While I sipped on my cup of coffee, I commented to her that her feet must be killing her. She said she was in a hurry and left for work in her stilett... heel boots. I told her that every male patient must have appreciated seeing her, though. She said that it would have made her day if that was the situation, but with the exception of an OD, all of her patients during the shift were women.Something suddenly popped into my head. I offered to give her a foot massage. She said I didn’t need to and. There was one chore that she and Peter always took care of at six o’clock, a chore they both fully enjoyed. Meg leaned over the kitchen bench pretending to fiddle with some condiments, she kicked up a heel, opening up the kick-pleat in the back of her skirt to expose the seams on her stockings running up the back of her long legs.Peter inhaled the appetising smell of dinner mingled with his mother’s perfume and strode across the dining room, smiling. He pressed himself against his mother,. More

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