Final Day

You're about to head over to Bob's for your reward, when he sends you a text:

• You can't cum yet. Mom just called. She's coming back tomorrow. I need to clean -

I can cum whenever I damn please. You type your response without thinking:

• I'll be there soon -

You can't help but feel annoyed when you put your phone down. Soon, your amazing summer will be cut short. You won't be able to do anything to Bob anymore with his mom at home. Unless maybe if I act nice to him today? You'll keep that thought in mind.

"Why'd you come? I told you I have to clean first." The look on his face says he's afraid you won't let him. But you don't want any problems with his mother. You actually feel bad for her for having such a loser son. Should have raised him better.

"Why? Cause I know your useless ass won't be able to finish the house in a day! C'mon let me see your clit."

"What!?"

"I want to see your clit!" You pull his pants down and are pleased to see everything is still in place. Part of you was worried Bob would try to find a way out of it. "You've been a good girl, Brittany. Now how about you put on your clothes and we can get to work."

"I can't work in that dress!" He protests, but you just give him a serious stare. "OK, just give me a minute," he mutters.

When he's in unifrom, you begin. You start upstairs with the bedroom, splitting the work so that you are vaccuming while Bob dusts. With the feather duster in hand, Brittany kinda looks like a maid. Forcing the dirty fantasy from your mind, you get back to work.

Quickly, you make your way through the rooms, using your teamwork to your advantage. In the master bedroom, you move all the heavy furniture so that Bob will be able to dust behind it. You refuse to help him wipe the glass, though, saying that's what he's good at.

An hour and a half later, you're finished with the second floor and ready to head down to the living room. Bob asks to open the window so that the house can stink less from all your smoking, but you forbid him.

"It's ninety fucking degrees outside. You should've thought of that before."

"But mommy is going to think I was the one smoking!"

"Girl, which one of us would you rather get your spanking from?"

When you're more or less finished with the living room, you head to the kitchen to grab yourself a beer, cooling on the couch while you watch Bob continue the work.

The basement, on the other hand, is where he gets to chill while you do the work. There's lots of heavy crap that needs to be moved around, and the boy is too weak to help out. Soon your shirt is off as your muscles burn from the effort, the whole room closer to a gym in your mind. Why did I bother moving all this shit in the first place? The whole room stinks of your masculine sweat by the time you're finished, and you can tell some part of Bob finds it arousing. At one point you catch him taking a deep breath as you walk by.

You decide it's time for another break. You open up a beer for yourself and an apple juice for Bob.

All done, you head outside where Bob turns on the water hose and makes his way around the house, watering every plant his mother planted. Meanwhile, you fire up the lawnmower and criss-cross your way in front of the house, making sure it looks more or less flat. The scorching heat exhausts you more than the work-out, and as you complete your final turn, you find yourself wiping your forehead every few seconds. The sweat is coming out of your body, making your abs glisten in the sun.

"Whew, all done!" You call, shutting off the engine. "I don't know about you man, but I sure need a shower."

He doesn't say anything, not really tired at all, what with you doing most of the work. But that's fine, you think, now I get my reward.

You take a shower upstairs while Bob nervously waits.