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My hand found my breastand I touchedfor only a moment before I realized what I was doing and stoppedbefore I was caught."Mistress, your bath is ready". She looked up, smiled, kissedTom and with a quick caress of his semi hard cock, she walkedpast me into the bath. "Diane, go pick out some lingerie and anice night gown and robe set for me to wear and then take Tominto your old bathroom and assist him in his showering." "Yes ma'am". And with that, I left the bath room as she loweredherself into the tub.I went to her dresser, and as I searched, Tom watched me with disturbingattention. He did not say anything, but I could feel his eyes onme. I bent down into the lower drawers and as my ass was exposedin the sexy panties, I finally found her favorite black lace braand panty set, a semi sheer baby doll with matching robe. I gother 4 inch black patent stilettos out of the closet and when Icame back in to the bathroom, here eyes were closed and paid meno mind or attention. After lovingly. It wasn’t that she was just smoking hot, it was that there was something a little sad and mysterious behind her dark, confident eyes. Additionally, it was Nick’s, and almost every hockey player’s fantasy, to do it in a locker room. Not that that was actually going to happen, he thought, as he waited for her to finish aimlessly looking around the room and respond to his question.Nick retreated a little bit, toward his gear, so he could sit down on the bench and look right to face her as she spoke. She was still about ten or fifteen feet away from her, and he didn’t want to come on strong and freak her out. Plus, she seemed younger, and a bit hyperactive—being in such a testosterone-filled place and all. She giggled. “No, no, I mean, no, I’m not. Once, a long time ago, but yeah, no, I’m not. I just wanted to give him something he left at my house.” She smiled and motioned to her pocketbook. “Oh, I’m Jessica.” She blushed at forgetting the obvious, and took a step closer toward.
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She was sympathetic, naturally, but nervous, as if she maybe thought whatever I’d got was catching. In bed that night she held me with a tenderness unusual for her. I lay awake thinking for the first time about what I could do for the next month. I’d always believed that I had a great novel in me: now my employers had given me the window of opportunity to get down to writing it. And when I was a kid I’d shown some talent for art. I’d always thought the East River view would look great in a watercolor, or maybe a pencil sketch. I decided that CNHP hadn’t stabbed me in the back: in reality they’d helped me find myself. Yeah, right. The next day, Friday, I was still in bed at two in the afternoon, having unable as yet to motivate myself to leap into the wonderful new life I was going to build. Finally, I was roused by noises from another room. Clearly our Filipino cleaner, Percela, had arrived — she came in twice a week. Realizing I’d have to give her access to the bedroom I dragged.

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