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Weekend Jobs Belladonna "Can't I wear something a little more contemporary?" Bruce asked his wife while he unrolled a nude, sheer nylon stocking up his right leg. "Why? You're going to look so darling!" "I'm going to look like June Cleaver," Bruce retorted, feeling foolish despite his increasing arousal from the silky garment that was clinging to the waxed, smooth skin of his leg. "Oh, they all know what you are. Don't worry about it." "That's true enough, but they could know about what I am in something from this century," Bruce replied, hooking the stocking to his garter belt as he did so. "A big old sissy dressing like a normal girl on a holiday...where'd the fun be in that?" Maureen answered her husband with a grin. Bruce shook his head with a laugh. He knew that his wife was taking pleasure from seeing him dress up in something ridiculous for Thanksgiving dinner with her friends. Bruce brought the matching stocking up his left leg before he took hold of a baby blue, cap sleeved, knee length, circle dress. Bruce brought it over his padded out bullet bra and adjusted the large black button covered bodice over it. Maureen straightened out the Peter Pan collar of his dress and adorned him with a faux pearl necklace on him before she placed a kiss on his lips. Maureen pulled away from him. She turned back to face him with a sheepish grin while she handed him his baby blue/cream two tone colored, rounded toe pumps that were decorated with a large cream-colored bow on the vamp and sported three-inch, baby blue, kitten heels. He rolled his eyes at her before he took the shoes from her hands without a word of protest. As he stepped into them, Maureen leaned back on her kitten heels and said, "You need something else." Maureen shook her head before she grinned and noted, "You forgot your apron." "Yah...forgot," Bruce retorted. "It completes the outfit," Maureen rejoined. "Costume! This is a costume," Bruce replied, trying to convey how unhappy he was about her choice of outfit. "Oh, man up and do what your wife wants," Maureen responded with a grin before Bruce took hold of his white, frilly apron that was decorated with a pattern of red cherries. Bruce put the apron on and tied it behind his back. Maureen nodded with a grin at his appearance before she broker her silence to say, "You look something out of a Norman Rockwell painting." "Yes, the Freedom of Want to be a Sissy." "Actualizing it is freeing, Mother," Maureen rejoined. "Oh, I'm the mother?" "You cut the closet image to Ma serving the turkey." "So, does that make you Pa, dear?" "For the day, I suppose," Maureen replied while placing her hands on her hips. "I don't remember Pa wearing a dress." "Only because he didn't have the legs for it," Maureen rejoined with a grin before she stepped out of the room to touch her makeup in the bathroom. Bruce smiled at his wife before he started out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen. Bruce checked on the turkey he had placed in the oven before he looked over the various side dishes he had prepared for the meal. They only needed to be heated before he served them to the group of Maureen's friends who were joining them for dinner. Bruce and Maureen's non-traditional relationship had kept them estranged from their families for years. There was knowledge on both sides of the family that Bruce was a closet cross-dresser, while Maureen's predilections were similarly known. Maureen's friends knew the truth about them too. They had met Bruce en femme a number of times over the years, but he was always wearing the outfit of the average, skirted woman. Those outfits were entirely unlike the outfit that Maureen had selected for him this holiday, which Bruce felt resembled a period costume. The girls had been coming over to their home for Thanksgiving for the last three years. Each time, Bruce had cooked for them in an increasingly feminine outfit since he wife stressed that the dinner should be an all girl event. At first, Maureen kept him to girls' dark green, flat front, wide leg pants, black canvas, pinch penny loafers and a black ribbed, turtleneck sweater. By the second year, he was wearing a partially see through, white, button down blouse, tight, black pointe knit, ankle pants that showed off his gaff smoothened crotch and black suede, two-inch high wedges that made him appear noticeably taller to the girls. The year before, Bruce had spent his Thanksgiving in a crimson, double layered, below the knee tube skirt, cream colored sweater and crimson kitten heels. Maureen's friends teased him each time, but that only drove Maureen to push him further the following year. Bruce shook his head at his reflection in the darkened microwave door. From the blonde wig atop his head that featured bangs cut well above his eyebrows and bleached blonde shoulder-length hair ending in an exaggerated flip, to the chiffon headscarf that matched his baby blue dress that partially held the wig in place, to his black cat-eye glasses to his frilly apron, Bruce was transfixed by his decidedly feminized and dated appearance. His mind wandered as he began to wonder how his wife could find a way to push him further the next year. The mix of intrigue and fear he felt about it brought an uneasy smile to his face. Even if he hated it, Bruce knew that he had only himself to blame. They always pushed each other towards their kinks. It was something that they shared. Bruce loved looking like a woman, while Maureen loved being a lowly one. Neither was reflective of their lives outside their home however. Bruce and Maureen both worked professional jobs that paid good salaries. As a result, they could not parade around in public living the lives they dreamed of having. That meant that they could only pursue their wish fulfillment behind closed doors with each other and the few friends that Maureen was close enough with to share their secret desires. While her friends had seen Bruce en femme, they had also seen Maureen working as a "breastaurant" waitress in her younger days and a cleaner around her own home. They teased her almost as much about it as they teased Bruce for his skirted affairs. The price of Maureen's tolerance of Bruce's cross-dressing though, often brought him down to the level that Maureen liked to pretend to exist on. Accordingly, when Maureen let their cleaning lady go, Bruce found himself working beside his wife in a matching simple black dress, ballet flats and an apron while they cleaned the home each Saturday. Bruce liked it better when he could play himself en femme and let his wife play the role she wanted, whether it was the Hooter's waitress she had once been or his secretary. Role-playing had long been a part of their lives, although Bruce could see that it was losing its thrill for Maureen. She clearly wanted to return to their college days when they met, when he encouraged her to work at Hooters. She dyed her hair bleach blonde with his help. He offered her support by showing up on her shifts wearing a matching pair of thick, suntan pantyhose beneath his own clothing while she served others. He knew that it had become a pipe dream for her now, however, since she could never work such a job given the risk of exposure that accompanied it. The closest thing to role-playing she could get, at the moment, was watching Bruce live out a subjugated role around her friends. As Bruce closed the oven door, he heard a knock upon the front door. "Coming," Bruce yelled before he moved towards the door. The loud sound of Bruce's clicking heels on the wood floors drew chuckles through the door. Bruce paused before the door and caught the outline of Maureen's friend Victoria through the frosted glass panels of the entry door. Bruce drew the door open and let the surprised looking girl into his home. Bruce bent down and