EroticReverie

It was the summer before my senior year and my parents were doing extensive remodeling and making additions to our home.

It had started in spring while I was away at school in Mon-fucking-tana. Let’s just say my freshman and sophomore year, I was not what one would call a “good girl”. To be fair though I wasn’t nearly as bad as other rich bitches my age. Okay, well, maybe I was, but I tried to explain to my parents it’s just what teenagers do. All of us were drinking, all of us were doing drugs, all of us were having sex. Lots of it too.

If I really wanted to dig myself a hole which could’ve extended my stay in Montana  with my grandparents , I could’ve been honest and told my parents they should have expected an unsupervised teenage girl to go off the rails a bit. Maybe they should be home more. Maybe they should have given a shit before my party lifestyle became public knowledge and gained them a tainted image.

I begged for them not to send me away , but I hate to admit it. It was the most responsible parenting thing they’d done in my entire 17 years. While I was away, where I was, I didn’t know anyone. I didn’t know where to get the drugs that were always so available to my friends and I. I didn’t know anyone who could get me alcohol. I’d been sent to my grandparents without a fucking dime. They didn’t want me having any resources that might allow to buy the things that got me into trouble. The only thing they couldn’t prevent or keep from me was my body. That’s the only thing that didn’t change while I was gone. Other than the fact mid year it turned into and even better weapon of persuasion when I somehow grew two more cup sizes. I’d become a D, double depending on the bra.

While I may have become sober , I became no less of whatever you want to call a female who sleeps around. The town my grandparents lived in was extremely religious so I had plenty of blue balled Christian boys, with Christian girlfriends who were saving themselves for marriage. It doesn’t take much to persuade the boys. It really doesn’t.

Judge me, call me whatever names you’d like but I’d proudly taken the virginity of enough boys to have to borrow another set of hands to count on. If I’d had other means of release, like drugs and alcohol maybe my body count wouldn’t have been as high. But it was all I had to get me through the year. I was good at it. I’m still good at it. That’s what losing your virginity at a way too young of an age to a tutor does to you I guess. I learned quickly that what was between my legs could control almost any male I came in contact with. Most of the time I could do it without even giving it away, instead just by leaving them with the idea of it, the promise they might be lucky enough.

So anyways, back to the construction and house additions. My parents allowed me to come back for my senior year after my at home drug tests my grandparents gave me came back clean every few weeks I was there. The outside and inside of the house were filled with men. Sweaty, disgusting men. It was like that had no idea they had given me the worlds best coming home present.

There were quite a few guys near my age, who I wouldn’t say were poor. But I knew they lived in houses outside the city , maybe on the outskirts or deeper in the poverty areas, they didn’t live in houses like ours, they didn’t have private tennis courts that nobody ever used, or home theaters. They didn’t have rich girls giving them the time of day. Until I came home anyways.

Now, call me a stuck up bitch, because I admit , had any of my friends been around, and not in Europe or some other destination away from here, I’d have likely stuck with my old regular hookups. But most of them wouldn’t be back until right before school.

——

As soon as I stepped out of the town car , one of our drivers opening it for me. I could see the heads of quite a few workers to turn , at first just to see who was here. They probably knew my parents were gone for the rest of summer. However once they saw me step out , some of their gazes lingered longer than those of people who are just curious to see what’s going on.

I had on a black sleeveless Louis Vuitton dress made of wool silk. The fabric was frilled and ruffled at the shoulders, and also around the neck. The dress came all the way to my neck, my junior year grown tits pressed tightly into the dress. I enjoyed the disappointment I caused men when they could tell my tits were big, but couldn’t see the slightest hint of skin from them. I gave a small smile watching them through my sunglasses as I grabbed my matching purse from the back seat. I adjusted the thin brown Louis monogrammed belt that was high around the waist, and then walked up the front steps where one of our house keepers was waiting and opened the door for me.

“Miss Giada, welcome back” George smiled and I gave him a smile, the look on his face was guilty as if he’d been the one to send me away for a year.

“George please….it’s Jade” I rolled my eyes and then smiled and we kissed each other’s cheek as I gave a friendly hug.

Yes. My parents named me Jade Giada. Know what Giada means? Fucking Jade. In Italian. My friends are aware of this and call me JadeJade. At first it was annoying. But it’s stuck and I’m used to it now.

“Yes Miss Jade” he smiles and places a kiss on my forehead. “Are you happy to be back?” He asks taking my purse for me.

“I was in fucking Montana George , what do you think?” I ask looking at him and he laughs and nods.

“Yes , well, I thought maybe you’d grown accustomed to life there” he says and I follow him through the main hall and towards the kitchen.

“I had the chef prepare your favorite” he grinned happily and his entire face wrinkled, the wrinkles already there , their creases becoming longer and deeper.

I laugh because I know exactly what my favorite is. My chef hates making it because I’m not using his culinary skills to my advantage. He’s joking of course, well partially.

