"We did it last night. We did it three times. Four times. I can't remember how many times, but we did it and it was fantastic and I'm so sorry, but I ...ouldn't resist."And, of course, she started crying.Well, that fucked up things good and proper, let me tell you. My not-so-carefully planned speech about responsibility and self control never got past my lips. Meanwhile Ashley and Emma went through various stages that included empathy for their crying friend, which involved hugging her, and anger. The weight of my Master’s arm on my waist, his groin pressed into my ass, it all made me want to touch myself. I didn’t know if I dared. I thought if I stayed as still as possible, I might be able to play just a little. My clit grew hard at the thought. I reached down and started playing with the little button. I pressed my finger under the hood and drew tiny circles. When I felt Master stir, I froze. Eventually, though, my thoughts would return to last night and the honor he did me by allowing. You do what they ask, if y'will. Oh, and y'can eat in the kitchen with the other help."So I moved furniture, cleaned rugs, hauled trunks from attic to basement and back, made repairs, cut firewood, and found several dozen other long-delayed jobs that every home accumulates. The cook and cleaning girl thought it was very funny to see me hurry from one task to another, sweating and striving."What's your reward, then?" asked the cook, wiping her hands on her apron."Get it in heaven," I said with a. Could I, and would I, make love with this woman who was not my wife, but was the wife of a long time friend? We had come so close and we each now knew the special, unique taste of the others sex. Would it be only a matter of time?Fate has a way with life and I sure got a surprise when I got back home to Virginia. My boss was rearranging some sales territories and wanted me to move to North Carolina. This was an opportunity I gladly accepted. I continued my normal “rounds” but told my customers.
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