kissed the girl on her cheek before he let her in. She stared at him in silence while she stepped into the home. "Let me get your coat," Bruce offered. "Thank you, dear," the girl replied with a laugh. Bruce helped her remove her coat before he hung it up in the closet and said, "How have you been?" "Good, you?" Victoria inquired. "Same old." "That dress looks new," the girl countered. "This old thing...," Bruce replied before he wife came towards them. Maureen greeted the girl with a hug and a smile before the rest of the guests arrived. Soon after, Bruce let Paige and Stella in and took their coats. The girls smirked at each other before Bruce asked, "Did you come together?" The girls advised that they had before they began to laugh about the image Bruce struck as he put away their coats. Maureen heard her friends joking with Bruce before she came over and admonished, "Girls, don't fraternize with the help." "The help?" Victoria asked with a laugh. "I'm a big help," Bruce countered while he straightened his glasses out on his nose. "Yes, now, get back it to work," Maureen rejoined. "Yes, dear," Bruce replied. Bruce went into the kitchen to get back to cooking their meal while his wife led her friends over to the dinning room. While they chatted, Bruce brought out a tray of appetizers for the girls to pick on. "Thanks, babe," Maureen said as he put down the tray. "You're welcome," Bruce replied before Maureen smacked his ass on his way out of the room. "Fresh," Bruce managed to say, even as he struggled not to blush while Maureen's friends laughed at the display they had witnessed. Bruce scampered into the kitchen and went back to checking on the various dishes that he was heating up. He checked the turkey before he went into the dinning room to sit with the girls for a few minutes. After a few minutes at the table, Bruce collected the dishes from the girls and brought them into the kitchen. Before he cleaned the dishes, he decided to bring out a bottle of wine to refill the girls' glasses. Bruce poured the girls' glasses and went back into the kitchen. He hurried around the kitchen tending to the various dishes before he took the turkey out of the oven. Bruce then carried plates and silverware into the dinning room and set the table in front of the chatting girls. "Do you need any help?" Paige inquired.' "No. I'm good," Bruce answered before he walked back into the kitchen. Bruce reached for two side dishes of food and brought them back out to the relaxing girls. "Are we almost ready?" Maureen asked as Bruce put the first side dish on the table. Bruce nodded, bringing his wife to her feet. She hurried behind Bruce and helped him bring the rest of the dishes and platters out to the table. Bruce served the girls the dinner before he refilled their glasses. As Bruce sat down, Victoria joked, "Maureen, you're so lucky to have a wife straight out of a time when women were women." "Ah..., but men were men then," Maureen countered, making her friends laugh while Bruce's cheeks burned red. "That's not true anymore," Stella added. "At least, not when Bruce's around," Victoria cracked. "Thanks, girls," Bruce interjected as he took a bite of his turkey. "You know we're just joking," Paige replied. "Sure," Bruce responded, dismissing her claim. "Don't be rude," Maureen scolded. "Know your place, girl," Paige joked. "Can't you control your woman," Victoria asked Maureen with mock exasperation. "If she could, do you think she'd be sitting here in a skirt?" Stella answered as she pointed at Bruce. Bruce blushed again as he laughed with the women. The girls then went to talking between themselves about various things in their personal and professional lives as they continued to eat. Once the girls had finished what was on their plates, Bruce stood up and began to serve the girls a second helping of the food. As Bruce passed around seconds of the food, Victoria smirked as she said, "You really make for the perfect wife." "Thank you," Bruce said with a smile before he put down the serving spoon and did a small curtsy to the girl. The girls laughed as Bruce let go of the edges of the skirt of his dress and went back to serving the food. "Being married to Bruce must be like having a mother," Victoria noted to Maureen. "No. He's not my mother." "He's motherly," Stella countered. Maureen smirked at her husband as she said, "Well, maybe a little." "He keeps a clean house. I'm impressed," Paige added. "That he does. I could use her at my place," Victoria noted. "You can take her," Maureen replied. "What's that?" "She can tidy up your place." "Are you joking?" Victoria asked. "Would I joke about such a thing?" Bruce and Victoria gave each other inquisitive looks, since they both knew that she would, in fact, joke about such a thing. Maureen smiled at Bruce, but she did not say a word in response. Stella looked at the three of them before she said, "While we're on the subject, my cleaner just quit..." "You want my Moira too?" Maureen asked with a laugh. "If you're offering her...." "I want in on this too," Paige interjected. "Three houses, that's a lot of cleaning for one weekend, but she's got help around here," Maureen countered as continued to eat as the girls laughed at her comment, knowing too well the predilections that she was suppressing at the moment. Bruce's stomach turned as he ate in his seat in silence. He wondered if his wife was going to decide for him before Paige asked, "So what do you think, Moira?" Bruce shrugged as he said, "I don't know. It's a lot to take on..." "You can swing it," Victoria added. Bruce smiled as he said, "I think you're asking the wrong girl. Maureen's the one who wants to be a cleaner." "I wouldn't be comfortable employing my friend...," Stella began to respond. "But her husband, well, that's enough story," Victoria interjected with a grin. "I'm not sure about this, girls..." "I'm a little out of the way too," Stella admitted, cutting Bruce off. "She'll do it," Maureen responded before Bruce could second her opinion. Bruce stared at his wife in silence. She smiled as she took another bite of the food he prepared before she said, "This is delicious, baby." "It really is," Paige added. The other girls seconded their sentiments while Bruce stared at his wife. He knew that she was trying to live out her fantasies through him. He wondered if she had put her friends up to it, just so she could have opportunity to force his hand. Bruce's focus was broken when Victoria asked his wife how much she would charge for him to clean her home. Maureen grinned as she threw up her hands and said, "I don't know, how about 50 bucks?" "That cheap?" Victoria exclaimed with a laugh after nearly spitting out her wine. "Well, getting to wear dresses around you girls is sort of her main payment, right," Maureen responded, half-jokingly. "Right," Bruce replied to his wife, simultaneously trying to contemplate how he was wrapping up his Thanksgiving Day by getting three new jobs. He knew that despite his wife's promise to help at their home, he was likely going to be cleaning up four homes each weekend. 