I left my upstairs office and walked down to the main floor and approached them. ‘Good morning, may I help you?’ I asked. ‘Yes … thank you. We...are considering remodeling our kitchen. We need some advice,’ the attractive middle-aged woman said. ‘I’ll be glad to help. My name is Tory Payne? I work in the design department,’ I said. ‘Oh … I’m Margaret Lee and this is my husband, Walter,’ she said looking carefully at me. ‘Do I know you? Your name sounds familiar.’ I shrugged. I looked at them both. .Dean`s reply that he`d just gotten home from church with his wife and k**s and was about to eat lunch left me a little deflated, but I persisted. I messaged that I was thinking of going for a quiet couple of drinks at a nearby bar, although at this stage I`m not quite dressed properly. This peaked his interest and when he asked what I was wearing right now I told him I`d send a picture. I took a selfie of my breasts bulging out from my bikini and quickly sent it to him. After waiting more than. " I was glad he gave me permission, I really needed one at that point. I lit a cigarette and the man rolled down the window for me. I didn't know his name. I wasn't sure I wanted to know his name. I inhaled the smoke sharply and kept it in my mouth for sometime before blowing it out of my mouth. I was becoming increasingly nervous. I needed more than cigarettes. Just when my nerves were becoming a bit too much we pulled into the drive way of a large house. We were definitely outside of London.. He was looking up at me, his face was ruddy and sweaty, 'I know what you need, Miss Mariel', and suddenly his hand was caressing the back of my thigh, only this time my feet were placed at his regimental eighteen inches apart, a distance he often quoted, he would insist on before administering the cane across a pair of desirable feminine buttocks.He had a weird looking smile on his lips, 'Stroke, stroke stroke', he muttered, his hand venturing higher with each mouthing, I remained calm, but.
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