“Boy, I want to, but we got everybody waiting,” she sighed. “Maybe when I bring y’all home Monday...”We were walking to the plane.“When’...s YOUR Stearman gonna be there?”“Talked to Mister Jester Friday. Next week’s looking good.”“Really? You excited?”“Kinda,” she said. “Real flying. This thing’s almost like a video game. Literally on autopilot most of the time.”“I need to think about that,” I said.“You choose what you like, then think about how to do more of it.”That, as I watched Haley and Bill. After moving around her, I looked at the pressure gauge, which was way too high, and cleaned out the trap, which was clogged with bits of leaves and grass. As I kneeled to screw the top back on the trap, my dick, which had wilted enough to move around, slipped down along my leg. Karen, who had bent over (that cleavage again!) to look at what I was doing, didn't seem to notice anything. However, as I tried to shift my member around and it hardened in reply, she seemed to catch on and smiled a. I just had to try and remind her. "Oh my god...look at you..." her hands flexed and her eyes went softer, they almost glazed and she licked her lower lip."Mrs. J,..c'mon.." I murmured. She dropped her hands to her sides and shook her head, but she didn't move away. I stepped over to her and took her hands, I raised them and put them on my chest. She let out a low moan and splayed her fingers out over my pecs, then she rubbed my chest and whimpered. "Oh Joey,..honey..." she sounded so torn. The afternoon dragged as I tried to immerse myself in paperwork.But the dissipating wine buzz and complimentary migraine almost made me forget—four o'clock, today, was the scheduled time and date. The unexpected discovered me. Erotic phone chat became a recent, secret, diversion during the past two weeks. It was different, to say the least, sexy and mysterious. While I was at the office, an unsolicited, anonymous, cell phone harlot called me to schedule our twice-a-week sessions. Always.