Samantha Derby was walking across the car park as Duggie Lummox drove into his parking space. She quickened her pace; she didn’t care much for Duggie. He had never said or proposed anything untoward, but with his yellow teeth and furtive glances down her cleavage, she felt uncomfortable around him. Yes, she felt sorry that his wife had died from cancer, but that was years ago and his problem. The lift indicators in the lobby showed all lifts, apart from the express lift to the fifteenth, sitting at different floors in the building. She hit the call button several times. Nothing moved. She heard Duggie coming into the lobby and looked up at the indicators, pretending to be absorbed and not knowing he was there.
‘Good morning Sam. Lifts are always busy with cleaners at this time of the morning. Share mine and walk down a floor.’
Samantha’s heart sank. She turned and forced a smile. ‘Sure you don’t mind?’
Duggie gave her a yellow smile, his eyes wandered down to her cleavage. ‘Course not, come on.’ He held the door and Samantha hit the up button as she entered the lift. What would it take 30 seconds – forty seconds? Some polite conversation might help.
‘Lovely morning.’
Duggie shifted his eyes to hers. ‘Yes indeed, what brings you in so early?’
Relieved that he had taken a position on the other side of the lift, she relaxed. ‘I'm checking on a few things for Barrie Billingsgate.’
Duggie nodded. ‘Ah yes, the mysterious drop in sales at Dynamic, any ideas?’
‘Yes I’ve got some, that’s why I came in early to check them out on my computer.’
The lift arrived at the fifteenth floor. Duggie held the door open for Sam and rested his hand on her shoulder as he walked out with her. Resisted the temptation to pull away, she turned her head and managed a weak smile. He smiled back and patted her shoulder in a fatherly way. ‘You’re a very bright girl, Sam, we’re fortunate to have someone of your calibre working in Dynamic. I know you’ll help Barrie sort out the problem.’ With that he strode off down the corridor. A seedy looking man, but now she knew that his only interest in her was work. Barrie had always said Duggie was a good sort? How could she have got him so wrong?
Duggie Lummox went into the small room behind his secretary’s desk and switched on the kettle. As he waited for it to boil, he stood over the desk and flicked through the files in the in-tray. Nothing of importance outstanding. A good worker was Penny. Drove him crazy with her long sexy legs and red hair – and she knew it, but he had a policy of never mixing business with pleasure and she knew that too. The kettle, with only enough water in it for one mug, boiled quickly; a good example of how she organised things for him. He liked thoughtful touches like that, she was a great secretary – best he’d ever had. He made the coffee black and carried the mug into his office.
The two files he had instructed Penny to get from Pauline Sykes were on his desk, as he knew they would be. He took a sip of coffee before picking up both files. The file on ‘Sally Barnard’ was bulky compared with the one marked ‘Samantha Derby. He decided to read the bulky one first.
With legs spread wide, Julie Bunford lay on her back, looking up at the ceiling mirror and touching herself. It felt delicious and because her lover had told her she looked delicious, she was beginning to believe it. What a wonderful start to the day, no cleaning to do and no worries, apart from having to tell Peter she would be moving out. Would it be best for him to keep the house, as somewhere for Becky to come home to, or should they sell, and both make a fresh start? She thought about telling Becky, during the drive to Nottingham, but decided it wasn‘t such a good idea, she was looking forward to university, no point in spoiling the moment. She concentrated the small circular movements around the base of her clitoris. It was getting close now. She had brought Lucy to three fantastic orgasms, Lucy’s words not hers, but, not surprisingly as she had three the previous day, it didn’t quite happen for her. She wasn’t worried, giving pleasure to Lucy was enough, but Lucy had other ideas. She ordered her to bring herself to orgasm, or frig herself to oblivion as she so colourfully put it, while she took a shower. It was really close now, she hit the right spot with her middle finger and thought of cleaning brass. Polishing! Polishing! God – she was coming! She shouted for her lover and watched herself writhe on the bed which only served to intensify the orgasm. A movement in one of the mirrors caught her attention, it was Lucy, standing by the door, wrapped in a towel, nodding her approval and smiling.
‘Well done darling. That's what your cunt is for – unfettered pleasure. Which reminds me, we have time to discuss your new responsibilities before you drive Rebecca to Nottingham – do you understand CAD?’
Julie’s fingers were still trembling as she continued to stroke herself. She pondered the question, as she soothed her aching vagina. ‘I believe it stands for computer aided design, but I’ve never used it.’
Lucy dropped the towel and joined her on the bed. She placed hand on top of Julie’s and moved it up and down. ‘You can forget computer aided design darling, as far as you are concerned, CAD stands for Cunt Awareness Day.’ She applied some pressure – enough to make Julie moan. ‘You must take a roll of surgical tape with you. I’ll tell you how to use it, and incidentally, I thought you might like to give Rebecca a treat and drive our Merc.’
