Mr. Smith was seventy two years old and a widower. He was also quite wealthy because of some inventions and patents he had sold. His estate had a valu... of a little north of twenty million dollars.”“He told me he had met a lady from Poland that he wanted to marry but he wasn’t sure if she loved him or loved his money. He wanted me to draw up a pre-nup which I did. It was a generous pre-nup that stated she would receive twenty five thousand a year for every year they were married and after ten. Further there was her lack of belief in me. She was only too eager to believe everything that rat told her. No. I couldn't see us getting together, but she would know Derek for what he was before he went to prison.I felt a wave of utter depression sweep over me. I felt hopeless and dreaded a life lived alone. What woman would want a hideous cripple? I couldn't inflict myself on Jenny; she deserved a better man. I broke down and cried.My descent into self-pity was halted by the phone. It was. Her touch alone was causing problems, not to mention the fact that as she walked next to me, the side of her breast brushed repeatedly against my arm. My denim shorts grew uncomfortable in only a few seconds, but thankfully, they could conceal my problem and keep moderate control.The store was like the one we had back at home. It was a miniaturized version of Wal-Mart or Target and attempted to cater to practically any need. They had a clothing section near the entrance and the large bay. I don't know why I did that. A moment of madness. I really didn’t want him to beat me.He was shocked but delighted and we rolled around the grass laughing and he ended up on top of me, between my legs, in the missionary fuck position. He had a massive erection that was impossible to conceal. The moment I saw his erection bulging at the front of his shorts I thought about his cock and what it looked like from Maxx's pictures. I lay there underneath him, his face inches from mine and I willed him.