Chapter 33: Clever. Very

When I returned to the office next day after "lunch" — actually a very enjoyable session with Gina and an adorably cute black girl professionally called Sable, short but very curvy with nice big pendulous tits, an excellent choice — I was greeted by the news that I had had three urgent messages from an Elspeth Smith. On checking my cellphone I found no fewer than five further messages from her. Plainly something serious was afoot. With great trepidation I went to my office and rang her back.

Poor Elspeth was in a state of agitation and dismay. She was so upset I was unable to ascertain exactly what had happened, but she said that she had messed everything up, that she had let me down, that she had panicked and had not thought what she was saying. She was sure that I would be furious with her, "And you have every right to be. I've been so stupid." It was evident that the poor girl hardly knew where to put herself.

I felt that if I left her in this state she might do even more damage than she apparently already had, so I decided to bring her fully under control immediately. "You'd better come to London right away to see me," I told her. "I'll meet you at Liverpool Street."

"Oh, James, I don't want to mess around with trains. Can't I drive up?"

I had not realised she had a car, but it would be more convenient, I thought.

"Are you sure you're all right to drive?"

"Yes, yes," she assured me. "I feel much better now I know I can see you. You'll know what to do."

"All right. But drive carefully." I told her to meet me at my local tube station in two hours. This allowed her ample time to get to London without feeling she had to hurry; it also gave me a chance to attend to one or two things at work, warn Fran and Connie that I should be letting them down yet again, and invent some story to justify such an early departure.

I arrived at the station five minutes early and was unsurprised to find Elspeth awaiting me. She was plainly delighted to see me but also seemed nervous and apprehensive. So much so, in fact, that I could not elicit a clear explanation of the problem but I gathered that it was something to do with a Dr Laura Stone, whoever she was. As Elspeth drove me the short distance home her agitation seemed to ease but she kept looking at me rather more often than was consistent with safe driving, and as we turned the last corner before my house she hit the kerb quite hard.

"Careful," I cautioned.

"Sorry, James. It's just that I'd forgotten quite how lovely you are."

I had, in fact, been thinking much the same about her. She had medium-length dark brown hair, parted in the middle, that framed a bright, lively face with a wonderful smile. Behind her round glasses her big brown eyes sparkled with intelligence as well as the lovelight that I was coming to expect as my due. She was wearing a shortish white dress that displayed an exceptionally graceful pair of legs, which, like the rest of her, displayed a rich golden tan.

My original plan had been to get her home and question her in more detail, but I feared that her nervousness might return and make it hard to get a sensible account from her. So I came up with Plan B, which was that I should take her upstairs and fuck her brains out. Obviously this would knock her out for some time, but when she recovered she would answer my questions without difficulty. It would mean a long wait before I found out what had happened, but on the plus side, I reflected, Kylie would be home from school in about half an hour and would help me pass the time.

Plan B was a great success. As soon as we got in the house I took Elspeth in my arms and kissed her. Such was her passion that her knees literally gave way and but for my firm hold she would have collapsed. With a little difficulty (I am not so young as I used to be) I picked her up and carried her upstairs as she kissed me and tried to squirm out of her clothing. Then I laid her on the bed and, well, laid her on the bed. It was done, I must admit, without a great deal of finesse but as always my balls seemed somehow aware of the presence of a new cunt and the flow of spunk seemed endless.

Leaving Elspeth somewhere the other side of ecstasy I went downstairs for refreshment and to await the sound of Kylie's key in the lock next door. As soon as I heard it I called her to come over and soon she was lying blissed-out in Alicia's room.

Whatever anyone might say against FUCK, and it had certainly caused me a great deal of stress and anxiety over the past three weeks, there was no denying it lived up to its name. And take my word for it, if you are fat and nearly fifty, there is nothing like fucking an endless stream of enthusiastic young women to make you feel good about life.

While I waited for Elspeth to surface I turned on my computer and googled Dr Laura Stone. She had her own website, I soon found, and to my surprise her picture revealed not the forbidding middle-aged dragon I had imagined but a distinctly attractive woman in her twenties. I took a few details, including particulars of The Female Future, a book she had written. She was unmistakably intelligent; but why was Elspeth so worried about her?

In fact, even when Elspeth became available for questioning I failed to get to the bottom of the mystery because although she was wholly co-operative, she proved not to be in possession of all the facts. The full story, had she been able to tell it, would have gone something like this.

After questioning Elspeth the previous Thursday, Dr Laura Stone had formed the working theory that her student was probably having an affair with some married man on the academic staff. Her interest and her suspicion both thoroughly aroused, she had casually introduced Elspeth's name into conversations with colleagues. However, no one had reacted in a way that struck Laura as significant, although one or two of them commented that the girl's mind did not seem to be on her work. After these fruitless inquiries it is possible that Laura might have forgotten about the whole subject had her interest not been rekindled by an overheard conversation in the college refectory next day.

That morning all the popular newspapers had been full of a story about a Hollywood film star, famous for preserving his rugged good looks into his early sixties, who had been captured by long-lens photographers snogging a gorgeous publicity girl barely a third his age. Two female students were gossiping excitedly about this trivial piece of tabloid tittle-tattle and Laura, sitting with her back to them as she lunched alone, was trying to ignore them.

"Eurgh!" said one.

"I know," agreed her friend. "He's so old. What sort of girl would do something like that?"

"Elspeth," suggested the first.

Laura stopped chewing and pricked up her ears. She no longer wanted to ignore the conversation.

"What, Elspeth Smith? What do you mean?" demanded the second student.

"Well," explained the first, "the other day we were walking to a lecture and I asked her, just making conversation really, what the Marjoribanks twins' birthday do had been like and was there any decent talent on show? And she said there were a few boys but they were really boring. I said they couldn't all have been boring and she said yes they were, boys our age were always boring, older men were the only ones worth bothering with. And then she went off on this long spiel about how older men were so exciting, sophisticated and sexy."