" Wonderful. Why don't you give your notice and we'll go later in the week to get your stuff. Or next week. This weekend will be... ," she paused for ... second, then went on, " ... busy." Oh?" I too have something to ask, this time it's not a command, not exactly, I have something I want you to do for me."As if there was a difference between the two. Whether she commanded or asked, if I could do it I would do it for her."Yes?"Ann looked deep into my eyes before she went on. "I have a photo-shoot. And then, straight ahead, she looked at my bedroom, the master suite.Silently, without her even glancing my way, the corners of her mouth raised in a coquettish smile. Equally silently, my cock leaped to attention, drawing all of the available blood from my brain. The Anvil Chorus was replaced by the exploding, booming cannons of the 1812 Overture, that masterpiece by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky celebrating Russia's victory over the invading French. I leave it to you to guess in what year that. More

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