The lady sitting behind the desk was elderly. She had silvery-white hair pulled back in a tight bun, enough lines on her face to make a mapmaker proud... and a stained meerschaum pipe carved to resemble a man’s head with a flowing beard. To me, it looked like she was smoking from Santa’s head. She had a heavy quilt wrapped around her in the chair with a single hand sticking out to hold the pipe. “Room for one?” she asked when she saw me.“No, I need some information,” I said.“Can’t help ya,” she. I took myself into the living room to pour a large drink and contemplate how I was going control my constantly throbbing cock in the days to come. Before too long the door opened and Rachel asked, in that soft, almost husky voice, if she could join me. Like before, she sat opposite, but this time she was wearing a very short flared skirt and soft silky blouse which barely covered the swell of her beautiful breasts. She crossed her leg and the skirt fell away to reveal the tops of her stockings. More

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