We get to her house and walk in. She takes me into the bedroom and turns me around to look at her. "I didn't bring you here to finish cutting you... hair. I already finished. I brought you here to take your mind off all the pain you've been going through these past few days." she says "how are you gonna do that?" I said playfully. She leans in and kisses me very very passionately and I kiss her back. My 7 and a half inch dick is rock hard at this point and I think she felt it because. One o’ clock came and went. Then two o’ clock came. Still no Lindsey. She wouldn’t have stood me up. I didn’t think she would. She had my number and could have texted me. I had almost started to doze off when I head the sound of the card sliding through the slot and the door opening. I opened my eyes and turned my head and there, in the doorway, was my sexy redheaded boss. “Thought you’d never get here,” I said, glancing at the clock. It was now ten minutes until three. “My daughter wouldn’t go. “Fucking bastard, couldn’t take no for answer. Grubby pervert puts me in with the fellas in here,” she mumbled to herself in her crisp white shirt and tight black trousers that showed off her amazing ass. “He thinks this will change my mind, let him put his sweaty paws down my pants. He's got another thing coming.”She passed a certain cell she was told to avoid: Anderson’s. More commonly known as James Anderson, he was a reputed bank robber who had morals. Never hurt or kill anyone, for him it. The yearning is redoubled. Behind it the fear still remains. She kisses my mouth and feeds me her tongue. Chills run through me. Anne does not make me swoon or lose myself. I want most of all to feed that yearning. Her little hand is dry and smooth once more. She takes mine and guides it between her legs. I feel the heat radiating from her. Her bush is soft and springy. It is even denser than the stripper's. It occurs to me that we might have seen a fake. Anne is real. She is only sixteen. I.