I walk in and see Jacques and he pushes a plain square plate forward across the counter towards a high stool on the opposite side.

“Madame” he gives a slight nod and gestures with one hand to the plate. Now , I might not get along with my parents , but our staff, what I consider my real family, is entirely different.

“Oh my” I hold a hand to chest as I walk over and look at the plate. “Jacques! This must’ve taken you all day! How ever did you do it!” I fake shock and amazement over my grilled cheese sandwich.

“I had to get the krafts singles imported , such a…” he grimaces and I laugh. “Delicacy” he finishes.

“And on plain white bread!” I exclaim. “Oh DAH-LING” I flick my hand at the wrist , my fingers towards him. “You didn’t have to go through such trouble for little old me!”

Jacques smiles and walks around the counter and gives me the same hug and kiss on the cheek that George greeted me with and they both sit on either side of me and my stomach rumbles and I take my first bite.

“You’ve outdone yourself Jacques” I give a friendly wink and nudge him with my elbow.

“Yes, yes. I’m sure your father enjoys paying me what he does to make you grilled cheese sandwiches” he says and I smile.

“They’re worth every penny Jacques.” I say sincerely and he smiles humbly at me and nods.

“Thank you” he says just as sincerely.

All of them know my reputation of a party girl, and while they do offer advice , they never seem to judge. They look out for me, while never trying to change me. Sometimes I wonder if they’re just really good actors and hate me, or if they pity me because they know my parents don’t care about my well being , just their image. I promised myself when I came back. It would be for them that I stayed sober. Not for my parents , not even for myself. Because when I laid in bed at night in Montana , I would see their faces. Remember the looks on their faces when they’d look over me after coming home drunk or high in the middle of the night or early mornings. I cringe when I think of how many times George and Lizzie our two main house keepers have had to clean up my vomit, hold my hair back. And the two times they both had to pick me up from a party to go get my stomach pumped. It was pretty easy to make the decision after I was sober long enough to reflect on it all. Before , I wasn’t sober long enough to worry about the effect I was having on them. They’d been there for me. Always. It was the least I could do.

——-

After my grilled cheese I walked across the marble floor, my high heels clicking and echoing as I went to the back of the house to see what had been done so far out back. And, well , maybe to also pick out some prey for myself among the construction workers.

I slid the glass door open and walked out onto the pavement and onto the back patio. Our pool boy was there , I wondered how much my mother was missing him while she was gone. While I’ve never caught them together , it can be the only reason I can think of that he’s never returned any of my advances. I give a little wave and he smiles and returns to cleaning. I walk around the pool and decide later I’m going for a swim. I walk past the other edge of the pool where the waterfall plunges into the pool, behind it a small hot tub grotto. My father was inspired after going to the play boy mansion years ago one time. I roll my eyes at the thought of him, but then smirk to myself at how much use I got out of that grotto , how many boys and girls I’d messed around with behind the waterfall.

Replaying those times in my head , makes my pussy dampen, and I realize I need to have sex. It’s been days and little Jade needs a release if I’m going to keep up this whole being sober thing. I figure one addiction is okay to keep.

I walk behind the waterfall and see a construction worker leaning against the steps of the large rock the water fall comes from. He’s smoking a cigarette when he looks up at me, his hand pauses as he goes to take another drag. He’s wondering if he should put it out, if he’s gonna get fired cause a prissy little bitch caught him smoking.

I give a smile and walk over to him, my heels clicking and I see him look down at them, his eyes trailing up my legs. This ones in the bag I tell myself mentally.

While he’s busy taking me in, I take in him as well. His body is ridiculously fit and he has what I call the vicious V , the delicious indentations near his hips that direct me to my favorite part of the male body. He’s wearing raggedy jeans and some brown dirty work boots. I lick my lips and then meet his gaze.

“I’m Jade. I live here.” I say and reach out and take his cigarette and pull from it as I place it between my lips. His eyes are blue like a fucking glacier. The ones you see in those perfect photos in travel magazines. His hair is dark, almost black. It’s shorter on the sides and longer on the top. And his full lips become thinner as they pull into a little smirk.

“Really? I thought maybe you were part of the construction crew” he says sarcastically as I pull another drag from his cigarette and he reaches out and grabs it right back and pulls a drag. I watch him blow out the smoke as he gives me another up and down glance.

I watch him shake his head slightly moving the longer pieces of his hair out of his face as he stands up straight pushing off the wall. His jeans fall slightly lower off his hips and my eyes dart right to that vicious v. The idea of him using his lunch break to end my dry spell has my panties wet.

I step closer and his eyes go up in surprise at how close I’m getting. I grab his hand as he goes to take another drag. Instead of stealing the cigarette back from him , I turn my head slightly , my eyes still on his and put my mouth to the filter on the cigarette and suck another drag from it. His eyebrow cocks slightly and I pull back , letting go of his hand and exhale.

