After what seemed like an hour, but was probably only a minute, she said that she would be fine with that, but that she had a request. I was caught off guard by a request, but asked her what it was anyways-turns out all she wanted was a shower. I said that’s cool, and we headed to my room. She took a shower, and when she was finished I did the same. When I walked into the room I saw her sitting there naked reading Super Hot Sex, a book I had picked up to improve my stroke. I took the book away from her and kissed her deeply, which she returned in equal force. As I was kissing her and exploring her curves, her hands were doing the same to my body. I started heading south with my kisses, caressing her tits while I sucked her nipples for a short time. Then I began heading south, kissing her chest, and down her stomach, and then I started kissing along her inner thighs. At this point she was glistening wet, and it was all I could do not to go straight for her pussy-but I wanted more. Afterwards I explored the back hallway I had seen off the kitchen. The narrow nondescript corridor led to what had been back in the day, the live-in servants quarters. Two rooms were vacant. The third was evidently Jameson’s. I saw a pressed butler’s uniform hanging by the door. The fourth door was closed. I heard familiar jazz music coming from within the room. I listened, recognizing the artist. I knocked on the door and the music volume immediately rose responsively. I lifted my knuckles to knock again, but said the hell with it. I went back to the study, found a book and read. Later I watched TV and decided I wasn’t in the mood for the Micky Mouse Club.I decided to venture to the club downstairs.Just after five o’clock the main floor was already raucous. I sat down at the bar and had a beer. I turned in the swivel seat watching the goings on. At a table, a short distance from the bar, an older well dressed man had pulled a gigging waitress to his lap. He had his hand under her.
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