'It's going to be thank God it's Monday for me,' Bruce figured while they continued to eat. Once they finished eating, Bruce got to his feet and took the plates from the girls. He carried them into the kitchen while the girls talked amongst themselves. After placing the dishes, forks and knives in the sink, Bruce reached into the refrigerator and removed a bottle of champagne. He popped the cork before he poured out four glasses. He placed them on the silver serving tray that Maureen had purchased for when she was in a role and served him. The sound of Bruce's clicking heels brought the girls eyes to him while he carried the tray into the dinning room. He then reached down, took hold of the first glass and handed it to Paige. She thanked him before he handed a glass to each of the other girls. Once they each had a glass, Bruce placed the tray down and put a few of the side dishes on it to help him sped up cleaning off the table. As he lifted the tray, Victoria stood up and said, "Can I get a toast for Moira?" "Sure," Maureen added as she raised her glass. The other girls raised theirs as well as Bruce stood motionless in the doorway of the dinning room, waiting to carry the tray into the kitchen. Victoria grinned as she said, "To Moira, may we all be lucky enough to have help like you." The girls cheered the toast. Bruce smirked at it as he shook his head. Bruce bobbed as he thanked the girls before he carried the tray into the kitchen. He replayed the moment in his head while retrieved the remaining items from the table. The thoughts made his manhood stir while the girls talked before he began to cleanup in the kitchen. Bruce scrubbed the various plates, dishes, bowls, glasses and silverware he had retrieved from the table. As he toiled, he whished that his wife would break from the dominant act she was playing to take to doing what he was, as he knew she truly wanted to do. Once he finished, Bruce washed his hands and began to carry the desserts out to the girls. The stuffed girls moaned at the sight, even as Bruce knew that their protests of not being to eat anymore would prove disingenuous at best. After placing the various sweets on the table, Bruce asked the girls if they wanted coffee or tea. Bruce took their orders before he made cups of tea for Maureen and Paige and brought out coffee for himself, Stella and Victoria. He carried out bottles of cordials for the girls to sip on as well while they finished their holiday with him and his wife. As they talked, the conversation turned to Bruce's outfit. Victoria smiled at it and asked, "So, Maureen, how are you going to outdo yourself next year with him?" "Me? Moira picked that outfit out herself?" "I'm so sure," Paige interjected as the table shared a laugh at the obvious fib. Maureen shook her head and said, "I'm sure I'll think of something." "I know you will, but in what direction?" Victoria inquired, unable to keep from smirking at what she thought her friend would do next. "Pardon," Maureen replied. "Are you going to go the old fashioned route. What's the next step, Victorian housewife..." "Victorian Maid?" Stella interjected with a grin. Victoria nodded before she added, "A little tribute to my namesake, or are we going to pay tribute to Moira's Scottish roots with a little Titled Kilt outfit." "Moira would probably look better in it than she did in that kilt at your wedding," Paige joked. "She'd definitely look prettier," Maureen replied as Bruce nodded in agreement, wondering if his wife would tip her hand. She did no such thing as the conversation soon turned and the girls continued to chat with Bruce for a while. As Victoria finished her cup, she turned towards Bruce and snapped her fingers. Bruce stared at her in silence before the girl smirked and said, "Girl, more coffee." "Girl?" Bruce asked with a laugh. "What do you expect to be called when you wear that type of outfit?" Victoria countered. "Mommy Dearest," Stella interjected to the girl's laughter. Bruce got to his feet while he rolled his eyes. He clasped her cup and filled it back up before he placed it down in front of her and said in the most proper, feminine tone he could muster, "Here, you are Madame." "Thank you," Victoria replied as she took a sip and said, "It's just lovely." Bruce nodded as he said "You're welcome, Madame, but if you ever call me Mommy Dearest I'm going to find some wire hangers to strike you with" before he sat back down. "Your little spark plug's got the Scottish temper," Stella said to Maureen with a smirk. Maureen nodded before the girls went back to talking while they finished their deserts. Once they finished, Bruce began to clean up the table. Maureen's friends noticed Bruce's labors and decided that it was time to leave. The girls thanked Bruce and Maureen for their hospitality before they left their home. As Maureen let her friends out the door, Bruce continued to clean the home. He took to clearing off the filth from the dinning room table before his wife came over to help him. Bruce glared at her as she fell into her normal role of embracing cleaning beside him. Maureen noticed her husband's tired glare before she asked, "What's wrong?" "Did you really have to volunteer me to your friends?" "It'll be fun..." "It would be fun for you, but I'm not you..." "I know that..." "Then, why am I living out your fantasy?" Bruce countered as he continued to clean the home. Maureen stared at him in silence before she went about silently cleaning the home beside him as she wondered if she had pushed him too far. Once they finished cleaning, they went upstairs and got ready for bed. Bruce pulled off the wig and removed his makeup before he slipped under the covers. Maureen followed behind him a few minutes later. She smiled as she thought of a way to try to make it up to him. She placed her arm around him and tried to rouse him. "I'm too tired," Bruce said as he pulled at the covers. "Come on baby, you can't resist this," his wife cooed as she ran her fingertips down his arm. "Tired," Bruce muttered as he turned on his side. "Really?" Maureen asked in the most seductive voice she could muster. The sound of her husband's sudden snoring jolted her. Maureen glared at him in silence for a few moments before she muttered, "I've become my father." ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Bruce awoke early the next morning. After breakfast, he took to tidying up around the home. Maureen arose later than she normally did. She gave Bruce a coy smile that quickly left her face as she watched him cleaning the kitchen floor. Maureen walked around Bruce as she made herself breakfast. She went to speak a few times, but she struggled to say anything. After she finished eating, Maureen tracked the sound of the vacuum up to their bedroom. She grinned as she smiled at Bruce's appearance in his cleaning uniform. "I think you should wear that to the girls' houses ," she shouted over the sound of the vacuum. Bruce turned off the vacuum and faced his wife. He gave her and odd look as he asked, "What?" "I think you should wear that outfit for your weekend jobs." "Weekend jobs?" "You remember what you agreed to last night." "Oh, how can I forget?" Bruce retorted with a glare. "Oh, don't be that way. It'll be fun." "For you! I'm living your fantasy out for you. What are you not getting about this?" "Maybe, I can do something too." "Like what? You're not going back to Hooters." "Why, am I too old?" Maureen rejoined matching his glare with one of her own. "No! It's just too dangerous," Bruce responded quickly, trying to disabuse her of the notion that he would say such a thing as he felt that he was quickly losing the high ground in their argument. "I agree, but I can find a spot far away where I could get my own weekend job," Maureen replied with a growing grin. "You're a sick woman," Bruce responded with a laugh, shaking his head. "What other type of woman would tolerate having such a delectable sissy for a husband," Maureen retorted. Bruce shot her a glare over her words. "Hey, sissies in glass houses....," Maureen replied with a smile as she walked past him to change into one of her maid uniforms. Bruce shook his head at his wife. While he felt thankful for her to be in his life, there were times when he felt that her fetishes were destructive of his life. Given her tolerance of his though, Bruce believed that he was in no position to complain. Bruce turned the vacuum back on and continued to move about the room. A few minutes later, his wife scooted past him in her uniform, pantyhose and shoes. Her long hair was tied back in a low ponytail and the lack of makeup on her face