Chapter 22

The Andrews and the Jensons were in the dining room within minutes of each other, as Reeves announced breakfast was being served. It was then that John learned just how interesting Jeanine’s standard uniform could be. Black high heels, black stockings, and an almost nonexistent French Maid uniform caused Anita’s eyes to pop. When Jeanine bent over to serve him pancakes, her breasts popped out of the low-cut top, almost hitting John in the eye, and when she bent to serve Caroline, he stared open-mouthed at the naked blonde bush seen between her legs.

John continued to follow her with his eyes as she returned to the kitchen, earning a sharp kick from Anita. Turning back to the table he was greeted with smiles from the Jensons and an icy glare from his wife.

“Holy shit!”

At this, everyone laughed, even Anita, kicking him a second time.

Red-faced, John stated, “Quite the outfit. Anita, want to be a maid?” This time he managed to avoid Anita’s foot.

Still chuckling, Malcolm said, “Jeanine is an excellent maid, if not quite a maiden. I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to take care of any needs you two come up with.”

“Yes, and of course you have full kitchen privileges, as well,” finished Caroline.

Unfamiliar with the term, Anita stared blankly, but John remembered it from his fraternity days. “What? ... You mean? ... This I gotta see!” While his wife watched in confusion, John stood and stuck his head through the swinging door to the kitchen. Phoebe’s costume was considerably simpler then Jeanine’s - white high heeled pumps and an apron, nothing else. The apron was loose enough up top to see almost all her ample breasts and gaped open in the back to show both ass cheeks and the valley between them. After a minute of unabashed staring John returned to his seat.

“What, John? What was it?” asked Anita.

“Go look for yourself!”

Anita confusedly went to the door and looked in. The Jensons grinned at her audible inhale and double take. Phoebe further shocked Anita by turning to face her and lifting the front of the apron to show her naked gash. Flush-faced, Anita returned silently to her seat.

“I think I’m buying you a new apron when we get home,” commented John smugly.

Anita let this jibe pass, simply saying, “Holy shit is right.”

Over the remainder of breakfast, Malcolm and Caroline explained the true operation of the household to Anita, much as Malcolm had explained to John the previous night. “As I mentioned to your husband last night, I suppose we run a rather liberated home,” he said.

By this time, Anita had gotten used to the dress code. “Does all this apply only to the women, or do Reeves and Tony provide special services as well?”

Malcolm replied dryly, “Oh, they’ll be more than happy to take care of any little thing that needs tending. They can pop up at your slightest desire. Although they won’t be able to help your husband. It seems they have no interest whatsoever in servicing our gentlemen guests.”

John blanched slightly. “That won’t be a problem, Malcolm, rest assured.”

Caroline then said, “If any needs arise, Anita, Phoebe and I would love to satisfy them, if you want.”

“Oh,” said a wide-eyed Anita. “I’ve never thought of that before.”

“Well, if you do, just let somebody know.”

By the time breakfast was over, Tony had wandered through to announce that he had brought the car around to the front, and that it was still running to warm up. With that said, Caroline and Anita stood to freshen up while John and Malcolm lingered over their coffee. Anita returned to her room and touched up her hair and makeup, then stopped in the hallway to check on the girls. Neither had yet woken up and come downstairs.

Cracking the door, Anita was able to peer in on Cory. The shy and timid daughter seemed anything but. The covers were half off her naked form, lying face down, one bare leg sticking out from the quilt. As Anita pushed the door open to inspect further, she heard snoring from behind the door. Looking around the edge of the door, Anita was astonished at Laurie’s condition. As was her wont, Laurie had kicked the sheets off completely. Now she lay sprawled out on the bed, stark naked, legs splayed out. Her breasts heaved with her snores; her pert nipples erect. Her sparse but dark pubic hair was stiff and spiky with dry cum, and more shone dully on her belly and breasts. Anita knew that if she were to roll Cory over, her condition would be the same. The pair had not gone to sleep right away last night and had partied until the wee hours.

Shaken, Anita silently closed the door and shook her head. It was obvious that Tony could not have provided all the services last night, and Malcolm and John had been occupied, so Reeves must have helped. John? What was she thinking, she thought to herself? Why would she have thought their father would have been screwing them?

By the time she got to the foyer, Anita had composed herself, and accepted her coat from her husband. Neither Tony nor Reeves were around to be questioned, which was a good thing. While John knew that the girls were now sexually active, it still was early for whole-hearted acceptance on his part, or hers for that matter. She remained silent on the subject, just saying the twins were still sleeping.