For bob-a-job week. Or maybe you’d like some cookies?”I held out the Tupperware box. She looked down, confused, then back at me. She looked round ...he lane again and beckoned me inside. I followed her down the hall to the lounge, my eyes on her tight ass, where she sat on the sofa, crossing her legs, her robe falling open. Now I saw properly what she wore: a red basque, slutty red fishnets, red spiked heels - and no panties. Mrs Robertson patted the sofa and I went to sit beside her, my knees. But I knew the trouble he had gone through to get his business established. While I was going through my medical problems, he was on the verge of bankruptcy. I was fumbling my way through divorce, and he was just getting his business in order. He was finally making a profit in his company, and I was about to lose my job. "Oh, one more thing..." I had not finished my story. "The publisher I was working for is closing. I only have a job for three more weeks." I smiled, "They owed me four weeks. More

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