Her hand stroked down my face to my neck. My pulse fluttered beneath her touch, my heart drumming with rapture. It pumped heat through me that gathere... at my breasts and my pussy.I was so hot. I need to get out of my clothing.As if Miss Daisy read my mind, or perhaps she was just feeling the same desires besetting me, her hands drifted down my sweatshirt. I groaned as she brushed over the tips of my breasts, stimulating my puffy nipples. Lightning zapped to my pussy as her hand stroked down my. The head man very rarely hobnobbed with us mere mortals. And yet there he was sitting and apparently planning on eating with the family.I thought, "Just who the hell (oops!) heck was Mrs. Williams?"I started making plans on how to handle it if HE visited tomorrow.Good old Angelo had cornered one of the lesser family members. It seemed Mrs. Williams had been the Bishop's house keeper for the last 40 years. She was the Bishop's gatekeeper. If someone wanted to get the Bishop's ear, they talked to. More

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