Have Yvette make dinner

Dave figures the night is young and he might as well explore his new house. He took the sluttiest little cocktail dress they had purchased from Yvette when she returned from the car and instructed her to hang the rest in the master bedroom after changing into her proper uniform. Candy squealed when he entered the bathroom to hang the slutty dress on the towel rack, but she made no effort to cover her nubile naked body.

"Why don't you put this on for dinner, Candy. Yvette will serve us at seven. No underwear, though, mind you! You don't want to ruin the line. And I'd just have to take them off you later anyway."

Candy giggled and nodded in agreement. David admired her scrubbing herself a bit longer, then went to investigate the house.

Yvette had indeed changed into the lingerie uniform and it fit well. A litle too well. Dave wished her tits bigger until they were threatening to pop right out of the uniform. He used the bone to encourage the maid to enjoy showing herself off. Yvette minced about, making unnecessarily deep bends as she gathered up Candy's new clothes and hung it in the closet. Dave asked her about her family and relations. She had a daughter in Chicago that she sent money to. All of her other family were in "the old country". No danger there. The former Freida's main occupations outside of work seemed to be soap operas and the local Orthodox Church.

If anyone came asking after Freida, Dave could always wish her back. But he should have some time before and that happened. Charlene, on the other hand, no doubt had all sorts of social engagements. But his bimbo intern Candy didn't know anything about that. He would burn that bridge when he got to it.

He sent Yvette off to cook dinner with a friendly squeeze her ass and a reminder to pull out the good stuff from the wine cellar. Then Dave rifled through his former bosses underwear drawer, deciding what she could keep and what would go in the trash. Most went in the trash.

When going through Charlene's shit lost its voyeristic charm, he figured some actual voyerism might be nice.

Soft moans and occasional splashes emirates from behind the bathroom door. A simple wish let Dave open it without the occupant noticing. It might not have been necessary. The barely-legal bimbo that had been his bitch boss that morning had her eyes closed and her lips pursed, one hand fondling an erect nipple, the other at her crotch as she lay in the bathtub.

"Oh Mr. Dave, sir! It's so big!" She exclaimed, lost in her fantasy. "And I've never done it back there! But for you… For you Mr. Dave sir… Oooo… I'd do anything for you, Mr. Dave! You what? Oh my, sir, you'd tell everyone I'm your girlfriend?! Oh, yes! Oh that would make me so happy sir! Yes! Please! Bend me over and fuck my ass! Fuck your girlfriend's ass! I'm so happy!"

Dave grinned and blood began to flow into his crotch again. That he hadn't wished this specifically made it all the sweeter. He had really fucked Candy up. He was tempted to make her fantasy real right then. But the smells that were walking from the kitchen for tempting in their own way. And he was sure he would only get hornier as the night progressed.