Page 66 of Maid in America

The slight lines around Mrs. Walton’s mouth struggled to twist upward into a Botox-deadened smile.

“My grades are slacking.”

She sashayed up to him in her own uniform short skirt, hand stroking his bare pec beneath the open neckline of his button-down.

“I’m in desperate need of some one-on-one tutoring.”

He chuckled, pulling her hand away from his chest. “Under different circumstances, this would be my lucky day, but sadly, this isn’t that kind of business.”

“Oh, come on. I paid for three hours ofdeepcleaning.” Mrs. Walton leaned forward, squeezing her tits together, giving him a generous flash of bra-less -- impeccable -- implants through the low neckline of her schoolgirl’s shirt.

His usual urge to fight an erection wasn’t there. Something sexy was happening, but his hard-on was nowhere to be found. It was certainly curious.

Before he could give it any more thought, she gestured to a plush leather couch next to a brown-and-white cowhide rug. “I won’t tell if you won’t, Professor.”

This was it. Fourteen-year-old Barrett’s dream.

Gettingpaidto fuck.

As the urge to leave strengthened, the pimple-faced teenager from his past beat against the inside of his skull, screaming, ‘Don’t be a fool!”

Walton was beautiful.Willing. She craved what he had to offer: No strings attached cock.

“I assure you,” she sat down on the couch, knees ever-so-slightly parting in his direction, “your tip will be more than generous.”

The immature Barrett wanted to make a joke abouthistip, a pun that would make her laugh until those silicone D-cups actually jiggled. But he held back. He wondered for a moment if this was a test from Will and Ava? A set-up. A sting operation to see if he would stay true to his word about not risking the reputation of their business to a prostitution scandal.

From the couch, her sapphire eyes combed over every inch of him with an appreciative gaze.

“If you’re having difficulties, I can promise that my grades won’t be theonlything I can get up with a little hard work and guidance.”

She winked. Her strawberry-colored lips were glossed, a thin sheen over a half-cocked grin.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mmmmmm,” she moaned.

“Why the Professor outfit?” He was eager to change the subject, waltzing back over to her windows to study the unbelievable view.

Mrs. Walton sighed at the momentary setback and leaned back into the couch. “I lost my virginity to my Women’s Studies teacher at UW at the time.”

Barrett smiled.There was always a reason.Somehow, Will had learned how to tap into those deeper desires of the women in Jackson and had curated an eclectic but effective arsenal of choices on the website’s drop-down menu.

“There is something so hot about a man in charge when you’re young and naive. We fucked like bunnies the entire semester.” She sighed. “I think about him all the time.”

Barrett turned in time to see the woman slowly popping the buttons of her shirt open. He cleared his throat.

“I’m afraid I really can’t.”

“Is it because I’m a student?” She grinned in character. “I promise, Professor, your wife will never find out. And I would never do anything to jeopardize your tenure at the school…”

“No,” Barrett said, wincing. “I’m not playing the role, Mrs. Walton. I’m telling you that I reallycan’t. No sex with the clients. It’s one of our cardinal rules atMan Maid, unfortunately. So that makes this,” he said, gesturing between them, “a no-fly zone. I’m so sorry.”

With a sigh, her shoulders slumped. “Well, this is embarrassing.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she turned away. “God, I’m so pathetic.”

“No! Not at all.” He waved away her words in the air. “You’re gorgeous and adventurous. If this were any other situation, we’d bedestroyingthat fucking cowhide rug right now. But I really like this job. I get to meet people like you and see places like this.” He motioned around him. “I don’t want to jeopardize that.”

His mind flashed to Chastity.

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