would do nothing to disabuse anyone who stumbled upon her that she was anything but a domestic in the household. The sight of her unglamorous appearance made Bruce laugh a little. It often did. The realization that they were both successful in their fields and spent a good portion of their weekends living out Maureen's fantasy by dressing as servants often felt too absurd to Bruce not find some amusement in it. Bruce made his way out of his bedroom and carried the vacuum into a guest room. Maureen was already busy dusting the furniture in the room when Bruce entered. He gave her a grin before he went about running the machine over the floors. It was not hard work, but Bruce did not get the same rush out of cleaning that his wife did. The clothing was the only thing that made it tolerable for Bruce. If his wife did not let him use the time as an opportunity to wear his female lingerie, he was sure that he would not even put up with it. Maureen smirked at Bruce as she finished dusting while he continued to clean the floors. Bruce caught the look and turned off his vacuum. "What?" Maureen's eyes darted to the side before she said, "I can't wait until my friends see what a great little cleaner I've made of you." "Oh, neither can I. This will be such a fucking treat. I can't wait to get started," Bruce responded, mimicking Al Pacino's voice as he rolled his eyes. "Try not to sound so rough around them," Maureen chided. "Like they don't know I'm really a guy?" Bruce retorted. "Who knows if they'll have friends over though," Maureen replied. His wife's reply sent a chill up Bruce's spine. 'Oh, God. What if she's right?' Bruce fretted. Maureen could sense the terror she had instilled in her husband. She sucked her lips into her mouth before she walked out of the room to leave him with his thoughts. Bruce shook his head, thinking that her friends were too discreet to risk exposing his secret. They probably would not want their friends and family knowing that they had a cross-dressing cleaning lady for that matter either. The more he mulled it over, the surer he was that it would be nearly as embarrassing for them as it would be for him. After finishing with his vacuuming, Bruce went downstairs to get to see if his wife needed his help with any of the remaining cleaning. Bruce hoped that she would decline his offer to help. He wanted to get out of his uniform and into something more in keeping with his girly girl wardrobe preference. Bruce stepped into the kitchen. Over the sound of the first slaps of his flats on the hard kitchen floor, he heard his wife talking on the phone. She said thank you a few times before she hung up and smiled at her husband. "What's going on?" Bruce asked, feeling nervous over his wife's evident happiness. "It's done," his wife beamed. "What's done?" Bruce asked, still requiring the clarification he had asked for. "I made all the arrangements. I got us a nice motel..." "Woo, woo, woo, motel? For what?" "Oh, I got a job." "Doing what?" "Waitressing and some other stuff." "Where?" "Upstate." "And you got this job how?" "I knew the owner." "You called Kenneth," Bruce replied, knowing that there was only one person his wife would have been able to make arrangements with on such short notice. Maureen nodded before she said, "It's perfect. There are bus stops a few blocks from the motel and the diner. So I won't need a car." "But I'm going to have to drive back home to go to Stella's place," Bruce responded, trying to reason with his wife. "Yes, but Victoria and Paige are not that far from the motel for your Saturday morning work." Bruce gave his wife a dumbfounded look. He could sense her eagerness and knew that there was no point in him trying to fight her on it. Her mind was already made up. "When are we leaving?" Bruce asked. "After dinner," Maureen replied as she went back to scrubbing the toilet bowl. "Tonight?" Bruce asked, momentarily stunned by how quickly she had pulled things together. "We both start tomorrow," Maureen replied, unable to hide her excitement. "I can see me starting with Victoria and Paige, tomorrow but how did you..." "I'm working the night shift. Apparently, Kenneth's got some openings this weekend." "Okay," Bruce replied, struggling to come to terms with how swiftly his wife was able to make her plans come together when she wanted to. "I was thinking that we should get a small studio apartment. I've been looking online, and there not that expensive in the area. 'Because it's a shit hole,' Bruce thought. He kept the thought to himself, however, while his wife continued to weigh the merits of getting an apartment in the area. Bruce nodded his head as Maureen kept talking. Bruce picked his battles with his wife carefully. While he was not happy with the arrangements she was proposing, he could live with them. Given her eagerness, Bruce felt that the arrangements she had made were not something he should fight about with her. "Do you want lunch?" Bruce asked as Maureen finished speaking. "Sure," Maureen replied while she continued cleaning. "Okay," Bruce responded as he walked away from his wife. He walked through the kitchen and went upstairs to change. Given what she had arranged for him for the weekend, he was finished cleaning for the day, whether his wife was or not. Bruce removed his uniform dress and black tights before he put on a light gray, three-quarter sleeved, below the knee, sweater dress, black sheer pantyhose and gray pumps. He walked into the bathroom and touched up his makeup before he brushed his scraggly hair. He placed gel in it to help give it the pixie style he liked to fashion it into when he was not around strangers. Once he finished with his hair, Bruce walked down the stairs and went into the kitchen. He made a couple of sandwiches and poured two glasses of ice tea. As Bruce put their lunch on the table, he called out to his wife, "Maureen, lunch is ready." "Thanks, babe. I'll be in in just a sec," Maureen replied. "Okay," Bruce responded before he sat down and began to eat his lunch. Maureen walked in a few minutes later and gazed at him. Bruce smiled up at her before she inquired, "Knocking off early today?" "Thanks to you, I've got a lot more cleaning to do the next two days. So, I figure that you can finish up around here." Maureen smiled as she replied, "Okay. You know I spoil you." "Oh, yes," Bruce responded with a laugh. Maureen answered her husband's dismissive reply by saying, "Who else would put up with her husband dressed up like he's a Kardashian? Although, your name sake wears a dress better than his ex wife" "You know I wasn't named after Bruce Jenner!" "It's just too much of a coincidence...." "It's a family name. Do you think that I think you were named after Maureen O'Hara?" "I'm okay with it if you think I'm as pretty as she was," Maureen replied with a bat of her eyelashes. Bruce shook his head with a grin before Maureen added with a smile, "And who else would put up with you trying to challenge your wife for the prettiest girl in her own home?" "What other guy would put up with having to be his wife's friends' cleaner so that his wife can live vicariously through him? Hmmm?" Bruce countered. "Fair enough, princess," Maureen replied as she sat down. "Imagine the help sitting with a princess. What is this world coming to?" Bruce said with mock sincerity. Maureen smirked at him as she continued to eat. After they finished eating, Maureen went back to cleaning the house. Bruce cleaned up the dishes and glasses before he went into the living room to relax for a few hours. He watched a sporting event on the television before he went upstairs to pack for the trip. Once he finished packing, Bruce went downstairs and started making dinner. Maureen asked if he needed her help. Bruce shook his head as he replied, "I got it. Go pack." "Thanks, babe," Maureen replied with an enthusiastic