I joked about early morning Skypes carrying the risk of being embarrassed. I told my mother, "Well at least the embarrassment would stay between us." ...an you imagine though ...? 'Whoops!' " She laughed nervously. "Well at least you're a handsome young man. I'm, ... well, ... I'm, ..." What? A hot and beautiful older woman? Trust me there are worse things. In fact, there are probably very few better things!" I laughed. She didn't, but smiled nervously.I continued the brief lesson, which was made. He was an older gentleman who moved into town a few years ago and bought the big house up the hill that overlooked the park. He was known for spying on the ladies jogging and sunning themselves in the summer months, as well as paying ladies “generously” for very light house cleaning and help in the garden . My friend Amy worked for him for a few months before she moved back to California and she told me the less she wore, the more he tipped her...she said she was pretty sure he was. ” He managed to purr the words out, despite his thundering heart, despite his burning lungs. He looked back, then gently took hold of his wife’s arm, tugging her wasp-body forward. She looked at him in dazed, cock drunk confusion. Lou crooned. “You made quite a mess, little hive mind. Naught hive mind. Dirty little slutty hive mind. Look at all this cum...” He turned her head with his hand, gripping her hair. “Look at how much cum is wasted.”“M ... Muah?” Bea mumbled, unable to quite form. ” Looks like I’m adding to the credit card with crap I don’t need,’ I thought. Derek went into the kitchen and returned with his wallet a few seconds later. He opened it and pulled some notes out. “Here,” he said. “No,” I replied, holding up a finger in protest. “No, Derek, I can’t.” “Think of it as payment for services rendered.” “I’m not a prostitute, I don’t want your money for sex,” I replied angrily. Derek laughed. “Janet, I was joking. Take the money, go out and buy yourself.