You pull me into the house – into the big old formal living room with its high ceilings and dark casements. The soft late afternoon light filters through the drapes and cascades across the rugs. The clock sits unwound on the tall mantle – stopped so it doesn’t act as a competing metronome when I’m working. You stand before me fussing with your scarf and I think to myself that you are like a bay warmblood filly – a vision of loveliness. And you catch me watching you (this way I often do) and you smile and step to me and kiss my mouth – tenderly pushing my lips open with your insistent tongue while you unbutton my cardigan and loosen my tie. A languorous kiss. Then your smile again. ‘Shall we have a fire?’ I ask. ‘Yes, please – and a tonic and lime for you and a glass of wine for me, OK?’ ‘And then some supper, I think. And you can tell me about your classes and all the important news at the big, big school,’ I tease you. ‘Stop patronizing me,’ you laugh. ‘Interesting choice of words,. She handed me a lemonade and had me sit down. Two other women were also sitting there. They were a bit older than Janet, but not by much. One was a brunette who had a few smile lines around her eyes. Her hair was long and styled nicely. The other was a blonde with straight hair looked to be between the other two in age. "Brian," Janet said. "These are Mrs. King and Mrs. Minor. Betty, Nancy, this is Brian Erhard. He's been doing my lawn work, and is looking for more, right?" Yes, ma'am." I drank a bit. "Thanks for the lemonade," I said, remembering my manners."Why are you just now looking for business?" Mrs. King, the brunette, asked.I looked at her, she was thin, except for her breasts which were nice. She looked like the kind of person who worked out to keep in shape. Admittedly, it was difficult to focus, as my cock was hard and I just hoped no one noticed. All I could think about was Janet, and the condoms in my pocket. They felt like they were on fire in my pocket. "We just moved.
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