She read how the vicar’s wife would wait until her husband was out practising his sermons in the nearby churches before enticing the gardener into t...e house, often by standing naked in front of the tall windows until he caught sight of her. The gardener was fifteen years her junior at the age of twenty five, and by all accounts a strapping fine figure of a man. The vicar’s wife had spared little detail about the size of his member, describing it as: ‘Twice the size of my husband’s, and so. .." She gestured vaguely at the chairs, in which three other people were already waiting for somebody.I sat, feeling a little uneasy. I hadn't quite thought this through as much as I'd considered I had. I'd been expecting to have to go through a screening process, but not quite this extensive with names being passed up a whole ladder of minions. Weren't politicians supposed to be accessible? Evidently that applied only at lower levels or in campaigns. And would Golden even recognize my name? Or. "That was nice," he said, rubbing my cheek with his hand. "But it doesn'tcount. I've kissed you before." I was shocked. I wouldn't have asked him todo that if I had known that it wouldn't count!"But..." I grasped for straws. "It WAS something new. Because, this time,you kissed me immediately after I had your filthy, stinky sock in my mouth.I was trying to prove to you that my mouth self-cleans, that the bad tastedoesn't remain in my mouth even for a second!" I already knew that, too!" he said.. You can't keep buying a pair of jeans for every week. Mom and Dad don't have that money. Here. Put your old jeans on and go get a couple of sizes up or something." She looked at me with sad puppy-dog eyes. However, she obeyed and took off her trial jeans and started putting back on her old ones. But they got stuck too. "Uh-oh," she said. "No, you couldn't have grown that big in five minutes," I said. But despite that, her old jeans which she wore successfully in this store weren't coming to her.