I walked into the kitched to grab a Pop-Tart and some juice. I looked at the window and saw the three Mexican gardeners show up for their weekly job sprucing up the grounds. I remembered the way Ms. Sorenson berated them for every little thing and would constantly refer to them behind their backs as "wetbacks," "beaners," or "greaseballs." As I was watching them unload their equipment, Ms. Sorenson walked in behind me. I turned to look at her. She had a hint of fear in her eyes. She was dressed in a tight, knee length black skirt, low cut white blouse, and black blazer. I smiled wickedly. ~go give your gardeners the best blow jobs of their lives for a well deserved tip. Kneel in the back yard and suck all of their cum down!~
Her eyes grew big as she almost mechanically moved to the back yard. |