60 -TV SERIALS, SANDY THOMAS ADVERTISING "A"

CHAPTER SEVEN

I'D HAD A VERY GOOD NIGHT'S SLEEP, HAVING GONE TO BED LONG before Miss Cindy had arrived home. I got up around 8:30 and noticed it was going to be the first real summer day in New York. The forecast was for sunny, breezy and 80 degrees.

After my breakfast, I showered and dressed in the pale pink taffeta morning uniform Miss Cindy liked me in on weekend mornings. I tied on a starched white pinafore and puttered around in the kitchen for awhile. I always thought I looked a little like Alice in Wonderland in my pink morning uniform!

Just after 10:00 AM, I carefully stole a look into Miss Cindy's bedroom. The rich girl had kicked off her covers and was sprawled across the huge bed sleeping soundly on her tummy. Quietly creeping in, I pulled the top sheet up over my mistress so she wouldn't catch cold.

I couldn't help but notice Miss Cindy's new outfit. It was really neat! She wore a sheer, baby blue taffeta top fashioned like a short jean jacket and snug, matching taffeta short-shorts. It was just like Miss Cindy to be ahead of the fashion pack, even in sleepwear. I'd never seen it before she must have gone shopping last evening or something.

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I hesitated with the sheet for a moment, looking with sudden lust at how the sheer taffeta hugged Cindy's perfect rear and how the cute top nipped in at her slim, feminine waist. Forgetting myself, I rubbed myself for a moment through my tight panties and gaff finding only a smooth, flat girlish "V". With intense frustration, I stared at Miss Cindy's sexy, taffeta-clad behind. Of course, I didn't dare touch the rich, spoiled model. After all, I was her servant. And, in her eyes at least, a completely effeminate sissy as well.

I'm sure I made a strange sight standing in Miss Cindy's bedroom with my hand probing up under my maid's dress. If she had caught me doing that she would have killed me!

I softly closed the door without waking my mistress. I took a few deep breaths and calmed down and went about my housework, delaying anything that might be noisy enough to wake my tired young employer. She must have stayed out late last night.

I took it easy for awhile, knowing I'd have plenty to do once Miss Cindy woke up. I drifted around doing a little

MAID IN FORM "A" -61

dusting and even sat for a moment in the living room and looked at Miss Cindy's fashion magazines.

"Cissie, ,... CISSIE!” Miss Cindy yelled from her bed around noon.

I hurried into my mistress' room and took a strange pleasure in saying "Good morning, Miss," very cheerfully as I curtsied respectfully to the cranky, sleepy model.

"I need coffee now!" Cindy said with annoyance as she rubbed her sleep-filled eyes.

"Yes, Miss," I answered meekly, scurrying off to the kitchen.

I served Miss Cindy coffee, juice, and pastries in bed. As she dined off her breakfast tray, I busied myself picking up her underwear and clothes, which were scattered carelessly all over the floor. My manicured nails made my fingers look exceptionally long. I was to keep a coat of polish on them at all time so that I wouldn't catch any of the fine fabrics of Cindy's finery.

The pretty silk blouse, the tight red skirt, and Miss Cindy's matching ivory lace bra and Brazilian-cut panties would unfortunately all have to be laundered by hand.

When Miss Cindy's room was straightened, I brought in a basket of the model's freshly laundered lingerie from the laundry.

Carefully folding everything, I put it away in Cindy's big lacquered dressers remembering how each intimate garment felt when I had to try them on for fit. Miss Cindy, propped up against her plump pillows, watched my activity from the luxury of her silk-sheeted bed.

"I see you laundered my underthings for me last night, Sissy-Pants," Cindy mentioned casually, sipping her tea and suppressing a sleepy yawn. (Miss Cindy sometimes she called me "Sissy-Pants," using it almost as a term of endearment. But of course, it always made me blush like crazy.)

"Yes, Miss," I said as I glanced at how the patch pockets of Miss Cindy's sheer, jacket-styled top deflected over her bare breasts.

"Tell me, do you like washing my lingerie for me?" Miss Cindy asked curiously. "Tell me the truth, now Cissie," she added quickly, with a piercing glare into my eyes.

I blushed and hesitated before I stammered, “Y-yes, Miss."