Chapter 9

I woke early on Tuesday morning. Back in my days in The City, I’d always been an early riser—regularly at my desk by seven. But after moving to Westmouth and then marrying Emma, I’d settled into a comfortable nine to five routine and gradually been getting up later and later. I didn’t need to leave the house until half-eight to be at work on time, so what was the point of setting the alarm any earlier than seven-thirty?

Of course, in recent months, I’d gotten rid of the alarm clock altogether—my girls had a much better alarm call for me.

But on this morning, I was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of strong coffee and a couple of slices of toast, looking out at the garden through the French doors, by half-six.

The house was quiet. Emma was still asleep in our bed. Our sleeping arrangements had changed since I started shooting and Emma was now claiming me for her own most nights—as was her right. Dom and Amber were in Dom’s bed and I didn’t expect either of them to stir until late morning.

Mel ... Well, Mel hadn’t come home last night.

Although, I suppose, technically, she was at home. Her home, that is. The flat she still paid the mortgage for even though she knew she could sell and move in with us any time she liked.

Hell, Emma and I had talked about selling up too and buying a larger property so we could all be more comfortable living together.

My mind was a whirl. It had been ever since I left Jim’s office after the meeting with Alsworth. When I got home, I’d done some more digging, trying to find the names of the ultimate owners of EastEnd Investments, but it was nigh on impossible.

Private investment companies were not unusual. My own investment company, WestInvest, was a typical example. I’d set the company up shortly after moving to Westmouth to manage the investments of a small group of long term clients who I trusted and who trusted me. My clients invested directly in the WestInvest and then the company held shares in other businesses on their behalf. Its portfolio was about as varied as you can imagine. The fund held a small share of KDP as well as JLP.

At first glance, EastEnd was the same kind of company. It was operated by Alsworth and hid the identity of its investors. But the deeper you looked...

EastEnd’s main investors were two other investment funds. And both of those funds main investors were further investment companies. Layer after layer, all interconnected, the actual people who were the ultimate beneficiaries were well and truly hidden.

As were most of the activities that these businesses were involved in.

You didn’t go to the trouble of hiding your identity or your activities unless you had something to hide.

I always knew this might have been the case, but I’d dismissed the idea. I trusted Jim to not be so stupid as to get involved with people like this.

I should have known better.

The problem I had now was, could I, in all good conscience, continue my association with a company that was involved with such people. These people were dangerous—that’s why they wanted to hide from the authorities the way they did. Could I continue to let my investors be associated with people who I knew were almost certainly on the wrong side of the law?

But at the same time, could I just walk away? Mel, Amber, Dom, not to mention Emma, had all put their trust in me to make our venture a success. Could I walk away from them? Could I let them down?

And then there was this modelling agency. It bothered me. EastEnd had been happy to let Dom work off her father’s debt, and I suspected they were heavily involved with prostitution. It wasn’t exactly a huge leap to think they were forcing or coercing the girls on the books at EuroGirlsUK to work in the adult industry. It wasn’t a huge leap to think that the agency was nothing more than a front for trafficking people for use in the sex trade.

I was pulled from my thoughts by the front door opening and closing. Seconds later, Mel walking into the kitchen. I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was half-seven. I’d been sitting thinking for an hour.

“Bobby? What are you doing up this early?”

I shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Too much to think about.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t expect you back this morning. I figured you’d go straight to the studio to start editing.”

“I thought about it. But then I looked in my wardrobe and realised that most of my favourite clothes are here.”

“Did you and Ashley have a good time?”

“Yes, thanks. She’s a fun girl.”

“Will I be shooting a scene with her any time soon?”

Mel shook her head. “No. It’s fun to talk about but it’s not for her. You might get a shot at her pussy privately though.”

I took a deep breath. “Mel ... Are you sure about this? Are you being fair to the girl? To yourself?”

“I told you yesterday, Dick. Trust me. I know what I’m doing.” She shrugged, then sat down opposite me and said, “It’s not like I haven’t done it before.”

“What? Seduced some waitress and then had her fuck some porn-dude?”

