....and step daddy were bailing her out. Ihad not even met her until she arrived two weeks ago, now that was ashock. I could tell why she was a dancer...; she had a body to die for.Rather embarrassingly when I first met her she gave me a hard on fit toburst much to my shame. She settled in as if she owned the place and muchto my dismay wanted to be waited on hand and foot by us, well mainly me!Now I was going to be on my own with her for a week!"Why do you have to go," I complained."Because I am. When I arrived at 10am Mr Walden was walking around in a bath robe and Mrs Walden hadn’t even got out of bed. The kitchen and Lounge room were a mess. “Sorry Fiona, the party left a mess. Maybe make coffee, lots of it, while I go and see if I can get my wife out of bed” he said and disappeared. I made a big pot of coffee and put out three cups. Looking around I figured I needed coffee as well. The Walden’s hadn’t appeared so I began in the lounge room. Collecting glasses and plates. I could be. One day while the team were having a drink after a match Abigail came across to me and asked me where I brought all my underwear. Not having a clue where Becky had bought it I said that I got it from various places. Suddenly not wanting to waste what might be a chance of getting close to Abigail, I said that I thought she would look beautiful in some of my underwear because she had such a stunning body. She looked a little embarrassed but smiled. Oops, I thought. My male brain had taken over. Watched her slip her hand down into her suit trousers to correct something uncomfortable, or so he thought at the time until she continued with an arm pumping movement. He had watched her lean against her wall and worked herself into a frenzy. He had seen the glistening sheen of sweat that had appeared on her brow. His hardness had slammed into him as she had moved her hand to her lips after and licked them clean. She serviced herself once or twice a week now, usually when it was knock off time.