“Do you have a name smart ass?” I ask, letting him know his sarcasm has been noted.

“I do” he says taking another drag and then flicking the cigarette onto the ground stomping it out with his boot. And I have to say, that act of disrespect for my property only made the situation in my panties worse.

I look at the cigarette butt then to him.

“You gonna pick that up?” I ask. He steps closer this time and looks down at me. He’s only a few inches taller than me , but the way his eyes are glaring at me as he shakes his head no, makes me feel even smaller.

“Isn’t that what you rich girls have house keepers for?” He asks.

I narrow my eyes, because while I may be a rich brat, the one stereotype I don’t fall into is treating our staff like they’re beneath us.

“Pick it up.” I say.

“What are you going to .. Jade?” He asks, his voice changing to a low, whisper on my name as he licks his lips.

“The house keepers, aren’t paid to be disrespected. Their job is not to pick up after assholes.” I say, he grins.

“And you’re NOT an asshole?” He says , and the way he says it means he’s already assumed I am. And it pisses me off but makes me want to jump his bones at the same time.

“No. Not to them anyways.” I say and he steps back slightly and crosses his arms.

“Pick it up” I say again.

He eyes me and I don’t break eye contact. I cross my arms too, sticking one foot out, shifting my weight to one leg as I jut out my hip.

I watch him bend over and pick it up. My breath catches as his head turns and he looks at my heels, my ankles, my legs, he stands up slowly, his face so close to my body examining what seems like every inch. When his face is close to my thighs I wonder if he can smell my sex , or can hear the drumming ache throbbing inside my pussy. He’s makes no attempt at making it discreet and a small smile plays at his lips when he comes to my tits.

When he’s finally standing up straight again he holds up the cigarette butt and smiles. He shakes his hand slightly waving it around.

“I’ll have Lizzie get you a can or something to throw your cigarettes in. If anyone in this house finds a single one on our property , I’ll have you fired.” I say and turn around and walk away.

I hear him give a little laugh as I turn around.

As I walk I feel the wetness in my panties and curse mentally. When I open the door and go to turn and close it to go inside I jump. He’s there, right behind me.

“What the hell!” I say and look at him.

He looks genuinely confused.

“I thought you said you were going to get us a can or something.” He says and starts to step forward and I push my hand out and against his chest. He immediately looks down and I pause. Holding it there. His chest is hard, shining with a light coat of sweat.

“Stay out here. You fucking smell” I say and he looks up and gives a little laugh , pushes his hair back and steps away from the door. I close it and walk to the kitchen , I go under the counter to the recycling trash bin, and find a large empty glass jar and walk to the sink and fill it with water.

I hear footsteps and look up. I growl.

“I thought I told you to wait outside” I said.

He smiles and walks over to me as I set the jar on the counter.

“Well. I figured if you don’t want cigarettes on the ground, you probably don’t want me pissing on it either. We were told we could use the bathrooms down here. Unless you’d like me to whip it out and piss in the pool or something.” He smirks and puts his cigarette butt In the jar.

My jaw drops slightly and he laughs shaking his head and walks away towards the hall with one of the bathrooms.

I wait and while I do another construction worker comes in. He’s a bit older, wearing beat up jeans and work boots just like the other guy. Except he’s wearing a white t shirt that’s soaked in sweat. He nods slightly as he walks by. He seems unsure if he should be using the restroom , I realize I’ve made him nervous. And these guys really think all rich people are assholes I guess. I give him a nod back and we say nothing and he continues towards the same hall.

A few seconds later my smart ass has returned. He reaches for the jar and I reach for it too , and hold onto it so he can’t take it.

“What is your name?” I demand.

He smiles and looks at me and again looks me up and down and moves a little closer.

“You don’t need to know my name princess.” He says. But he doesn’t say it endearingly. He says it in a way that indicates I’m spoiled.

“You work for me. I should know it.” I say.

He laughs shaking his head. “I work for my boss, who works for your father princess”

I narrow my eyes at him.

“Shut up” is all I can think to say at that moment because he’s getting me all worked up standing so close.

One side of his lips turns up into a smirk.

“Yes ma’am” he says and pulls at the jar and walks out of the house, the other guy coming out and they both leave the house and go outside. I growl to myself.

“Dick” I mutter.

——

After an hour or so with Lizzie telling her all about Montana as she helps me put away my clothes and put away my suitcases , I decide it’s time to go swimming. Time to show no name smart ass my curves and make his dick too hard to work and think straight.

I put on a light baby blue two piece. The bottoms are tiny. The top is a bandeau. Which is cinched in the middle by the thin straps that come up and tie behind my neck. Which I’m thankful for , because now that my tits have grown , I’m not sure if the top would be able to hold itself up otherwise.

I throw on my Gucci slides and head down stairs and George looks at me.

“Miss Giada , the men are still here working” he says.

“I know George” I smile and he shakes his head as I walk through the house and out to the back.