Seeing Paulette at her accustomed station, he said to the Maître d' who was fussing like an old hen, "Table 67 will be fine." But Your Magnificence,....."The Emir ignored him and walked over to table 67 where he sat down. This left the Maître d' with no choice but to bring him a menu and signal the Head Sommelier to serve in that ill-regarded corner of the establishment. The Chef de Station was also told that this customer was to be served only by Paulette. The Maître d's most ardent desire was. I had had two helpings of everything on the breakfast table.As I closed the door it was evident that she was serious. A few minutes before she had grinned back at me from across the table. Now, her jaw was set and her eyes told me she was angry about something. Was it Rosita's smell? That would be easy to explain.I wanted to talk about something else on the way home. I wanted to tell her about the meeting with Mr. Waite and being awarded the contract to dismantle one of the houses he had. She was startled, but she kept on moving in sync with my body and each time, the finger was going deeper in, and her moans were getting louder. Soon she orgasmed hard and her body fell on the bed and started shaking like crazy. Since it would take her a few minutes to calm down, I went up to her head and started stroking my penis on her brunette hair.It felt heavenly, almost like her tongue was acting on my dick. I took her hair and envelopped my dick in it and started masturbating with it.. .. there is some very nice porn. Call it erotica if you want. The difference is the quality." But it's just sex! What's redeeming about it?" It needs redemption?" Now, you know what I mean. Do you think if you brought me some quote-unquote 'well written erotica' that I could find it interesting?"He didn't answer for a second, then said: "You know, as your supervisor I really don't think I should have an opinion on that." But seriously..." But seriously, trouble like this is something I don't.