“Of course, Mrs Jenkins. What’s the problem? And you know you don’t need to ‘sir’ me.”“No, sir. It’s me granddaughter. I know Miss Ros...na has left you, and I wondered if you might want another girl to help.”“Well, I had been thinking about it.”“The thing is, she’s a bit of a handful, you may have heard that she was abused by her father and he’s been locked up for it, but she blames her mother, and well ... she’s sixteen and she needs something to do. Most employers take one look at her and say. Hope you're having a good time at the party." I am but I might have drunk too much and might need a ride home later." We have a couch down in the basement you're welcome to use. That way you can party longer. You need to have some fun."I thanked Martha and switched back to the punch. Since I was staying the night I didn't have to worry about driving. I started spending more time with Sandy. I had found out that she was divorced for about a year. She was married for ten years but it didn't work. Again, we kissed, her tongue pushing into my mouth much more forcibly than before. Again, I felt her nipples prodding me. Still, my focus was on an entirely new sensation, one I had never felt before. Down below, just below my belly button, was this amazing warmth, this wetness. She was rubbing herself on me. I know it was just my tummy, but it was incredible. God, she was soaked, and those juices washed away any lingering fears and doubts. Without warning, she broke our kiss, her lips. Was it evil of her, she thought, to already be thinking what price to put on them before putting them on display? But, no, mentally slapping her bad angel, any customer wanting these flowers would have to pry them out of her dead claws. ‘Well, then, happy early Valentine’s Day,’ he said. ‘I guess I should leave you to work on your problem and call back after Valentine’s Day.’ ‘Yes, I guess so,’ she said, the regret evidence in her voice. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a grouch. I hope to be in.
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