Poor old Albright had to live with the indignity for some time, but he did benefit from a contented staff once the Housekeeper and Butler realised screwing each other every Saturday night was better than doing without and finally decide to tie the knot. Xxx “Possibly, where is your master?” I asked. I did a quick count. I never did get my fifty guineas bet but I was the toast of my club for ages afterwards and must have consumed fifty guineas worth of ale on the strength of retelling the tale. His soft pudgy cock swung loose barely roused. “Er, no,” the Butler admitted, “Never thought of poking her to be honest, I likes the younger ones usually.”
She slapped him full across the face. “I am afraid my name is John Hanson and I have just won a fifty guinea bet.”
“You tricked me!” the housekeeper
