He had a clear view of his gorgeous employer from the door in the loft where the hay elevator dumped. It was warm, and he took frequent breaks, during...which he watched Mrs. M, as he called his boss, while she laid on a blanket watching her kids play in the water. The view was excellent, too. Mrs. M. had on an extremely scanty yellow spandex bikini with little daisies for trimming. The suit had a negligible bottom, which displayed most of her firm buttocks and the top consisted mainly of two. Please stay. She smiled, enchanted by his trust. He pressed the broadcast button, dialled. Quite a few rings, then a woman’s voice, posh English, sharp with annoyance: -Who the fuck’s that? It’s past midnight. This’d better be good! -Umm…Anne? It’s me, John. Sorry to call so late, but… – he looked in Julie’s smiling eyes – it’s… err… it’s important. Had to speak to you now. I… -Piss off John. That’s the first and last time you brush me off. Bet you’re fucking Julie now, aren’t you? -Anne. I’m. More

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