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“Sorry,” I said, “I guess I got carried away.” John glanced at his lap and wiggled on the stool, trying unsuccessfully to hide his arousal. “Wow, girl, you haven’t had this much fun in a long time,” I thought to myself. “And it does not seem as though you have lost anything in the wiles department.” By this time the remaining customers had pretty much cleared out. John got up, said good evening to the last of the departing help, and locked the door. “Let’s take a look at those feet,” John said as he returned. I smiled and repositioned myself as John took my first foot from the warm bath and set it on the cushioned edge. I hitched up my skirt and spread my knees, giving John an unobstructed view of my hot cunt. I assumed it was glistening, and engorged. John gave it his best, but I must say that the pedicure suffered as John’s attention to my toes was diminished by his rapt attention to the treasure before his eyes. Sweat drops formed on John’s brow and slid down his face. I leaned. ‘Come on, as slow as you ride, it will take us all afternoon to get back to the barn.’ Getting on my horse, I said, ‘Not my fault I’m slow. I think my horse is broke. He won’t go faster than a bone shaking trot.’ I put my heels to the beast and said, ‘C’mon Dog Food, let’s get back so we can get away from each other.’ I saw the look on Abby’s face. ‘Yeah, I called him Dog Food, cause that’s what he’ll be in a few years.’ She laughed again as she rode down the trail with me trying to keep up with her. You’d think I was a stand up comic as much as I made her laugh. That evening at supper, Abby’s dad, Darren, again gave me the look. You know, the one that says I don’t like you sleeping with my daughter. He’d given me that look from the minute that Abby put both our suitcases in a guest room. Her mother, Mary, just laughed and told him to join the 21st century. In spite of her own beliefs or upbringing she accepted what she knew she couldn’t change or control. Smart woman, I thought..
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