‘Our Merc?’
‘Of course; it’s my business car and as from today, you own half the business, so it is our Merc.’
‘I’m not sure I could drive it.’
‘If you can drive our old van, you can drive anything, so don’t worry.’ She feigned loss of memory. ‘I’ve put the keys somewhere or other; do you think you could help me find them?’
Julie smiled; she had a very good idea where they might be.
At Holly Cottage, Barrie and Natasha were arguing over what Natasha’s body should wear for the day. Natasha had laid the skirt and blouse she considered appropriate, on the bed. Barrie was rifling though the wardrobe, looking for something more suitable. Yes, he knew Natasha wouldn’t wear the same dress two days running, but didn’t she have another one with buttons down the front? He was deviously thinking ahead, leaving all the buttons undone, following a trip to the bathroom could be a good way of getting a threesome going. He was already wearing her flimsiest, sexiest underwear. Natasha was losing patience. She tried to handle the skirt and blouse delicately as she picked them up off the bed with his big hands.
‘Barrie, this is what I would ordinarily wear for work. Yesterday was an unusual day because of the presentation to Davina Maypole and I chose that particular dress to make life easier for you, but you can’t wear it two days running and that’s final.’
‘How about this frock then?’ He held a black dress in front of her body.
‘That’s for evening wear.’ She was getting really cross, why wouldn’t he take her advice. She lifted her own body out of the way, which was easy with Barrie’s strength, and looked along the rail in the wardrobe. She found a cotton dress in a floral pattern which buttoned up the front, It was a summer dress and they were well into September – but what the hell. ‘There – wear that! And while I think of it, we’d better swap mobiles.’
Barrie took the dress, held it against her body and looked in the full length mirror. ‘Yes – I think that’s more me,’ he said with a smirk. He took his mobile from her handbag and tossed it onto the bed, took her mobile from the dressing table, where it had been on charge and thrust it into the handbag. ‘Oh, and don’t forget you’ve damaged your hamstring. It’ll help you remember to limp if you wear a thigh support, don’t put my trousers on – I’ll get you one.’ He slipped into the dress and without fastening the buttons, ran down to the garage to rummage through his sports holdall.
When he returned, Natasha was struggling with his tie. She still found it difficult to use his large fingers.
‘All fingers and thumbs again?’ Barrie adopted a provocative pose holding a thigh support, which looked as if it could do with a good wash, delicately between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand. The left hand was on her hip, inside the dress, which was wide open. Natasha took the support in Barrie’s hand and sniffed; the strong smell of embrocation, mixed with stale sweat, made her gag.
‘Ughh, that’s dreadful. You don’t expect me to wear that?’
‘Course I do. Come on, give it here.’ Natasha watched as her hand snatched the thigh support and took it into the bathroom. Then, posing in the doorway, he sprayed it with his Lacoste aftershave, before holding it up and sniffing it.
‘There you are nothing wrong with that.’
Natasha propelled his body across the bedroom and snatched it back.
‘It could still do with a good wash – and for heavens sake Barrie, stop posing and button up that dress.’
Barrie tilted her head back and struck a different pose with legs astride – hands on hips. ‘I’m going to miss not modelling underwear today.’
Natasha snorted as she pulled the support over Barrie’s thigh. ‘I’m surprised Davina Maypole bought anything at all if you hammed it up like that all the time.’
‘She was very impressed Tash. Simply adored your bottom.’ He turned and pulled the dress aside to expose a buttock.
Natasha was about to answer when her phone rang. They both made a dive for the handbag; Barrie got there first.
‘Hello. Natasha speaking.’ He poked her tongue out at her – then almost jumped to attention. ‘Er – Gwen – how nice to hear from you. How are you?’ He repeated what she was saying for Natasha’s benefit. ‘You want another medical corset? You’re coming to Hamsworth today? No, that’s not a problem, drop in about eleven and join us for a cup of coffee.’
Natasha waved Barrie’s hands at him and mouthed the word tea, reinforcing it by making a ‘T’ signal with his hands. Barrie was quick to catch on.
‘Or, better still, I’ll make us a nice pot of tea. Look forward to seeing you then – bye.’ Barrie switched off the mobile, threw it on the bed.
‘What do I do Tash? I haven’t a clue.
‘Well, you can’t ask Debbie to help, that’s for sure, she would soon know something was wrong. I’m afraid there’s nothing else for it, you’ll have to take Gwen into the fitting room, help her take all her clothes off, including her corset, and take new measurements.’ She laughed at the look on her own face and added. ‘You’re about to find out that life at DebTash is more than sexy underwear.’