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No oil painting, but a woman, and a big woman none the less. He kissed her hand and led her into his room. The windows open it being warm, the sounds of the peacocks crying on the lawn echoed round the room as he stood, dressed in his pj`s and dressing gown, appraising the woman whom he normally saw mostly in her cooks whites. There was no doubt she was formidable. He offered her sherry, having lifted a bottle from the drawing room, along with a couple of glasses. They sat at the window seat, sipping the sherry, neither quite knowing what to say, or how to break the spell. In desperation he said that he had dreamed of her visiting him often over the last few years and tonight she was to call him just Monty, and she was Betty, his date, not the young master and the cook, not age different folk but…but someone he had picked to enjoy, because he wanted her. It was flattery and she was flattered, he refilled her glass and though she knew in her heart why she was here, she appreciated his. .!!!!!" I yelled, but I couldn't finish, because a hand had slammed down on the phone cradle so the connection was broken. For the record, I would have finished with hate you."Fuck, you take a long time, dude. I just had to butt in and cut you off. Some people would like to make a call too, you know?" FUCK! I hadn't even known it had begun to rain! I was so shocked from the slam that I dropped the phone out of my hand. I felt it dangle against my leg, yet I didn't care about the phone. I was focused on the man in front of me. His shirt was fully open, and it gave me the most sexy image I had ever laid my eyes on. His stomach was perfectly, smooth and so very well-formed, I thought I was dealing with a bodybuilder. He had slid into the phonebooth with me. The raindrops drizzled from his body, I was hypnotized by it. My gaze lowered to the kind of pants and oh god did I see a bulge?! "Hey, up here!" I heard him say and my gaze shot up. Our eyes met...And then his lips were on mine. I.
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