It’s always better to do it face to face. ‘ I have to go now, so I will see you later,’ he winked at her, saw him leant over the screen and the screen went blank. Aida looked at the clock to see that it has only just passed a little after nine. She decided to wash up and clear her unpacked boxes and maybe get some breakfast before she explores her surrounding. Half an hour later, Aida stepped out of her room to the hallway and there were already some servants seeing to the daily chores about the house doing their work quietly and efficiently. A handsome woman in her late fifties approached her with a warm smile on her face to greet her. ‘Good morning Mrs. Jefferson, can I get you any breakfast?’ said Mrs. Timont before she added hastily. ‘We met briefly yesterday.’ ‘Yes, yes… I remember now, you must be Mrs. Timont, and good morning to you too,’ said Aida returning the greetings warmly. Yesterday had been such a harried day for her that everything seems a blur. ‘Oh, by the way you. Hell, knowing her, she’d probably had him moving in round the back while poor old Daddy trudged off down the drive, all his worldly possessions bound up in a red and white spotted hanky.‘Home” is in West Yorkshire, by the way. Since going to university I’d rarely been back. The weekend before had been only the fifth time I’d visited in over two years. And believe it or not, I’d dashed home to console Mother, who’d phoned to tell me Daddy had walked out on her.What a lying bitch!Anyhow, that’s enough of my family’s predicament for the time being; let’s get back to the sex.Sorry, how Freudian of me! Let’s get back to the story.And, as added background, I’m going to begin shortly before the evening’s first blowjob . . .Chapter TwoAs a born and bred Yorkshire lass I should have known better but, fooled by glorious Indian summer weather “down south”, I’d caught my Friday afternoon train wearing a short black skirt, a skimpy white T-shirt and very little else . . . unless you count my black.
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