Sitting behind his wide desk Jackson looked at his phone. Sophie had sent him four messages. Taking a deep breath Jackson opened the first message. “Just imagining this was you.” Once again her pussy was on display, only this time there was a life like silicone cock halfway in her wet snatch. Jackson felt his cock grow harder, straining now. He knew exactly what he wanted to do with it. He opened the second message. “I can’t wait to be on my knees again.” Jackson didn’t know where his baby. The deal was done; money changed hands; Father, too ashamed to face her, turned and walked away. Molly watched to see if he would turn back, but he never did before disappearing into the crates piled on the docks.The Englishman walked toward her. Stopping, he looked her over almost with distain. “I am William Ingram. Mister Ingram to you! You will be attending to my three children. We are leaving within the hour for America. Pick up your bag and follow.”The Englishman turned and walked away.. "Well for a start, you can stop talking out the corner of your mouth like Humphrey Bogart." Humpty who?" Oh never mind." I laughed. "I presume she means that cleaning woman, so all we have to do is to keep the curtains drawn while we're, well you know." Fucking?" Yes, fucking." I giggled and felt a delicious wetness in my knickers.We went straight back to our cottage after the meal, eager to continue our explorations with each other.She started it as soon as we got in, by hitching up her school. He stops kicking and she puts him down. ‘Stay here,’ she is saying. ‘You’re going to bed now.’ She leaves. A door closes. There is darkness. * * * She shuts the door and leans against it, breathing heavily. The telltale gleam of salty wetness trail down her cheeks – tears of frustration and rage, glittering and bathing the angry red lines where he has scratched her, in stinging salt. A car pulls into the driveway, engine purring like an overfed cat. Michael. Her darling boy. She walks quickly.
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