"She opened her eyes slowly, adjusting to the lights of the office, "Ah, thanks Mr. Winters. I must've dozed off, I'm sorry. Must've had a few to drin... too. You wouldn't happen to have anything for a headache would you?"I thought for a moment, then nodded, "Sure, we always keep some in the break room. Here, drink some of this and get the morning taste out of your mouth a bit and I'll be right back."She nodded, "Thanks Mr. Winters."I smiled, "It's no problem. Please, call me Rick. We've been. Well, then I got all surly and muley and said, "If I won't take shit from my trash customers, what makes you think I'll take shit from a lard assed pecker head like Walt Deaver?"My good natured Em's usually sweet and carefree face started to cloud up and storm over when the phone in the kitchen rang and Connie answered it."Why Mister Deaver. How nice to hear from you. No. Did he really say those things to you? He told you to go and ... and then he hung up on you? My. I can't understand how. The images of Caroline’s naked body in the sun would not leave his head, sometimes mixed in with images from her younger days, when her fiery red curls had first intoxicated him. He needed her now, he needed to breathe her scent. He squeezed his cock hard and felt how it had grown in such a short time. Then he remembered, of course, he could have her scent and with that rushed towards the stairs up to the guest bedroom. It was busier than usual, the four poster bed, clean sheets left slightly. Waiting, she remembered two terrible incidents that had happened to her over the past year. At Christmas time she had delivered pizza to a couple of college boys who had invited her in, slipped her strong wine and then violated her body. She shamefully remembered co-operating rather vigorously. She was too ashamed to tell anyone and blamed it on exhaustion and the booze. She had never been able to tolerate even a little booze. Later, at Easter, she had been delivering chocolate treats at a.
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