1. Jenny and I-3


    Date: 10/9/2015, Categories: First Time, Mature, Taboo, Author: stif266, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    tomorrow morning. This was a different woman from Mrs. Jackson, so I did not know whether or not I would just cut her grass or would also fuck her. Either one was acceptable, though, naturally, I would prefer to throw in the fuck. Not only did I like the prospect of fucking, but I would like to receive the extra money. Speaking of money, I stuffed my recently earned $225 into a book. God help me if Mom stumbled across that much money. She was even better at cross examination than Jenny, so I knew that I would wind up telling all to her, and I knew that would put me into such deep shit that I would be grounded for life! I left for Mrs. Jane Thornton's home without much realistic expectation of being fucked, but I could always hope. Mrs. Thornton was a &#034woman of color&#034 (African-American) with every intent of making sure that every person, especially the Whites, accorded her every bit of the respect she believed that she deserved. Thus, I felt that I was walking on eggs every time I went to work on her yard. Were it not for the fact that she paid me $30 instead of the $20 that most of my customers usually paid, I would have stopped working for her. As it was, I figured that the 50% increase that I charged Mrs. Thornton barely paid me for the aggravation of working for her. I went to her backdoor: being a servant prevented me from using her front door or porch. Thus, I was pissed off before I even knocked on the door. It took four knocks before Mrs. Thornton deigned to ...
    show up at the door. She opened the door to the limit allowed by the chain lock and said through this small opening in an imperious voice, &#034Who are you, and what do you want?&#034 That was step two toward pissing me off. I knew that Mrs. Thornton knew damned well who I was, and she was just working on her superiority kick. I said, &#034Good morning, Mrs. Thornton. I'm Billy Weston, and I'm here to cut your grass.&#034 &#034Well, Billy Weston, why are you standing at my backdoor and not cutting the grass?&#034 &#034Because, Mrs. Thornton, you have to give me the key so that I can get the lawnmower from the tool shed.&#034 &#034Very well, but you stand there where I can keep an eye on you while I fetch the key.&#034 This time, I didn't say anything but I stood there and fumed while the old bitch fetched the key. This was step three toward pissing me off. I had promised myself that I would allow Mrs. Thornton only five insults or aggravations on this day. One more, and I was leaving her in the lurch. &#034Here is the key, but you be sure to return it to me as soon as you open the door to remove the lawnmower.&#034 Okay, that was number five. I said, &#034You can keep the key, Mrs. Thornton! I just quit cutting your grass. You can find somebody else for all I care, or you can let the grass grow. I could not care less! I have had all of your insults and putdowns that I can stand. So long, Mrs. Thornton, and to hell with you and your lawn.&#034 I turned around and stalked off ...
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