It was nearly a year ago when I first met her. I had arrived in this city around a month ago with my son after being laid off from a hotel in my hometown, where I used to work as a housekeeper.

I was desperately looking for a job when a woman working at a salon told me about a woman who ran some sort of employment agency. So I went to meet her.

After interviewing me for more than 20 minutes, she told me that the only job available was that of a maid at a woman’s house whose name was Rosemary. Since I had no other option, I said yes.

The next morning, I took a bus, subway, and then walked to the address she had given me. It was a 20-plus-story building with a glass façade and black and gold doors. When I pressed the buzzer, a woman answered and told me to come to the 18th floor.

“Hello,” she greeted me and introduced herself as she opened the apartment door.

She was wearing black pants and a white shirt under a black coat.

“Sit down,” Rosemary said, gesturing toward a very expensive-looking brown sofa.

Her walk had grace, she spoke with an upper-class accent, and everything in her house whispered old money. It was apparent that she was born with a golden spoon.

As she applied makeup and put on her stilettos, she fired a rapid round of questions ranging from my childhood to my son to my work. She told me all the terms and conditions and said she’d call my references and let me know. Five days later, I received her call, and she asked me to come to work the next day.

From that day onwards, I began working in her apartment every day, but it wasn’t until the next week that I saw her again.

I was cleaning the kitchen when a 50-something man came out of her room. He gave a sheepish smile when he saw me and tiptoed out of the house. A little, Rosemary emerged. As she sat down on the couch, her short nightgown loosely tightened with a belt parted, revealing the top part of her braless chest.

“Do you like working here, Molly?” Rosemary asked as she took out a cigarette from a silver box and crossed her tanned thighs.

“Yes.”

“Good. I want you to be here full-time, from morning to evening. I’m expecting lots of visitors, so I need help. Don’t worry, I’ll pay you well.”

With my son, Jim, starting school, rent and other expenses, I obviously needed the money, so I immediately agreed.

With that, I became a permanent fixture.

I soon noticed two things: she had a small group of friends, three males and two females, and all of them were very close. I saw them several times hugging, kissing, and touching each other all over the apartment.

One morning, I had been working there for four months, and I saw Rosemary come out of her room, followed by her friend Chris and his wife Susan. Rosemary was making coffee next to me in the kitchen when Chris came and, hugging her from behind, pressed the front part of his body against her back.

“I want it with milk,” he said, cupping her buxom chest over the top.

“Will soon get you fresh milk, I promise. Now get that butter,” she replied as she tilted her head and kissed his neck.

“OK, your highness,” Chris said, running his hands over her bare thighs.

Susan, who was also in her 50s and on the heavy side like her husband, was sitting on the couch in shorts and a top with a cigarette dangling from her fingers.

“I hope Rose isn’t giving you too much trouble,” she said to me.

“No, of course not,” I replied.

After breakfast, both Chris and Susan went home. When I was done cleaning the house, Rosemary called me into the bedroom and, pointing toward a bundle of notes on the coffee table, told me to take it.

“Go buy clothes. You’re always wearing these same jeans.”

“No, it’s OK. I have other clothes.”

“Don’t argue,” she said and went into the bathroom.

Truth be told, she was already paying me nearly double the amount she had initially said. Plus, I could eat or drink whatever I wanted. So I didn’t want to take the money, but her voice told me that she wouldn’t hear no.

Around three days later, she pointed out that I was still wearing the old clothes. I replied that I didn’t get the time to go shopping, though the fact was that I wanted to spend the money on daily expenses.

“OK. Let’s do the shopping now.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. You can do the rest of the work later.”

She took me to one of those high-end stores that I would have never even dreamed of going to. Inside, there were rows of extremely beautiful but very expensive clothes. A sales assistant, who immediately recognized Rosemary, came toward us, and Rosemary told her to help me select whatever I wanted.

“Buy whatever you want for yourself and for your kid; I’ll be back in an hour.”

