Not a good sign, she thought. She'd try and be cheerful though, maybe that would change his mood."Hi honey!" she called out to him as she walked into ...he parlor.He saw her holding her picnic basket and beach bag and noticed her cheeks all ruddy."And where the hell have you been? I've been sitting here for over an hour. I'm tired and I'm hungry!" he growled at her. She looked over on the side table and noticed his bottle of scotch was half empty. Not a good sign. And he was holding a drink in. "Richie, Richie, Richie," the very young (only two yearsolder than Richard, himself) Misses Certette mumbled as shestrolled to him, shaking her head, and bouncing her immensefreckled boobs. "Our sergeant-at-arms claims she caught youpeeping in a window. Is that true?" "No," he defended, scared and uncertain. "Now, now, Richie. Don't lie to me." The Governess leanedover and gently buried her stepson's face in her deep, warmcleavage. "Tell Mummy the truth, Dear. Are you a Peeping. No big deal." There was a trace of disappointment in his voice.Carla stopped and looked at him without saying a word. It suddenly occurred to her what she had just done; she'd led him on in a big way. She felt like the worst kind of cock tease. She had a choice: a tease or a slut. She made a decision; sluts have more fun. Kissing him lightly on the lips, she hugged him, pressing herself tightly against him. She laid her head on his shoulder."I said we didn't have to, I didn't say we couldn't. I. " her name would slip softly from me so many nights, as I laid alone in my bed stroking a bare rock hard cock. Imagining a hand in place of mine jerking the foreskin up and over the head before lightly pulling it back down in such a professional stroke. The type of hand job only someone of this age and experience could bestow on a man, only her softer more feminine hands oppose to my more rugged and rough hands could deliver me to a sensation I could not give myself. I could see her lips slowly.