hug. Bruce smiled at the feeling. He watched his uniformed wife scurry out of the room with a smile before he refocused on making dinner. Shortly before he placed the meal on the table, Maureen came down the stairs dressed in a simple outfit. Bruce felt that she was as unadorned in it as she was her maid's uniform. Bruce furrowed his brow at her. While Maureen did not look like a domestic out of her uniform, without makeup, and with her hair not having seen a brush, she looked dowdy. He knew that she liked to sport such an appearance in private, but he preferred her weekday look when she dressed up for work. Bruce placed the meal down on the table before they sat down together. Maureen complimented Bruce for the meal while they continued to eat. As they finished eating, Maureen got up and began to clear the table. Bruce helped her bring the dishes into the kitchen before Maureen scrubbed them and put them away. Bruce brought the bags down from upstairs and put them in the car while Maureen finished up in the kitchen. Once Maureen was done, she walked over to Bruce and asked if he was ready to go. Bruce advised that he was before they started towards the car. Seeing Bruce walk toward the driver's seat, Maureen grinned as she asked, "Don't you think it might be better if I drove?" Bruce gave his wife a curious glance before she explained, "I think I match my license photo a little easier than you." Bruce blushed at her statement, realizing that he stepped into the garage en femme without even sensing that there was anything odd about it. He tossed her the keys and said, "All yours." Maureen opened the car door and stepped inside before Bruce joined her. She pulled the car out the garage and drove down the street. As she made her way towards the main road, Bruce turned to her to ask, "Is this really what you want?" Maureen nodded in silence. The determined look in her eye told Bruce all he had to know. He knew that there was no backing out now. They made small talk as they undertook the long drive to the motel. Bruce watched the scenery turn from suburban to urban back to suburban and finally to a more rural setting. Bruce's eyes widened as he saw the sign for the motel that Maureen had made a reservation with for that evening and Saturday. 'You've got to be kidding me?' Bruce thought, amazed that his wife was willing to stay in the run down place. Maureen parked the car. As she went to get out, she turned to Bruce and asked, "Aren't you coming inside?" "I'll join you in the motel room. You can check us in," Bruce replied, not wanting to appear en femme before the innkeeper. Maureen understood Bruce's reluctance to go inside before she closed the car door. She moved towards the building and stepped inside to check in. Bruce stared around the wood-sided building and shook his head. The neon sign had more than one letter of its name dark. 'Jason's going to step out and slash us,' Bruce thought as he looked around the desolate locale that was only a little more than a block from the main road in the area. 'Must have been a nice place before the Bates got their hands on it,' Bruce found himself thinking. While he continued to wait for his wife to step out of the building, Bruce began to pray that he would not have to enter the building to go looking for her. After ten minutes, his wife emerged from the building. She waved at him as she held the keys in her hand. "Holy shit, they actually still have real keys to the doors," Bruce muttered to himself. He nodded at her before he removed the bags from the car and hurried towards their motel room. Maureen opened the door and Bruce stared around the motel room. He felt that the squalid room had not been updated in decades. Bruce turned his wife and saw her excited look as she looked at the run down room. He shook his head as he thought, 'I should have been gay. They have such nice things!' Bruce put the bag down before he hung up their outfits while Maureen slowly stripped out of her dress. Bruce watched as she climbed naked into the bed. 'That is so unsanitary,' Bruce thought as he flinched a little before Maureen beckoned forward. 'God, I hope I have all my shots,' Bruce thought as he began to undress and made his way over to the bed. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Bruce awoke the next morning and got out of bed. Since he was the only one going to work that morning, Maureen pulled the covers over herself while Bruce meandered into the bathroom. Bruce turned on the water before he stepped into the tub that looked like it had not been updated in 30 years. The pipes made loud banging sounds before the spray of water came out. The fact that the water spraying down on his body was clear was enough to constitute a positive for Bruce under the circumstances. He quickly washed himself off before he worked the shampoo into his hair. After he washed out his hair, Bruce turned off the shower and dried off his hairless body. His wife's insistence on his regular use of various depilatory had eliminated any need to shave his body that day. Bruce wrapped a towel around his waist before he put on his large framed, Geek Chic, Ray-Ban glasses and went over to his luggage and retrieved his underwear. After closing the door behind him, Bruce removed his towel and hung it up. He stepped into his gaff and brought it up his legs. He pulled it snugly against his waist as he tucked himself into the garment that had only become marginally less comfortable to him over the years despite his regular use of it. Before he sat down on the edge of the toilet seat, Bruce rolled down his black sheer, control top pantyhose. He slowly unrolled them up his legs. He took his time with them, in part because of their delicacy, but also in part because he figured that the feeling of them ascending his legs would be the best thing he felt all day. Once he got them mostly up his legs, he wiggled his hips from side to side as he brought the waistband of the control top to his waist. Bruce reached for his breast forms next. He affixed them to his chest before he held them snug to his body with one of the sports bras that Maureen had bought to keep his faux bosoms in place while he did his housework. Having finished padding out his body, Bruce decided to turn his attention to his hair and makeup. He styled his hair into a pixie cut since it was the only girlish looking style he could sport given its short length. While he wanted to keep it longer, Bruce knew it was impractical given the professional appearance required by his job. After finishing tying his hair up, Bruce retrieved his cosmetic bag. Maureen stirred in her bed and smirked at him before she mumbled, "Looking good, baby." Bruce paid her words no mind while he walked back into the bathroom, feeling the cool title floor beneath his nylon-covered feet again. Knowing his role, Bruce limited his makeup to give him an understated appearance. He evened out his skin tone and put on a pale lipstick on before he made sure that his eyelashes were curled. Feeling he looked presentable, Bruce went back to the motel room closet to retrieve his dress. As he stepped out of the bathroom, he noticed that Maureen was holding something in her hands. Bruce came to a stop as he asked, "What's that?" "It's an early Christmas gift," Maureen answered with a grin. Bruce turned on the light to the room and got a good glimpse of the pink dress in her hands. Maureen stood up and handed it to him. Bruce looked over the pink dress that was decorated with thin white vertical lines, as well as a white collar and sleeve caps. "Come on already. Put it on," Maureen ordered growing impatient with her husband. Bruce nodded as he stepped into the dress and brought it up his body. He could tell the dress was made from a cheap fabric that he felt befitted the occupation the dress was surely made for. After