Chapter Eighteen
Dealing With Edith
Eight out of ten.
Not standing straight, hands should be better positioned, a smile, but not happy enough to satisfy the returning wife. It seemed that the hubby could not be perfect enough for Edith, or perhaps her day at the office had been trying?
He was required to serve them in the lounge and listened to the idle chatter about clothes and accessories as he stood waiting upon them. Every now and again, Edith turned her eyes to his and smiled, but he could not tell if it was encouragement or amusement.
She sat there, sexy as hell, all tight slit-skirt and low-cut blouse. He could just make out the curves of those perfect globes that were revealed by the parting of her black blouse and the tops of her stockings and one of the garters that clipped
