It seemed that practically nothing I did was good enough for MissCharlotte. My vacuuming took too long and my scrubbing left to much grimyresidue. I l...ft streaks on the windows. I missed wrinkles as I ironed. Iwasn't even trusted to go shopping for supplies because of my failures.My demerits just kept pilling up.Consequently, all the good assignments were split between Tara and MissCharlotte. I was left with the most mundane tasks that did not requirethe perfection that others did. I was. It was easy to get his arm around her shoulders with his fingers drooping down to rest comfortably on her swelling breast. It was all so human with care and concern for a fellow human in need of some assistance.Young Harold Wilson was not a virgin.That was more a matter of accidental circumstance than any sense of devious planning on his part to separate a young lady from her undies just before introducing her to his tool of creation. His equipment was still in the original carton and still. I awoke early the next morning and went out to have a piss. The guard on duty was one that didn't like me but then again if I was the one that had killed almost an entire legion of his friends then this was understandable."Where do you think you are going?" he said as he drew his sword."To the wall to piss. I don't know why you hate me so much. I never did anything to you."He had nothing to say but I went to the wall anyway. He could use the sword and say that I was trying to escape but I doubt. “Oh, I don’t know.”, I responded. “Maybe just, this!”, I said, as I pulled out my phone, and brought up the pictures I had taken that morning and afternoon.As Jess looked at one picture after another, I could see she became deflated. She just sat there, resigned to the fact she had been discovered.“So? How long?”, I again asked.“Can we go home and discuss this?”, she asked. “I don’t want to do this here.”I called the waiter over, and we cancelled our dinners, paid the check, and left. To say.
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