If, and only if, Amy agrees, I can work out a barter system for cleaning your house, cooking meals and even doing the laundry,” I said quickly. “...hat kind of barter?” Drew asked skeptically. “Well I am thinking on the fly here, but how about something like this?” I asked. 1. Light straightening of the entire house in exchange for a hand job from Amy. 2. Heavy cleaning including vacuuming in exchange for a blow job from Amy. 3. Clean the three bathrooms for fucking Amy. 4. Wash, dry and put. In summary, Patrizio had been very successful and owned a villa on Lago Maggiore where he and Marco lived very happily. In his early seventies, he had found contentment.Although I lived alone, I assured Patrizio that I was also content.At around two a.m., Patrizio finally left, apologizing for his travel exhaustion. He had booked into a hotel for the night, not knowing what my reception would be.Without hesitation, I told him to book out and report at my home the following day, an invitation he. Just five words. And what she whispers is this: “It’s just one night, hen.”The sun sets. The bedroom is dark and the night has come. I twist in the sheets, trying to make myself comfortable. My hair and body are wet. Was I in the bath? Or did I imagine it? The mirror is still above me but now the glass is frosted. The tingling warmth in my lower body is growing stronger. I kick back the damp sheets. I stroke my nipples: I circle each areola, gently pinch each teat. Then I can bear it no longer. What do you think?" It's beautiful." I said. "I really love it."She took a small bottle of perfume out of her handbag, dabbed it on the top of her breasts where they were exposed above her dress and began to rub it over the tops of her breasts with her fingertips.She rubbed her fingertips lazily over the tops of her breasts, pressing just hard enough to dent them, and in the shallow valley between them. I just stared at those finger tips moving on her breasts.She leaned over close to me again.