placing his arms through the sleeves, Bruce fastened the front button enclosures of the dress over his secured, faux bust. Maureen hugged Bruce close as she said, "You look perfect." "Nobody's ever called me perfect before," Bruce replied. "That's because they don't know this you," Maureen said with a grin before she squeezed his rear through his dress. Bruce jumped a little to her amusement. Maureen then shook her head as she noted, "You better get a move on. You don't want to be late for your first day." "Oh, yah, I'd hate to get fired," Bruce replied, rolling his eyes. Maureen's grin left her face while she stared at her husband and said, "Remember that these are my friends. I expect you to treat them with respect they deserve and do a great job for them. Don't embarrass me!" "Embarrass you?" Bruce asked, shocked by his wife's comment and stern tone. Maureen nodded before Bruce clutched his pink dress and said, "Do you see what I'm wearing right now?" A grin came back to Maureen's face before she said, "And remember to honor that dress by being the best damn maid you can be." Bruce stared vacantly at his wife for a moment before she barked, "Get a move on. You can't be late on your first day!" Bruce shook his head as he retrieved a pair of white canvas sneakers from the bag. He slipped his feet into them and tied the laces. He shook his head at the shoes. He hated wearing the sneakers, but he did so when he knew he was going to be working en femme for an extended period of time. With a sigh, he stood up and faced his wife. Maureen nodded at him before she said, "You need something else?" "What?" "I got it. It's so obvious." "What?" Bruce asked, trying to understand his wife certainty. "This," Maureen said as she retrieved a black apron. Bruce went to take it from her before Maureen said, "Let me do the honors for my little girl." "Could you not call me that?" "Sorry, girl," Maureen replied with a smirk. Bruce stood still while she placed the halter strap over his head before she tied the laces to the apron tight behind his back. After she finished, she took a step back away from Bruce to admire his appearance. "I wish I could go with you," Maureen said. "You can go in my place if you want," Bruce countered. Maureen shook her head, knowing how uncomfortable that would make her friends, despite how much she wished she could go in his place. She hugged him again and wished him a good day before she handed him his purse and pushed him out the door. As the door to the motel room closed behind him, Bruce started towards the steps in the morning sunshine. It was cold, but he had forgotten to bring one of his ladies' jackets. It was also a fact that Bruce realized was not lost on Maureen given how she had seen him out the door without the chance to let him pause to think that he should cover himself up. Bruce crossed his arms across his chest as he walked away from the building. He heard a person shouting to him. Bruce's heart raced as his head jerked over his shoulder to face the man who clearly believed that Bruce was working at the motel. Bruce listened to the man's request to clean something before he forced his voice to the most feminine register it could muster as he responded in a quivering tone, "I don't work here, Sir." The man gave Bruce a disbelieving look and muttered to himself as Bruce continued towards his car and started it. He quickly pulled out of the motel parking spot. Bruce then began driving to Paige's home. He put on the radio to try to forget what was in store for him that day, not wanting to think about it. Despite the music blaring, he found himself unable to keep his mind from drifting to how he would be serving his wife's friends that day and the next. His wife was adamant that it was going to be a permanent arrangement, at least in the near term. He wondered how her friends would treat him when they invariably dealt with him outside of his domestic role. Although, a part of him began to wonder if his wife would ever allow that again. Bruce parked in front of Paige's house and felt sick to his stomach. He peered up at her front door and wondered what he would deal with once he was between the house's walls. The realization that this was likely the easiest stop of the weekend was not lost on him. He was sure whatever degradations Paige forced upon him would pale in comparison to what Victoria did later that day or what he would experience the following day at Stella's house that was closer to his home. Bruce gazed around at the neighborhood to make sure that he did not see anyone outside. Soon realizing that it was a futile effort, and certain that it was as safe a situation as it could possibly be, Bruce opened his car door and swung his legs out of the car together. After he closed his car door, Bruce hurried to the steps of Paige's home and knocked upon her door. The sound of car coming down the street made Bruce turn his head away from the oncoming vehicle to hide his face while the cold late autumn wind blew up the skirt of his dress. Paige drew the door open and greeted the shivering man with a smile before she let him inside. Bruce looked around the small home with a sense of relief, knowing that it would not take him long to clean the place. Paige looked at Bruce before she said, "Moira, let me show you around." "Okay," Bruce replied, growing anxious for her to say something about he was dressed. She was simply ignoring it as if it was normal, which unsettled Bruce to some degree. "I just want to show you what I expect from you." Bruce nodded in response, feeling his manhood swell at her friendly, but matter of fact tone. She was telling him what to do. There was no mistaking it to Bruce. This was not an act with his wife. This was a person bossing him around in "real life" for the first time since his days in college. Paige led Bruce throughout the one story house, leading him through each of the six rooms of the home. As he was shown each room, Paige gave him a list of things she needed attending to in each room. Once she finished, she showed Bruce her cleaning supplies and let him get started in her kitchen. He started by cleaning off her countertops, brushing the crumbs off them with a paper towel in one hand into his other hand. After dumping the crumbs in the trash, he started wiping the counters down with a sponge. Pausing to let them dry, Bruce got on his hands and knees and began to clean inside of her oven. It was clear to Bruce that it been a while since she had it cleaned. His arms started to ache from the repetitive motions long before he finished with his task. He shook his head at the feeling, not enjoying the aches and pains of domestic labor the way his wife did at home. Bruce rubbed his pantyhose covered legs together to stir a feeling of something other than boredom and pain in his body. He smiled as his manhood started to stir at the feeling of the sensations while he finished cleaning the oven. Bruce then stood up and clutched at his lower back. The feeling of arousal dissipated instantly. Bruce shook his head, unhappy to know that he was going to be feeling quite a few more aches and pains throughout the day. He grimaced as he moved onto the other appliances and cleaned the outside of them with the cleaner before he went to the sink. Bruce looked at the sullied dishes and glasses that Paige had let build up. He hung his head and crunched his nose at the sight. Bruce searched for a pair of latex gloves to cover his hands for a second but found none. With a shake of his head and a disappointed huff, Bruce turned on the faucet and grabbed a sponge. He plunged his hands into the sink and began to rub the sponge against the caked on residue to scrub it off everything in it before he stuck what he cleaned in Paige's drying rack. Once he finished doing the dishes, Bruce washed his hands. He then retrieved Paige's