She picked up a slice of my toast, took a bite and put it down again. “This is cold.” She then took a sip of my coffee. “So is this.” She stood, took my cup and emptied it in the sink, then poured a fresh cup for me and one for herself from the percolator. She brought them back over to the table.

“I’m helping a confused young woman explore her sexuality safely and securely. She’s having fun. I’m having fun. And we’re not doing anything she doesn’t want to. If she tells me today that she wants to stop, we stop. If she tells me she wants to taste my pussy one last time before she goes back to being one hundred percent straight, that’s fine too. We’re having fun and she’s learning more about herself and what she likes. Where’s the harm?”

“And what’s in it for you?”

“She has a sweet-tasting pussy. Isn’t that enough?”

“I don’t think it is. I think you’re looking for more. What Dom and Amber have, for example?”

“Or what you and Emma have?” She sighed and shook her head. “I’ve told you before. Been there. Had my heart broken. Not doing it again.” She paused. “Not yet, at least.”

She sipped her coffee. “What had you up so early and thinking, anyway.”

I looked out of the window, then at Mel. “What do you know about EuroGirlsUK? And about Katerina Yakovich?”

Here I was again. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to this. But it was my career now. And honestly, I kind of liked it.

“Okay,” said Daisy, “We’re all set. You two ready?”

I nodded and Cindy-Lou clapped her hands and bounced in a decidedly jovial American way. We’d only met half an hour or so before but I already knew I liked this girl. And her friend and fellow American, Lizzie.

Cindy-Lou Parker and Lizzie Bennett both had that classic (almost stereotypical) American porn star look—young (they were both early twenties but looked younger), fresh and vibrant with tight, toned bodies, obviously fake boobs and long bleached blonde hair.

I was looking forward to fucking them both.

Parker and Lizzie were already on set, waiting on the bed. She was sitting on his lap and looked tiny next to him. Even fully clothed.

She’d look even smaller once he got that massive cock out.

I’m still convinced it was the biggest I’d ever seen.

Emma was standing just off the set. “Ready?” she said, with a smile.

I took a deep breath. “Honestly? I don’t know. Let’s just see, shall we? It’s been twenty-odd years since I had sex in the same room at the same time as another man. And this isn’t just another man, is it?”

“You’ll be fine. Better than fine. You always are. Just focus on the girl you’re with at the time rather than Parker. Do your thing and let him do his.”

“Places, please. You two, cut the chit chat,” said Daisy. I nodded and went to sit in the armchair. Cindy-Lou sat on my lap.

“You all know the drill,” Daisy said. “Quick fake interview, then swap partners and get on with it and swap back and forth a few times before the cum shots across both of their pretty faces, Dick first, then Parker. Okay?”

I put my hand on Cindy-Lou’s exposed tummy and rubbed it gently. She’d told me earlier it put her at ease. And turned her on.

I glanced across and saw Parker rubbing Lizzie’s leg. His ebony skin on her ivory leg ... Yeah, I understood why interracial stuff sold well.

Although, the size of his cock was a big draw too.

As was the size of mine.

“Rolling,” Daisy said. “And ... Action.” Everyone standing around the set to watch went quiet.

“Dick, Cindy-Lou, welcome to Triple X Wife Swap. Tell me Dick, why are you both here?”

Time for my lines. I didn’t like learning lines, but it was part of the job.

“Well,” said Cindy-Lou, beating me to it. “Dick has a great cock...”

“But it’s thick, rather than long,” I said.

“And while it stretches me like no other I’ve ever had—”

“She wants to feel something deeper than I can give her.”

“Not all the time,” she said, looking me in the eyes. “But once in a while.”

“For my part,” I said, “I want to give her what she wants. Plus, I want to see her get fucked. I mean look at her. She’s got a great body and it’s going to be awesome seeing her get fucked.”

“Well,” said Daisy, “With a bit of luck, you’ll be too busy to watch properly.”

“True, but I can watch the video later. I get a free copy, right?”

Daisy now turned to Parker and Lizzie and interviewed them. Their answers were pretty much the same. She liked her husband’s long cock, but wanted a fat one that really stretched her cunt to its limits.