He was close to me and I could smell his sweat, he was overweight, balding, and always looked as if he never washed.'What's going on Bob', I asked him...calmly, his tongue was constantly licking his lips, I was picking up on the littlest of his nuances, his eyes were focusing on my breasts, which I have to admit were more fleshy as my housecoat was open, 'Bob what the fuck are you thinking', I asked him forcibly, 'You're beginning to worry me', and I rose not realizing my nipples were now on. Why in heavens name did he have to get up this early? Then he remembered he had an early appointment and struggled to pull himself from his bed. He walked, stumbled mostly to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. He splashed his face with water and looked at himself. His silver blue eyes cast a hard gaze at his patrician facial features. His sandy blonde hair was messed up from tossing and turning all night in his pitiful attempt at sleep. He yawned once more and got in to the shower.. More

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