mop and bucket. He filled the bucket with water and cleaner before he took to mopping the tile floors of her kitchen and bathroom. The pain in his lower back returned as he stood bent while he drew the mop across the floor. His endeavors at trying to stir a feeling of arousal failed despite the pull of his pantyhose with his motions and the distorted feminine reflection that looked back at him on the wet floor. Bruce proceeded to dust the living room furniture after he finished with the ceramic floors. Paige smiled as she passed him in the living room while he cleaned around her. Bruce felt uncomfortable working under her gaze, even though her expression was nothing but pleasant. As he finished, Bruce excused himself from her presence before he went into her bedrooms and cleaned the furniture in both rooms. Bruce cleaned each piece of wood furniture. He then turned his attention to Paige's bed and guest bed. He made them both before he took hold of the vacuum. He went through each bedroom floor before he carried the vacuum into the living room. Paige gave him a smile as she walked out of the room to let him finish cleaning it. Bruce waited for her to exit before he vacuumed that room as well. After he put away the vacuum, Bruce went into the bathroom and scoured the tub and toilet. With his body was already tired, he felt relieved to get off his feet for a few minutes while he cleaned. He then wiped down the shower walls, the outside of the toilet and the sink basin before he finished by cleaning off the vanity mirror. Bruce put away the cleaning supplies when he was done before he walked over to Paige to say goodbye to her. Paige smiled in response before she asked him to make her lunch. Bruce gave her a curious look, not knowing that he was going to be tasked with food preparation as well. After a pause, Bruce inquired, "What do you want?" "Just a sandwich. Make one for yourself too. I was thinking that you might work yourself up a good appetite today." "You might just be right," Bruce replied with a smile as he stomach growled. Bruce made them each a sandwich before he placed one before Paige. Paige thanked him for it before she asked him to get her a glass of ice tea. Bruce nodded in response as he went into her refrigerator and retrieved the pitcher. He poured them each a glass before he sat across from Paige and started to eat. "Have you heard from Maureen yet?" Paige inquired. Bruce shook his head in response. "She's takes this just as seriously as you, right?" "Way more," Bruce replied, shaking his head. "Really?" "I wouldn't be here, if it wasn't for her." "Give her my thanks then," Paige responded with a grin. "I will," Bruce replied. Paige nodded before she asked, "Does she really dress like a maid each weekend?" Bruce nodded with a grin. Paige shook her head before she said, "It just seems so strange. She's so educated." "You've seen it yourself." "True," Paige replied with a shrug before she added, "I always thought it was a cover for you." "I knew about her stuff long before I told her about my stuff," Bruce countered. Paige gave him a smile. Bruce felt that she did not believe him, and he wondered if his wife had noticed his predilections before he found the courage to admit them. "Does she like how you dress?" Paige asked. "I think so," Bruce responded, unsure how his wife truly felt about his cross-dressing to Paige's evident surprise. "Really? I know she likes embarrassing you about it." "Well...yes, I can't deny that," Bruce replied with a brief laugh. "This has got to be strange for her." "She's the one who offered." "Well, she's just trying to live it through you." "I know. If she could trade places with me, she would do it like that," Bruce replied with a snap of his fingers. Paige laughed as she said, "I don't know if she'd go for being a guy in a maid's dress." "As long as she was serving, I'd bet she would," Bruce retorted. "One period and you'd be begging to go back to the way things were," Paige noted with a grin. "Yah...I don't think I could be a real woman." "So, you just want to dress like one?" Bruce paused before he responded with a nod. Paige shook her head with a grin, not saying a word in response. Soon after, they finished eating and making small talk, Bruce cleaned up the kitchen table, dishes, silverware and glasses. Paige then kissed him goodbye on the cheek as she him out her door. Bruce gave her a wave as he made the walk back to his car. Bruce got into the driver's seat and started the car. He then began to make the 45 minute drive over to Victoria's home, unable to think of anything other than how hew would be treated by the woman. He knew he was in far worse with Victoria than he had experienced with Paige. Paige had a sweetness to her that was in stark contrast with Victoria's love of teasing and harassing people. While Bruce found Victoria humorous at times, he felt that she was outright mean at others. She was the only of his wife's friends that he wished that she would sever her friendship with at times. The prospect of working for her made him shudder. After pulling up in front of Victoria's house, he stared at it, trying to work up the will to open his car door. Several deep breaths and aborted efforts to reach for the handle on the door followed. He peered up at the door several times until five minutes had passed since he had pulled up before her home. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the front door of the house open. Victoria stepped onto her porch and glared at him with her hands placed firmly on her hips. Bruce cast his eyes down at his sneakers in response to her disapproving glare. "Let's get this over with," Bruce mumbled to himself before he got out of the car. Bruce waved slightly at the woman who pushed the door open for him. Victoria glared at him before she asked, "Why were you dawdling?" "I wasn't..." "First rule. When you clean for me, I'm always right. Got it?" Victoria chided. "Got it." Victoria nodded before she said, "Nice dress. I was expecting petticoats from you though." Bruce blushed at her words before he said, "Maureen picked the dress out." "It's professional for your type. At least she didn't let you go out with that whole sissy fetish thing." Bruce squirmed as he denied that he would choose such a thing. He disliked wearing dated apparel, much preferring more timely outfits that were truer to the styles that women presently wore. Victoria paid his words no attention as she led him around her home that was nearly twice the size of Paige's. Bruce was not surprised by that fact. Victoria had more drive than Paige had and worked a job with far longer hours and significantly better pay than her friend took home. The friendliness that accompanied Paige's orders was absent from Victoria's. She made no secret that she was treating him like the help and nothing more. That he was her friend's husband was going to be of no consequence when he was serving in her house. After showing him through the house, Victoria turned to Bruce and asked, "Are you ready to get started?" Bruce nodded before she barked, "Then, get to it." Bruce jumped a little from her stern tone, which made Victoria laugh. Bruce cringed at the mocking tone of her laugh before she asked, "Tell me, did that make your little dickie sprout up?" "No. Victoria," Bruce lied, humiliated by the fact that it did and that she knew it too. Victoria smirked before she said, "I can't have you calling me by my first name. Please refer to me by my last name. We are not friends. You're my employee, Moira. Understood?" "Yes, Ms. Shearer," Bruce replied, his manhood swelled again at submitting to her demand. With that, Victoria left Bruce to begin to cleaning her home. Bruce spent his time cleaning the home as he had Paige's. Unlike Paige's amused indifference to his presence, Victoria wasted no time in critiquing