“Just making sure I understand my job. I’m supposed to make the money...”“You’ve already done that,” she interjected.“ ... and you’re ...upposed to spend the money.”“Precisely.”“And I get what out of this deal?”The answer was a detailed description of what was going to happen later that evening, and what would happen much more frequently on vacation, even during daylight hours. As expected, I caved in and agreed. We would do something in the springtime. We had already been to the Bahamas and to. I was wanking. I cupped my aching balls, letting them know I was about to release them all over the shower cubicle door. My soapy hands worked back and forth, my fingertips teased the entrance of my ass. The thought of her slipping her petite finger inside of my ass sent me crazy. I was wanking harder and faster. “Sorry, Mr. Carson. Are you nearly done? I need to pee,” came the embarrassed giggle from outside of the bathroom door. I was standing with an engorged prick in my hand, fisting myself. More

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