” “What did you say?” “She got married, boy. Her name is now Meyer. Mrs Helga Meyer. Rich as Croesus and a patron of the Arts. Mad as a bat, of course, but then women of that age often are. Hope that answers your questions, I’ve got things to do. Goodbye.” And with that, he hung up. I sat there in stunned silence for a full minute. Angela was gazing at me, her eyes brim full of concern. “What did he say?” Her voice had a nervous edge. I repeated what Allardyce had told me. It was Angela’s turn to be stunned. “Frau Meyer?” She kept repeating the question softly to herself. Liam and Niall came in and we told them the full story. “It doesn’t make sense,” said Niall. I shook my head. Something was stirring uneasily at the back of my mind. I wasn’t there yet but I had the first glimmerings. We kicked it back and forth, worrying at it like Magic gnaws a stick. That elusive little tickle at the back of my mind came and went. After a while, Angela said, “Let us summarise.” Niall pulled out a. She’d only been in the back yard, but then a renovator from next door’s had told her to service him behind his truck, and Flint had told her that she was open to any man. She’d had to obey, and then his friends had wanted the use of her mouth and hands, her ass and pussy, and so she’d worked hard to bring each one to pleasure. The first man’s cock buried in her cunt, Natasha had moaned then as pleasure flooded over her. This was, she knew, what she was meant to do. She began to rhythmically tense her inner muscles, her knees by her shoulders and her feet pointing at the ceiling. She could smell the men’s musk, her fingers brushed over their erections and the nipples on top of her DD breasts stiffened. Heat grew between her thighs, her chest growing tight, and after she’d knelt down in front of all three men in a proper greeting, she didn’t hesitate when they told her to strip. The first man’s strokes had been blissful. Flint hadn’t let her orgasm for the past week, he hadn’t.
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