For the first time since Iwas a teenager, I had a wet dream. It was almost morning, so I got up andthrew the sheets into the washer. No need for the maid to find those.I tried to write, and was actually doing okay, when I saw Cindy mowingthe lawn. I found myself really turned on. I had never had this kind ofresponse before to any woman, but I could not control myself. My handseems to have a mind of its own as it started stroking my hard cock.Images from my dream and the sight of her so close were really turning meon. I came very hard.I wanted to go talk to her, after I had showered and cleaned up ofcourse, but she was gone. It would be another week before she was backand that thought really depressed me. I had a phone call on voice mailfrom Chloe about how we needed to talk, but I ignored it. She wasn'tCindy so I wasn't interested. Some part of me found that odd, but therest of me really wanted Cindy.The day before Cindy came back I went to the mall to get a new outfit. Iwanted to. When he turned back to approach her, she was gone. There was, however, a black umbrella folded neatly and hanging from the back of her chair by its strap."Excuse me, miss," he said, rushing after her on the busy street. "Miss, you left this on your chair."She paused and looked back, her forehead wrinkling briefly in annoyance, then she saw her umbrella in his hand. "That was kind of you," she said, pausing for a moment."It was my pleasure to be of service," he said with a grin, pitching his voice to sound playfully formal. "Here is my card." He presented her with his calling card, not his business card. A business card seems to obligate reciprocation, establishing some kind of quid pro quo between the person giving and the person receiving it. His calling card had his personal information, elegantly engraved, as an offering of trust to her, nothing expected in return."Mr. Franklin, it is nice to meet you, but I am late for an appointment," she said and abruptly turned to go.He smiled.
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