My calves are jelly, my thighs liquid and with every step the weight of my burning desire causes them to buckle beneath me.I stop; breathless, panting... my tiny bosom heaving like some latter day Jane Austen heroine. I can taste his flesh in my mouth, smell his sex on my fingers, and see the wondrous image of his slender young cock pulsing needily in my mind. Slowly I turn and face my tormentor.I owe you an apology, dear reader, for I have been a little economical with the truth. I have drawn. " No, odd jobs; Jobs where it can be difficult to find somebody who knows how to do them."One guy wanted me to teach his son how to throw a twelve-to-six curve ball and a slider. He also wanted me to teach the kid a changeup, but I never learned to throw a decent one myself."Another guy hired me to stop his kid from being bullied." That is an odd job," Maeve said. "How did you do that?" I 'happened' upon them around the time the bully usually did his thing. As the bully was approaching the kid. More

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