Andy was so excited to be getting on with his life, which, to him, meant getting back to work. Work was his favourite thing. If Andy were given the choice of winning the lottery or tidying the house, he would opt for tidying every time.
As he rinsed another clean dish and placed it on the drying rack, Andy sighed with satisfaction. His memories were still fuzzy, some having returned, others still just out of reach, but he remembered the day his parents decided to allow him to be the maid. They'd been looking for a maid for weeks, but no qualified people ever seemed to apply. He'd begged, he'd pleaded, but his parents would hear nothing of it. Of course, it was difficult to get his parents to focus on anything in those days, his mother so engrossed in NASCAR when she got back from the factory, his father working so many late hours as a receptionist at Leerings and Letch, the big law-firm downtown.
It had taken Andy showing up in his favourite maid's outfit (well, one of his favourites) and giving a demonstration of his talents that had finally convinced them. He'd started with cleaning, moved on to cooking, then finally the floor show. The brass pole in the living room had made the dancing easier, something to hold onto, something to grind against. And Andy did great! The house had been spotless, the dinner fantastic, and what self-respecting maid couldn't elicit a little bit (or a lot!) of arousal in his employer.
And employers they had become. The money was good, and since he was technically still living at home, Andy got to pocket every penny. It was the perfect arrangement. Sure, he saved some for the future, but he felt no guilt spending a bulk of his earnings on new maid's dresses, new feather dusters, stockings, make-up... they were, after all, business expenses.
Andy watched out of the corner of his eye as he saw his slut of a brother wiggling up the stairs. Probably heading up to find sluttier and sluttier outfits to head out in. David was always hitting clubs, getting drunk, and ending up in compromising situations. Racking another clean plate, Andy shook out his hair and grinned. David just didn't have the drive, the career mindedness that Andy had to make it in this world.
He pulled the plug from the sink and dried his hands. Still soft, his manicure was holding nicely. With a brief look at his reflection, and a glance at the clock, Andy excitedly noted that there was still time to spend some time teasing his mother as she watched TV. Maybe a little time in her lap, maybe a dance, maybe a full body massage. Elatedly he left the kitchen and headed to the living room, happy to know that a maid's work is never done.
