‘Oh, I’m sorry, Mrs. O’Malley. I’ve made quite a mess, haven’t I?’ She began to hurriedly clean up the flour covered counters. ‘I ran a ...akery with my husband,’ she paused before correcting herself. ‘My late husband…’ She took a deep steadying breath before continuing, ‘back in Albany and always found it to be such soothing and enjoyable work.’ When Mrs. O’Malley only continued to glare at her, she gave the counters a final wipe and asking her could she please remove the pies from the oven in. Typical really. The long shirt was to avoid scratches on this walk, then she put all her jeans into wash and had to wear the sexiest, tightest, shorts I’d seen (up to then). “What are you looking at? These shorts? They are too tight aren’t they? They are uncomfortable actually. Can I undo them?” She unclipped the button at the front and unzipped them to reveal her white panties with flowers on them. She knew precisely the effect that would have on me.“Terri, can I ask you. More

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