand until Matt yelled "No!" Kneeling there, she blushed, waiting patiently for a word. "You can open your eyes now," he said, and the moment she did she was blinded by the bright flash of a camera. "Now my friends will have to believe me. Thanks a lot, Marie. You can wash off now."
She smiled a forced, cheery smile. "Merci, monsieur," and before she could stop herself she continued, "But if they did not believe you, you needed only to ask me. I would suck them all." Horrified at what she just said, Marie rose, but was only able to smile kindly.
"That's... very nice of you," he smiled back, and she knew it was fake, only to comfort a slut. "But I don't want to share you. I wanna keep something as lovely as you all to myself."
Her smile became just a little more real, and as she left she said "Of course. I am sorry." She walked the short distance back to her room, to Antoinette still sitting there, collapsed into her arms and cried.
