The memory of her filled my head with euphoria; my muscles were a bit sore and my cock was exhausted. Damn, that old woman was hot in the sack.I could...hear voices; Jules and Mom. I sat up as a spear of terror struck me; I can’t say what I was afraid of, it just seemed that no good could come of their meeting.I wrapped a towel around my hips as I crept to the doorway to eavesdrop.“What do you make, a couple of hundred an hour?” Jules asked.“Two fifty for new clients, two hundred for regulars.”. Some Saturdays we would go to a café for morning coffee, in the city, to read the morning papers. One time we went there, Sarah was wearing a fairly short skirt, certainly above knee-length, which had a bit of a split up one side. We went into an open courtyard of the café, walking down some open, iron steps, almost like a fire escape to get to the tables. At the bottom was a table which is where I would sit if I went there. Any guys sitting there would be able to look up the skirts of any girl. More

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