He spun quickly around and felt his breath hiss out of his body just as if he had been kicked in the groin. “Sweet Jesus,” he groaned, and his penis leapt to a sudden throbbing life as his famished eyes took in her lush nude body. Her harvest moon breasts, still damp from the shower, shone as if they had little lights buried beneath the warm golden skin. The areola, about the size of brown half-dollars, created little halos around the nipples. Her belly was smooth, as gently rounded as an alluvial plain, where it flowed toward the hairy tributaries of her soft pubic triangle. She had a woman’s hips, he observed… a real woman’s. Her thighs were almost muscular; they looked powerful… and the thought of those wrapped around his waist or across his shoulders brought immediate pain to his loins. “My God… you are so beautiful,” he said, reverently.

Sylvia refused to accept the compliment; she wanted to keep this on strictly a non-personal basis. It was imperative that he realize he was only a servant… that under ordinary circumstances she wouldn’t give him the time of day, much less her body.

“I think you should take a shower,” she said coldly, “And you can use my husband’s electric razor to shave.”

For one split second, anger flared in Shelton’s mind. But then he shoved it aside, thinking to himself: Just wait, baby… just wait. In less than twenty minutes you’ll be screaming for me to fuck you good. Just wait.

He sat down and slowly took off his shoes and socks. One of the socks had a hole where the nail of the big toe had gouged through. Next, he removed his coat, his tie, shirt and tee shirt. He watched the woman with some amusement. She looked completely off balance… Embarrassed… obviously not knowing whether to stay and see the strip tease or get out. To hell with her, he thought, and he dropped his trousers. The huge bulge of his penis threatened to rip the seams out of his jockey shorts. Then, never taking his eyes from her, Shelton pulled down the shorts.