Anon is the young heir of House Kentucky, whose childhood was spent mourning his parents' death and trailing after the lone servant tasked to take care of him while the rest of the staff were busy. Renee was his favorite, given that she was only a handful of years his elder, and always pocketed sweets for him.
As of recent, he found his gaze trailing after Renee, longer and longer. He notices things he never thought twice at before -- like how Renee's uniform seems a little small for her. How it wraps just so around her waist, and the skirt ends just shy of her thighs. Another time, he is unable to look away when she brushes her hair up into a ponytail, and he can't stop thinking about the long line of her neck. He deigns not to mention to anyone else, thinking that it'd go away soon enough, and a shag is not worth it if it means that he'd lose the one maid who'd actually been loyal to him over the years.
Today he's awakened by the sound of drawers being opened. It is not unusual, because Renee always clears it up, but it’s strange not to be woken by daylight.
Anon turns to look at her, and freezes. Renee was bent over the drawers. He gets an image of pushing her forward, his things be damned, and just press up against her to be done with it, but waves it away. It almost doesn't work, because a few more moments of staring make him realize he's not just staring at the backs of her smooth thighs. The skirt obscures most of it, but it's unmistakable. She's not wearing anything underneath, and the realization brings his cock to attention. He tries to stay silent, transfixed, but the rustling of sheets is distinct enough in a quiet room, and Renee looks up from her task.
"Monsieur, good morning," she says, smiling a little.
"Err, yes, good morning," Anon says, hoping that his condition is unnoticeable enough. He can't stretch, and Renee looking down at him like this is worse. She's wearing another small uniform, and if she so much as breathes, he immediately notices the way he can fit his hands around her waist. She is framed lovingly by the light as she gets to opening the windows, and it is such a beautiful picture he can't help but say, "You're not wearing your underwear."
It was a statement, not a question, and Renee flushes a deep red. Her hand flies to her skirt, as if to smooth it down, but the movement emphasizes the strain it has on her chest. Anon can't look away, following the trail of it. Renee seems to redden even further at the attention, so he coughs and looks away.
"Apologies, Monsieur. I... seem to have forgotten."
"It's fine," he says, but it sounds strained, even to him. He clears his throat. "Don't do it again?"
Renee nods, and before he could say anything else, she flees the room with red ears, forgetting to keep her skirt down again, so he sees a quick flash of her ass.