everything he did. As he finished the bathroom, not a single thing he had done met her standards. Bruce gave her an exasperated look as every little flaw was pointed out to him. Victoria seemed to take pleasure in rubbing his nose in his every failing. Even his wife was not as demanding in the rare instance when she played a domineering role. Once Victoria finished scolding him, she ordered him to do it all over again. Bruce mumbled curse words under her breath after she stormed out of the room to let him get back to cleaning it. He cleaned every inch of it once more with a knot in his stomach. He fretted about each wipe and scrub, worrying that some spot was hiding from his eyes. A sense of fear hung over him as he toiled for her. It was something that had been absent from his employment history. As he finished, he found his hands trembling. His back tensed as he stood up. With a fluttering stomach, he searched the home for Victoria. He paused when he finally saw her. Victoria raised her eyes from her tablet and stared at Bruce, waiting for him to say something. Bruce felt small in her presence. Even in her around the home clothing, she was impeccably dressed. Her elegant appearance from head to toe was in stark contrast to the uniform and canvas sneakers his wife had dressed him in for the day. Bruce struggled to find the will to speak. He cleared his throat, instantly regretting the sound he emitted, before he announced, "I finished with the bathroom, Ms. Shearer." "Did you? Did you really? Well, I'll be the judge of that, dear," Victoria replied as she got to her feet. Bruce followed behind her as Victoria stepped into the bathroom and looked over everything. She was expressionless as she reviewed Bruce's efforts and the way he had addressed each flaw she had pointed out. Finishing her inspection, she turned to Bruce and said, "Moira, this acceptable work. Not great work, but acceptable. I'm sure you'll do better with more practice." "Thank you, Ms. Shearer," Bruce replied, swallowing his pride as he processed her condescending words and tone. "In time, you might just earn the right to be really be worthy of that pretty pink uniform you're wearing yet." Bruce nodded again before Victoria replied, "Rule Number two of working for me. When spoken to, you must reply." "Yes, Ms. Shearer," Bruce responded, trying to fight off the erection that was growing between his legs. Victoria nodded before she turned and left Bruce without saying another word. Bruce then went about cleaning the rest of her home. After he finished with each room, Victoria went into it and inspected it before she invariably called him back into the room to fix some oversight or technical mistake he had made. Slightly more than midway through his cleaning, he heard a knock upon Victoria's front door. Bruce shrugged off the sound, figuring that it was somebody selling something or trying to raise money for a charity. Victoria answered the door and loudly greeted the person before she brought her inside. Bruce's heart started to race as her heard Victoria's friendly chatting with a woman whose voice he did not recognize. They came to a stop when the stranger caught a glimpse of Bruce. "Who's this?" The woman asked. "Oh, that's just my new cleaner. Come over here, Moira," Victoria ordered. Bruce shuddered while he turned around to face the woman. The woman gave him a surprised look as he turned and said, "Yes, Ms. Shearer." The woman gave Victoria an inquisitive look before Victoria said, "Sylvia this is my cleaner, Moira. Moira this is my friend Ms. Woodward." "Nice to meet you, Ms. Woodward," Bruce forced himself to reply. "You too," Sylvia replied, not extending her hand to greet her friend's cleaner. Sylvia gave Victoria a perplexed look. Victoria read the question on her face. "Sylvia, Moira is a transsexual." Bruce nearly spit up at the description of him. He blushed, mortified by being described as such. He was sure, however, that it was the most convenient and face saving description that could be attached to him at that moment. "Oh, that's, that's swell. Wow, that's got to be hard for you," Sylvia replied, collecting herself and trying to be nice. "Yes. It is," Bruce replied, trying to keep his interactions with the woman short. "That's partially why I hired her. You know how hard it is for girls like that to get a job," Victoria said to her friend, trying to sound magnanimous. "I bet," Sylvia replied, seconding her friend's sentiment before they excused themselves from his presence. Trying to repress his rage, Bruce turned away from the chatting women and went back to his labors. He cleaned the home around them. He actually grew happy about Sylvia's presence since Victoria seemed more reserved around her. She did not inspect anything he did and feigned niceness when he told them that he was leaving. As he approached the door to Victoria's home, Bruce came to a stop. He reached for the strings of the apron that his wife had tied around him that morning. He knew how much she wanted to wear them herself, and that he was wearing it for her. He untied the knot and pulled the apron away from his body. Bruce folded the apron over his arm and carried it out the door with his pocketbook. He walked to his car and sat down in it. He felt relieved to get off his feet as he pulled the car away from the curb in front of Victoria's home. Bruce drove back to the motel. He struggled to get up the stairs to his room before he closed the door to the motel room feeling exhausted. He slowly moved towards the bathroom and pulled off the cheap dress he had been wearing all day. After taking off his bra, Bruce slipped out of his sweat and dirt soiled pantyhose and hand washed them and his gaff before he stepped into the shower. The warm water felt good on his skin and helped wake him up. After washing out his hair, Bruce stepped out of the shower. Bruce dried himself off and made sure that every trace of makeup was off his face before he got dressed to go and visit Maureen at the diner. He clothed himself in his normal male clothing over a pair of form fitting, orange, yoga short-shorts and thick suntan pantyhose he had snuck away with him to amuse his wife. After drying his hair, Bruce walked out of the small motel room and drover over to the diner that Maureen had gotten a job with. Bruce smirked as he thought about what it was like going to see her at work at Hooters years earlier. He knew how much she enjoyed it, even while he was slightly upset to see her ogled by other men. As long as she was only his though, he had been confident enough to let her play the role she wanted out in real life. Bruce wondered what it would be like now. They were older and he was sure that her new uniform would leave far more to the imagination than Maureen's orange short shorts and suntan pantyhose of yesteryear had. Bruce came to a stop along the busy roadway before the diner and looked over the building. He immediately realized that it was more of a truck stop than the diner that Maureen had alluded to it being. He continued to shake his head as he walked into the building. The hostess looked up at him from behind the cash register. "I was looking for, Maureen," Bruce asked the girl. "Maureen?" The girl asked, confused by the name of the girl Bruce was requesting to see. "I've got it, Terri," a man said. "Kenneth," Bruce said with a laugh as he turned towards the grinning man. "How are you, Bruce?" Kenneth asked the man he had not seen in years. "Good. So, this is your place?" "This is my slice of heaven. I've had it for over six years now." "Really?" "Yup." "I would've never guessed it's been that long." "You don't like to think that it really is that long ago." Bruce laughed. He shook his head before he added, "I know. I know. I don't think Maureen likes to admit it either." "She probably wishes she could still w