All of the following is complete and total fiction. Not a word of it occurred, nor would it.
Starring Taylor Swift
The click clack sound of stiletto heels heels on hardwood flooring filled the room as Taylor Swift entered the room. She scanned the ornate receiving room. It was a wonderland for the posh guests of her Boss, Mr. Stewart. Wonderfully crafted tables, exquisite and lush couches and chairs, expensive paintings and delicious-smelling flowers in priceless vases filled the spacious room.
Today however, there would be no guests. That would be for tomorrow. No, today she was giving it a good last cleaning. Most of the heavy duty things were done with. The floors waxed, fresh flowers all with a half a tablet of aspirin in the water to keep them as fresh as can be, and all the tables cleaned to a perfectly stunning sheen, the deep browns of the wood almost as reflective as the mirror she found herself in front of.
Being in front of the mirror, Taylor couldn't help but indulge in a bit of vanity, looking herself over in the mirror, running her hands over her tight, form fitting maid's uniform. The black dress with white trim fit her so well it was like she was poured into it. The low cut of the dress showing off her milky cleavage and her long, blonde hair framing her face and mixing wonderfully with the stark black of the dress made the top half absolutely irresistible.
The bottom half wasn't too bad either. Her red lips spread in a smile as she admired her toned and shapely legs in black fishnet stocking, the ruffled skirt of the dress coming up to mid though, right wear the stockings came up to. And all finished off with six inch black stiletto heels, shined to a sheen even more reflective than the tables and floor.
Taylor couldn't help but admire how it all looked. It was perfect. Her self-admiration was interrupted by the ding-dong of the grandfather clock in the room. It was now ten in the morning. Time to get to work.
She lightly dusted the wooden surfaces of the room's furniture, the white and black feathers of the tool getting any small flecks of dust off the well shined material.
Taylor slowly made her way across the room, being meticulous. The Stewarts expected perfection and she always aimed to please. Soon though, Taylor got to her one weakness, Mr. Stewart's cabinet of spirits. It was filled with all sorts of delightful alcohols. Gin, vodka, and Taylor's favorite, Bourbon.
Taylor reached for the decanter and a glass. Usually she would have her flask with her, but had forgotten it before arriving at the Stewart residence. This might actually be easier. All she would be taking is a little sip, not taking enough to fill a flask. Besides, the Stewarts never caught her before. And they had the money so it wouldn't matter if she got a little bit of her favorite every now and again.
She poured a double into the glass, once for now and one for when she was finished. She smiled before taking the first sip. The familiar burn and taste gave her a delightful little tingle up her spine before setting the glass down to continue with her work.
Taylor had bent over to dust an endtable near the windows, a vase right in the center of the expensive piece of furniture. She delicately navigated the duster around the glass vase, trying to clean as best she could without knocking over the expensive glass container.
"Why hello there Ms. Swift," Mr. Stewart said, surprising the blonde maid.
"Mon dieu!" she shouted in shock. She spun around to see him, but in doing so her duster knocked over the vase. But Taylor acted fast, diving to grab the vase. She succeeded, but the water and flowers had already spilled. "I am sorry Monsieur Stewart. You startled me!"
"Well, in that case I'm sorry Taylor," the older man smiled, making Taylor blush a little. "Nothing to worry about. It was just water. It'll dry up."
"Merci." She replied, getting back to her feet. "Would you like to be alone monsieur? I can leave ze room."
"That won't be necessary Taylor," he said, giving her butterflies as he used her first name. "Just came in to check on the room. Big party tomorrow, you know."
"Oui. I have been helping in ze kitchen as well. But I was just doing a last minute dusting in the room. Does it please you monsieur?"
Mr. Stewart moved from the doorway to the coffee table running his finger over it and looking at the tip. "Looks fine to me." Of course as he said this his eyes roamed over the body of his maid. "Please continue."
She nodded at him with a smile. She returned the vase to it's place, lying the flowers right next to it. She took out a towel she had tied around a loop in her dress and began to clear up the water, then moved on to a desk in the room.
Mr. Stewart headed to the bar, watching Taylor, smiling a bit as she bent over in front of him, showing him her ass, covered in a wonderful pair of black satin panties. He also reached for his Bourbon... but his hand hit the glass Taylor had been using. He grabbed it and looked at the lipstick Mark. He couldn't help but grin.
"Ms Swift," he said. "Would you like to explain this?"
Taylor turned around and her blue eyes went wide with shock. "Je suis désolé Monsieur Stewart!"
"This is expensive stuff Taylor. Pappy Van Winkle aged thirty years doesn't just pop out of thin air. Have you been doing this for a while? Sneaking drinks from my private reserve? Developed a taste."
"It won't happen again sir," she said, looking at the ground. "I just have a fondness for ze Bourbon. Ze burn is magnefique."
"Well, that's all well and good, but it doesn't put it back in the bottle, now does it?"
"No monsieur, it does not."