I didn’t want to buy anything, as even a top was worth more than all my clothes, but the assistant kept pushing me. The imposing store, the beautiful clothes, and the wine she kept giving me made me so nervous that I just said yes to whatever she suggested. In the end, I picked clothes for Jim and a couple of jeans, tops, and skirts for me.

When Rosemary returned, she asked me what I had bought.

“This is how you do shopping? What’s wrong with you? Come with me.”

She took me to the shoe aisle and made me buy two pairs of shoes, and then back to the clothes section where she selected a couple of tank tops, really short skirts, and gowns. Then she picked out a strapless brown dress and told me to try it on.

I went to the fitting room and put it on. I saw that, though beautiful, it was exposing half of my cleavage and was just covering my inner thighs. When I looked in the mirror, I could see each and every curve of my body.

“Wow! You look gorgeous,” Rosemary said, peeking inside the fitting room.

Coming near me, her face was directly opposite my chest as she was shorter compared to my 5’8” height. She gripped the sides of the dress with her fingers and pulled it slightly down.

“There you go.”

“It’s too short,” I whispered.

“No, it’s not. It’s perfect,” she replied as she stepped back a little and looked at me from all angles.

Taking my hand, she dragged me to the lingerie section where she selected bras and panties, including some lace and racy ones, for me.

Then, just as I turned to go to the fitting room to take off the dress, she asked me where I was going.

“To change.”

“No, you aren’t. Let’s go. Tamara and Smith are waiting at their place.”

Tamara and Smith were part of the close-knit group. She hurried me to her car. Inside the vehicle, she took out a pearl necklace from her bag and put it on me.

When Smith saw me, he let out a loud whistle and said, “Who’s this beautiful creature?”

“You’re looking amazing,” Tamara said as she came near me and looked at my 38-year-old body from head to toe.

“And she didn’t want to wear it,” Rosemary added.

With their eyes on me, I should have felt embarrassed, but instead, a shiver ran down my spine. Somebody was appreciating me after many years – and it felt really good.

Putting her hands on me, Tamara turned me around, and they inspected my back.

“Well, she’s got a great caboose,” Smith said, handing each of us a glass of wine.

We stayed there for more than 30 minutes, and I enjoyed each second of it as they admired my body from every angle, including my half-naked cleavage and bare thighs.

“Come on, I’ll drop you home,” Rosemary said when we were back in the car.

“No, I’ll take the bus, don’t worry.”

“Don’t be stupid. You’re drunk.”

That was true. After so much wine, I was a bit drunk. But even then, I didn’t want her to drop me off at home, partly because my house was nothing compared to hers, and since it was a Sunday, Jim would be home, and I didn’t want him to see me like this. However, there was no getting out of it.

I opened the door and went in with Rosemary. Jim came out of the room and stood there watching me with no expression on his face, and said nothing.

“Aren’t you going say hello?” Rosemary asked, breaking the pin-drop silence.

He greeted her, but his eyes stayed on me.

“So this is where you live?” she said as she looked around the one-room apartment. There wasn’t much to look around, to be honest, as there was just an old couch in the living room, where Jim slept, and a cupboard and a TV. In the bedroom, there was a bed and a cupboard. Apart from that, there was a small kitchen and even a smaller bathroom.

“Quit staring at your mom and get ready, as we are going out for lunch,” Rosemary ordered, giving him the shopping bags that I had put on the floor.

He quickly darted his eyes away from the body and took the bags.

I knew from his red cheeks that he was surprised to see me dressed like that, especially as he had always seen me dress prudishly. Given my new boldness, I wasn’t surprised that he was staring at my chest and legs so much.

“Are we going out for lunch?” I asked, somewhat surprised as I didn’t expect that.

“Yes. Jim, are you going to change your clothes or not?”

Putting the shopping bags on the table, I began taking out his clothes, fully aware that I was now bending down and giving Jim a much better view of my voluptuous breasts. As he stood there and looked at my boobs, I picked out a shirt and jeans.

Taking the clothes, he went to the bathroom.

“He’s a big boy. How old is he?” Rosemary asked as she sat down on the couch.

“Seventeen.”

“He doesn’t look 17.”

