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I stood there as he rushed to get cloth, towel and water, soon he was knelt in front of me cleaning my sticky, juiced up cock then he was scrubbing the floor at my feet as I pulled my pants and shorts up, "You got that fiver," I asked.He went to a tin in the kitchen and brought it, as he handed it to me he said, "You want to tie me up and do what you like?" I pocketed the five pound note and turned, with a, "Ya, maybe next time," I was out the door, book in hand and gone.I'd been there three more times, each time he'd got his hands in my pants; the first two hand jobs cost him packets of smokes and a few beers while he did the business, the third time I wanted some cash so I let him tie my hands behind me while he pumped me off. Each time he wanted me to do him but as they say in the best of circles, I made my excuses and left him to jerk his own slimy white meat.It was when I came home from school on the Thursday that the shit hit the fan. Mother was asking the old man which outfit. She had made few friends so I figured she was reaching out to me as someone who had been nice to her.I was able to communicate to her that I worked at home much of the time and I did need to get back to it but thanked her very much for the tasty cookies. She seemed to be delighted at that simple complement and hugged me before she left. Between English and sign language she asked me if I would like some more tomorrow. They were good and I could always use a little break, plus I sensed that she really needed it, so I nodded my head and said “yes”.Sure enough, the next afternoon about the same time there she was with some different cookies she had baked. I remembered the type of soda she had picked and got it for her and we visited.This happened every day and she seemed to really like visiting with me. I learned that she had been married 20 years and was born in this country but in a part of it where Spanish was spoken far more than English. When I asked how I could thank her, she said.
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