I was supposed to ring the bell but my maid stopped me and said, “Don’t ring the bell. I have the keys and aunt will be waiting inside the bedroom...for you”.Now we went inside and my maid pushed me inside the door of the flat.We both came inside and went to the kitchen. She asked me to remove the clothes there and wear an underwear which had tiger prints on it.I told her, “I will wear this but then I need my dick to be hard before I go inside.” So I asked the maid to give me a blowjob. She gave. Certainly not arousing.The other realisation was perhaps more profound: this simply wasn't herhusband. Oh, if she looked closely enough, she could still recognise hisold facial features. The timbre of the voice might be different, but theaccent and speech patterns were still the same. And some of the movementsand gestures were hauntingly familiar. But absolutely none of the oldspark seemed to have survived. There was simply nothing there of the manwho had charmed, inspired and at times. I watched him get dressed and then he wandered off int the bushes.i went back to my spot and carried on fishing but i couldnt get the naked man out of my mind.that night when we went home ,i had a shower and went to bed and wanked thinking of the naked swimmer.The next morning we were up again down the river fishing and again i went for a wander ,to see if he was there and sure enough he was .i watched him swim and when he came out of the water sure enough he was naked and yes i got turned on. First, no one appreciated my idea of a fun family vacation. Secondly, the circuitous route needed to get there was nearly impossible for our family SUV to manage. The roads were terrible and we had a flat on the way out. I had a spare but a second car problem could have been fatal in that remote wilderness.Still, something about this remote site drew me, and since then I've been a frequent visitor to the old Ghost Town. In fact this soon became my primary 'disposal area' for bodies, guns, and.