I was now sure she was a hooker, or was she. My years in the Police made me suspicious of her demeanour and the way she spoke. I am a retired cop in m... early fifties and previously worked undercover catching prostitutes.She asked me if I fancied some fun and set out the cost of full sex at £20. I replied that I was a happy married man, to that she replied that she would not tell my wife.I managed to start up a general conversation with her asking her why she did this type of work etc and her. We left London behind us and moved to the coast where I was now Director of a construction company. Life was good, plenty of money, nice house, cars and so on. All the stuff that goes with the position. We would have liked a few k**s, but one of us it seemed, was unable. Just as well I suppose, k**s have a tendency to stifle the romance of living and fucking.I digress again.One of the perks of having no money worries was being able to buy a huge place. Five bedrooms, a garage for three cars and. He walked around the desk and held out his hand.'Hi, welcome to the school. I'm Andrew Michaels and you’re Nicole, I believe? Is that what you prefer?'His handshake was firm and friendly; not trying to crush my fingers or one of those limp handshakes that make you cringe.'Nicole is fine, but most people call me Nikkie,' I said.'OK, Nikkie it is, if that's alright. You can call me Andy, but sometimes we may have to be a bit more formal. Please, sit down. Can I get you a cup of coffee?'Nice. Since our shower episode, she flirted with me and teased me at every opportunity. As much as I hated to admit it, I enjoyed the sexual flirting between us. It was a weirdly major turn-on.My bladder was so full I started to leak and dribble. I gritted my teeth and tried to stem the flow. I didn't have time for an argument, so I raced to pull my prick out of my pants as quickly as possible. It was a photo finish. The floodgates opened just as the head of my dick cleared my fly.My knees trembled.