Fishing With Mrs Duckett

"Oh thanks," she cooed, rubbing the stuff into her mounds. "I do this because I believe it stops them growing."

Huh?

"Well I'm off to sleep," she yawned. "I'm only good for one session every four hours or so. Can we meet again? You really are good and over coming weeks I'd like you to use your repertoire on me. The only three men I've known in my life have all been devotees of ass-fucking."

* * *

I've been promoted to new car sales manager and accompany Mackenzie fishing on Saturdays whenever Crowley goes out with the boys or is out of town; my payment for that is now $400 and Mackenzie calls me her gigolo. She's taking much better care of herself and wears very sexy underwear and great fashionable outer clothes. Crowley attributes her revival to being associated with someone much younger like myself. I've taken to growing my hair longer and wearing a gold neck chain, big gold watch and a pink shirt knowing that Crowley with his bird-brain prejudice will continue to believe that I'm a closet gay.

Oh, Mackenzie is pregnant – she was relying only on condoms. We haven't yet decided how to break the news to Crowley. If he walks away from her (the business is owned by Mackenzie and her mom) then I'll take her on permanently. She's blossomed and become so interesting. She's still the best fuck I've ever had

THE END