“Excellent, tell me do you have any silver or paintings?” I asked. “Oh very well,” The housekeeper relented, her eyes fixed on the Butler’s cock, “If I must,” and she sat on the end of the table and raised her skirts. “Keep that away from me!” the housekeeper protested. I ***********ed the young ones, “You, you and you, you should be playing hide and seek not working so away with you and play in the gardens!”
They looked at each other dumbly. “At six of the clock precisely,” I added. It was my chum Stanley Albright. It was my chum Stanley Albright. “Possibly, where is your master?” I asked. I did a quick count. They conjoined, not without some difficulty but with two burly lads positioning the housekeeper and my knee against the Butler’s backside somehow his sad pudgy erection was persuaded to enter her surprisingly moist cunt. I sought the comeliest serving wench, “You,” I said, “Pop your melons out, slip your smock to your waist and show the Butler what he is missing.”
She gasped.
