I'd carried a vision of what I wanted in a woman. Frannie, silhouetted in that sunlight, surpassed that vision in almost every aspect.I felt myself gr...w hard. At the same time, I was determined that I'd do nothing to dishonor either her memory of Willie, or the high regard I held both of them in. I stood up from my chair, knowing that my erection was plainly visible outlined against the pant leg of my thin white cotton trousers. I bowed slightly in her direction, acknowledging her even though I. "What kind of WOMAN wears WHITE stockings? Any idea?"I shook my head."Women who work for a living. Specifically, WOMEN who work in the SERVICE industry. And so answer me this, would you call doing my housework a SERVICE or a PRODUCT? Which would it be, Paul?" Please..." Answer me. Is housework a SERVICE or a PRODUCT? Which is it?" A service," I muttered."That's right! Good for you! This means that if you do my housework, in ADDITION to my laundry, you'd be doing me a service, wouldn't you? Now,. More

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