It starts with a pretty good breakfast

I am a little surprised when I get to the kitchen in the morning to start making breakfast when I see that Riya had beaten me to it. I thought after her chat with Alison and the blow job the day before that Riya had figured out what her real duties were going to be, but on the table before me is a hot pot of tea and bread and butter set out complete with a plate and cup.

When she sees me walk in, she presses the toast down in the toaster and pours me a cup of tea. “You're in luck, Sir.” She sets the mug down and turns to the stove, “Breakfast is by far my best meal. How do you take your eggs?”

“Wow, I'm impressed. Uh, scrambled is fine.” I watch her as she whips together two eggs with a little milk and pours the mixture into the waiting frypan. She's no gourmet, but it looks like she knows how to cook eggs. Not that i really care about that anyway. The yellow sundress she'd in is a step up from the jeans and tee shirt look she had yesterday, and the color suits her golden skin.

“What?” I must have been staring at her, because she's stopped stirring the eggs and is looking at me quizzically. “Everyone knows how to make eggs, after that I'm not making any promises.”

“It's OK, I didn't hire you for your cooking skills.” Riya's shy smile reminds me a little of Alison, and as if she's reading my mind Riya says:

“Yeah, Alison filled me in, remember?” I take a sip of the strong tea, not sure exactly what to say, but Riya fills the silence nervously. “How is this going to work, Mr. Patterson?” She asks. “Alison says you two started just once a week, but over time you two got it on pretty regularly.” I nod, it is a fair assessment of what happened, although not with the others after Alison left.

“What do you want, Riya?” I ask, determined to make this right.

“You got me pretty worked up yesterday, Mr. Patterson,” she pauses before going on in a rush. “Are you going to finish what we started? I have classes in the morning, but I'm free in the afternoon.”

“I'd certainly like to.” Then in a bit of a gambit I decided to throw in a curveball, “But you have chores to do when you get home.” Riya doesn't seem fazed by this at all as she scrapes my eggs onto my plate and places two pieces of toast on the plate.

“I know, Sir, cleaning and cooking, and ...” her eyes lower shyly, “Will you need me to bathe you?” The image of this pretty Indian exchange student sponging me down in the shower makes my cock swell in my pants, Riya must have noticed the way I stiffened because her hand rests on my shoulder softly. “Maybe you'd rather wait until bedtime for your bath.”

“Aren't you going to eat?” I ask, noticing for the first time that there was only my place setting at the table.

“I'll eat as I clean up, Mr. Patterson.” She wipes her hands on the towel, “That's what the help did back home.”