I didn't let on that I could see her and gave my cock a thorough washing to the point it got hard and of course I gave it some nice strokes, but not t... orgasm. This happened for a few more mornings and then she stopped, but continued to bring me my coffee.Our master bedroom was a wing off the house on the main floor that consisted of a hallway that passed a very large walk-in closet and the bathroom before you got to the bedroom.Several days went by and then one morning no coffee in bed and no. “Yes.”“Can you take shorthand?”“No. I just listen and type.”“I’m writing my memoirs.” He told me, “I need a typist; you need a job. What do you say? I’ll pay you $100 a week.”That was good money, and more than I’d been getting as his son’s secretary / mistress.“I don’t have anywhere to live.” I told him.“Live with me, there’s a spare room.” He offered. “It will be a lot of hours though. I’m not a 9 to 5 man. When it’s done, go on to San Francisco with better preparation and more savings.”We. More

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