"The best you can hope for is madam hand and her four daughters you dirty old cunt. I'm coming to see you after work, phone your wife and tell her you...ll be late." With that the line went dead. I couldn't help myself. I dared to hope that what I wanted to happen, would. I phoned my wife and told her I'd be late, nothing unusual. My cock was straining. It'd been hard since my call to Sam earlier. At five I locked up and turned off the lights and waited. Being the dirty sod I am I started. Monique said to dress well, and after my little self-inflicted orgy, I guess this is the best I can do. She noticed suddenly that the curl that usually hung down on her left shoulder was missing. What a careless nit, she scolded herself. How could I have cut that off? I thought I had been careful when I trimmed my hair last night on the train. Before she could pursue the thought any further, she heard Monique's familiar voice outside the door, calling to her to join her downstairs at the desk. More

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