“Yes, he’s big,” I said.

When I said that, she raised her eyebrow and smiled. I simply shook my head as I obviously didn’t mean that. Jim came out in his new clothes, and off we went to the restaurant.

When Rosemary went to the ladies’ room, I said, “Stop looking at me like that.”

“You are looking weird,” he remarked.

“Shut up! Eat your food. Do you like your new clothes?”

“Yes,” he replied without looking at me.

“Did you buy them?”

“She did.”

“They are great. But why are you wearing this?” he asked, pointing at my half-naked chest with his eyes.

Instead of replying, I took a sip of the wine she had ordered.

During lunch, she asked Jim lots of questions about his school, girls, and hometown.

By the time we returned from the restaurant, I was totally drunk. Rosemary and Jim held me by my arms and gently laid me down on the bed.

“Take off her shoes,” I heard her say to him.

Then she rolled me over and began unzipping my dress. Though I could hear her and was also aware that Jim was there while she was undressing me, I didn’t have the strength to say anything.

“Get some top or something, she ordered as she buried my face into her chest and took off the dress, leaving only my bra and panties on.

“OK, now help me put it on,” she said, taking the shirt from him.

He placed his arms around my stomach from behind, with his face touching the bare skin of my shoulder, and helped her.

Rosemary got up from the bed and left the house after telling him to button up my shirt.

He sat down opposite me and began to button it up, but I told him to leave it and, rolling over to my side, went to sleep.

When I woke up, he was sitting on the couch listening to music on headphones.

“Please get me that medicine for the headache from the cabinet,” I said without getting up or buttoning up my shirt.

When he brought the medicine with a glass of water, I sat up and, pulling the shirt together, swallowed the pill. A little later, I went to take a shower while he went downstairs to get Chinese food.

Three or four days later, I was at Rosemary’s place cleaning the house when she called me from the bathroom.

“Today, my daughter and her husband have come with their baby, and my shoulders are hurting. Could you please massage them?” she was sitting in her huge hot tub, completely naked.

On the first day, during the interview, I had mentioned that I used to give massages to my late husband, but I didn’t expect her to ask me. Now I was in a bind.

I sat down on the edge of the tub and slowly started rubbing her shoulders. I also noticed that she had a thick bush down there, and though not as big as mine, her breasts were a handful.

As the water caressed her brown nipples, the door opened, and in walked a woman wearing a top and pajamas.

“Is he sleeping?” Rosemary asked.

“Yes, finally.”

“Molly, meet my daughter, Anna.”

“Your clothes will get wet,” Anna said as she took off her top, revealing a perky and round pair of boobs.

She was in her late 20s, and her sharp features, height, and walk were very much like her mother’s.

“Yes, get in and massage me properly,” Rosemary said in her sharp, matron-like voice.

I was a little hesitant, but also knew that my clothes would get wet, so I took everything off and quickly got into the tub and hid behind Rosemary’s back.

“So, how are things with the baby?”

“Oh! Don’t ask,” Anna replied as she got into it butt naked.

“I haven’t slept properly in days. All he does is cry, and all I do is feed him. Richard’s also becoming cranky.”

“Well, I’m sure he’s becoming cranky for another reason,” Rosemary said.

“Yeah, but I’m too tired for that.”

“How long has it been?”

“Months,” Anna replied.

It was then that I noticed that she was clean-shaven. But I immediately shifted my eyes as I didn’t want her to catch me looking at her.

“Poor Richard.”

“Why poor Richard?” I heard a voice as a man walked in. I intuitively hid myself as much as I could behind Rosemary and began praying that he wouldn’t see me.

“Your wife was just now telling me that you haven’t seen action in months.”

“That’s true. Who’s she?” Richard asked, pointing at me with his eyes.

“She’s the one I told you about. She’s not only hardworking but also gives a good massage.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic. I’d love a massage,” he replied, taking off his shorts and T-shirt.

So now not only was I naked in front of a strange man, but a mother-in-law was naked in front of her son-in-law, a daughter in front of her mother, and a son-in-law in front of his mother-in-law.