But she left a note and my folded fifty.Bob,I don't know when I have felt more loved, or safer from harm, in someone's arms than I did last night. I w...ill never forget last night. It was the highlight of my life, and for that, I thank you. As for my tip at supper, I couldn't, in all fair conscience, keep it. You gave me something that is worth much more than money; you gave me some self-respect and the knowledge that I am a better person for having met you.Forever grateful, Samantha. " Ah, a sportsman! "Want to come in and clean up?" Sure." He got up and toddled/lurched into the house. I picked up the spoon and followed."What was he doing?" asked Weena. "He's filthy." Digging for worms with the spoon so he could go fishing with Rob." Ah. I suppose that demonstrates advanced learning, eh? I guess I'll bathe him before dinner."In the evening Martha asked whether I'd be in the office on Friday and whether she could come and talk to me 'about a problem.' We set it up for 10:30. She wasn't hungry. I looked at her. She looked nice. Dressed like a student again. Short black skirt. Thick black pantyhose. Sensible flat shoes. Black crew-neck sweater. White blouse under neath. Breasts looked about 34b. She was slim with good legs. Short blonde hair, done in cheap Eastern European style.She still had the defiant look on her face. She offered me more money to do it her way. But I brushed it aside. I ordered a long cigar and smoked and watched her through the smoke. Savouring. A low moan revealed the utter pleasure she was providing. The baby oil was a perfect lubricant, as her hand felt so soft and perfect kneading my shaft. She gently pulled her palm over my cockhead, causing my hips to jerk in response. "Sensitive, are we," she looked up at me and smiled. I looked down at her, not believing that my masturbation fantasy was actually doing the masturbating for me. "I love what you're doing to me." I responded in a small, soft voice. "I've never felt anything.