The Institute's president, Sir Bristow Merriweather, had been knighted for his work at Buckingham Palace East on the shores of the Indian Ocean after the completion of the Ganges-Indus Canalisation. He had steered the Institute to its current pre-eminence. His office was on the first floor, directly over the portico of the main entrance. Harwell and I sat waiting for our appointment in a comfortable ante-room.Exactly at the time agreed for our appointment, the door to Merriweather's office opened and a tall, negro woman – I adjudged her to have come from the southern African colonies – emerged. She cut an imposing figure, dressed very much to my own tastes in a high-necked blouse with leg-of-mutton sleeves and a long straight skirt that clung closely to her hips and thighs. About her neck she wore a thin gold chain from which hung, like a medallion, a heavy piece of gold in the shape of some Chinese character or other. Her height was evidently contributed to by the heels on the boots. Being that she was still my mother-in-law and I was her son-in-law, waiting for her to take the first step or give me a sign of encouragement, I didn't want to make Christine afraid to stay with me. Fearing that I'd ruin things should Samantha return, I didn't want her mother telling her daughter that I made a pass at her. Better the other way around with her making a pass at me, having to be content with lusting for her while masturbating over her, we discussed the weather instead."Good morning, Stephen," she said returning my eagerness with her kiss. "Yes, not as hot as yesterday, the weatherman said that it still may hit ninety degrees."When I closed my eyes to kiss her, I imagined I was in bed with her naked and making love to her. When I closed my eyes to kiss her, I imagined she loved me as much as I loved her. Sadly and frustratingly, she was talking about the summer weather being hot when my temperature for her was already boiling. Eventually adding color to our friendship,.
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