I was in Mr. Blackwell’s office at five o’clock in the morning, in meetings from six until two in the afternoon, at my desk until nine and working with Mary King until ten thirty. I hit the market on the way home, prepared two meals and crawled into bed with my husband, who seemed to have rediscovered his appetite for making love. I was exhausted, but happier than I’d been in ages. Sleep seemed such a small priority, hardly worth the effort. My only regret was the time spent with Isabella. I hate to waste time, for time is a precious commodity. The woman did nothing to hide her contempt for me. She did even less to improve my skills. It was difficult to hold my tongue and even harder to keep from retching from the stench of her cologne. Mary, on the other hand, was a joy to work with. Her skills were phenomenal, and she shared them comfortably and generously. Her perfume was French, and as exquisite as her extensive wardrobe. It was a bittersweet day when we both realized that I was. Now be a deer and grab me a beer... a cold one!!!” He said with a grin and I made my way to the kitchen. I got a cold beer and pored myself a glass of white wine to help me get through this. Stepping back in the living room I saw my master had stripped his pants and had a seat on the couch, patting the seat next to him and waiting for me. I walked over handed him the beer, he smiled politely for once, and I sat down next to him crossing my legs very lady like, as the nylon on my legs made a swish sound, which I have no doubts he heard judging by the twitch in his bulge. We sipped our drinks and he scooched over nearer to me, right until his leg was touching mine and I gave him a fake smile. “So I see you followed my orders sweetheart” running his hand up my nylon legs and back down again repeating this motion a few times. “Oh I dress up like this every day don’t think I did this for-“ I didn’t manage to finish my sentence before his mouth pressed on to mine and we were kissing.
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