Hot Sheets
“"Ah, the family of three," he rejoiced aloud, thinking of the money.
"What about them?" Goldie asked as she breezed across the foyer in her French maid outfit, her blue eyes smiling, her long golden locks cascading over her pert breasts.
"They arrive at lunch time. Where the hell have you been?" "Dave sent me out to buy a new cooker," she said softly. "It's being delivered this afternoon." "Oh, is it now? And how much did it cost me?" "They're going to send you the bill." "Answer the question, ...Goldie! Unless you want a damned good tit thrashing!" "Not far short of a grand." "Suck my throbbing prick! Right, Dave can pay half! What does he propose to do about lunch? Without a cooker, he can't cook. He's like a prostitute without a cunt, he can't work." "I don't know.
By the way, the princess wants you. She's in bed." "Is she now?
Right, I'll go and see her. Is it beyond your capability to man reception?" "No, of course it's not. I do a better job than you." "Don't be ridiculous. No one does a better job than me; I'm the proprietor - akin to God." "At least I don't swear in front of the punters." "I don't fucking swear, either!" "Yes you do, you're always swearing." "It's my prerogative.MoreLess
"What about them?" Goldie asked as she breezed across the foyer in her French maid outfit, her blue eyes smiling, her long golden locks cascading over her pert breasts.
"They arrive at lunch time. Where the hell have you been?" "Dave sent me out to buy a new cooker," she said softly. "It's being delivered this afternoon." "Oh, is it now? And how much did it cost me?" "They're going to send you the bill." "Answer the question, ...Goldie! Unless you want a damned good tit thrashing!" "Not far short of a grand." "Suck my throbbing prick! Right, Dave can pay half! What does he propose to do about lunch? Without a cooker, he can't cook. He's like a prostitute without a cunt, he can't work." "I don't know.
By the way, the princess wants you. She's in bed." "Is she now?
Right, I'll go and see her. Is it beyond your capability to man reception?" "No, of course it's not. I do a better job than you." "Don't be ridiculous. No one does a better job than me; I'm the proprietor - akin to God." "At least I don't swear in front of the punters." "I don't fucking swear, either!" "Yes you do, you're always swearing." "It's my prerogative.MoreLess
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