Chapter 7

After a little discussion, Ana and I decided that we liked the location of our house, but agreed that it could use a little remodeling. We moved into a penthouse apartment in downtown LA while the contractors completely demolished the 'old' house and began building the new one to our specifications.

Sarah Pasternak occupied only a small part of my attention. I started investigators looking for Wolfgang Holtzman, or anyone who matched the description Sarah had given me.

While that was going on, I began the active portion of my plan.

"You know the drill, Jessica," I told Sonnenburg's wife, as she knelt before me, hands bound behind her back. She did know the drill, and with practiced ease, took me all the way down her throat.

"I'm sure it hasn't escaped you that your husband's an idiot," I told her as she lovingly swallowed me, again and again, nodding her agreement with my assessment.

"If he didn't have his head so far up his ass, he'd be hedging his bets and converting some of his refining capacity to the production of bio-fuels," I told her, as if thinking aloud, "instead of waiting until the last drop of oil has been sucked from the ground."

That was all the conversation I had with her that day. I let her swallow my discharge, then made her kneel on the floor and rest her head and shoulders on the bed while her expensive Rhodesian Ridgeback screwed her like the bitch she wanted to be. Once the dog had locked with her and emptied himself in her stretched pussy, he lifted a leg and turned until he was tail-to-ass with her. That's when I entered her nether opening and fucked it until she came, loud, long, and despairingly, as I emptied myself inside her.

When I got done, the dog, still locked in her, decided he wanted another turn, and managed to turn himself around and mount her again. Jessica rolled her eyes in my direction.

"How?" she asked, as the dog had his way with her.

"How what, Jessica?" I responded.

"How - huh - do you - huh - always know what I need - huhuh - when I don't know, myself?"

I smiled and used my forefinger to tidy the sweaty, bedraggled hair that hung fetchingly across one eye. "Your body tells me, Jessica."

I cleaned myself and waited patiently for them to finish. Finally, the dog deflated enough to uncouple and went off to the corner to lick himself. I untied the wife of one of the richest men in the world and helped her clean herself up before leaving to visit with her husband at his office.

"Damnit, Gustafson," Walt spluttered, spittle spraying all over his mahogany desk, "I told you before: we're an oil company. That's what our investors bought stock in, and that's what we're going to be for the foreseeable future!"

"And just where are you going to get the oil to refine and sell at usurious prices, Walt?" I asked him.

"I've got commitments on a number of untapped leases that my geologists tell me have billions of barrels of oil just waiting to be tapped," he answered smugly, "I'll be long retired before this company runs out of oil."

"Will you Walt?" I asked. "When was the last time you checked on those leases? You know how good a promise is these days, and desperate people do desperate things. Go ahead. Make the call. I'll wait."

His face suddenly ashen, Sonnenburg picked up the phone on his desk and punched a speed-dial number. It took only seconds for him to get to the person he wanted to talk to, and even less time to learn the bad news.

"What have you done, Gustafson!?" he asked, dread in his voice as he let the receiver fall into it's slot.

"Me?" I asked innocently. "What makes you think I've done anything? I do like to keep my finger on the pulse, however, and that's a habit a man your position should probably adopt as well. Have a nice life, Walt!"

Smiling, I left him sitting, stunned, in the luxury of the office that wasn't going to be his much longer if he didn't find a way out of the mess in which he suddenly found himself

My bugs picked up their conversation that evening when Walt got home from a frustrating day at the office.

"What's wrong, dear?" Jessica asked, handing him his evening Martini as he took off his tie.

"It's just some work stuff, dear," Walt answered absent-mindedly. "Nothing for you to worry about."

"Oh really?" Jessica asked archly, "Get out of those clothes! Now! I'll decide what I should worry about, and you'll learn your place in this household if I have to beat you black and blue! Tell me you little wimp, before I rip that pathetic excuse for a dick right off of you!"

"Yes, dear," Walt answered meekly. "You remember those oil leases I told were all but locked up?"

I heard the rustle of clothing as Walt got undressed.

"Of course," Jessica answered irritably. "Don't forget the socks. They won't go with your outfit."

I heard grunting as the overweight executive bent over to remove his socks. "Somebody else jumped in and took them right out from under our noses!"

"Well, you've still got your middle-eastern suppliers, right? Here, I think these panties will do nicely. You won't be wearing them for very long, anyway."

"Thank you, Mistress," Walt said, slipping deep into his other role - the one he didn't think anyone else knew about. "Yeah, but they keep promising to increase production and don't deliver. Frankly, I believe they're maxed out. They're most likely at the point where they have to pump a bit, then wait for the oil to pool again. It won't be long before their capacity will start to decrease, just like some of our old wells. I just don't know what we're going to do! I was counting on those leases to fill in as the OPEC production starts to decline."

"Here, put this slip on," Jessica, clearly, was a different person with Walt than she was with me. "I think I'll use the big one tonight. You'd best use lots of lube, 'cause I'm going to ride you hard."

"Yes, Mistress," Walt answered. "I still don't know what I'm going to do about those leases. It seems that suddenly, all those leases we've been counting on to keep us going have disappeared! We thought we'd have at least another decade of oil, now I don't know!"

"You're an idiot, Wanda!" Jessica said disgustedly, and there was no mistaking the sound of a whip smacking flesh, followed by Walt's sharp cry. "Why the hell don't you start converting your refining capacity to alternative fuel production? You'll still profit from your oil operation while you're making the switch. Hell, just the by-products, the plastics and cosmetics and so forth will be enough to keep you profitable even if you never see another drop of crude. Bend over bitch! I'm going to fuck some sense into you if it's the last thing I do!"

Anastasia, sitting in my lap as we listened, turned and gave me a very special smile.

"You did a wonderful job on those oil leases, my dear," I told her.

"Thank you," she said seductively, on the way to nipping delightfully at my ear, "but what are you going to do with them?"

"What would you do, if you were me?" I asked.

Ana sat up straight and looked me in the eye, not minding at all that my eyes had to leave behind the vision of her lovely breasts to meet her equally lovely gaze.

"Is this a test, lover?" she asked.

"Call it an exercise, sweetheart," I answered, smiling. "I know you have a prodigious brain to complement that formidable body, and I enjoy watching you put it to work at least as much as I enjoy the way you employ your body."

Ana smiled in spite of herself. Many women might have thought it an empty compliment, but Ana was coming to know me well enough to know that I was not given to such frivolities.

"As Jessica says, there are still many products made from petroleum besides fuel," she mused, "and when the big oil concerns have pumped the last of the oil from the ground and we must finally convert to alternative energy sources, there will still be a need for such products. I think I would hold those leases in reserve until that time, and make a killing by selling them to the highest bidder."

"You are truly a beautiful person, Anastasia," I told her, caressing her intimately.

"Oh, god, Nils!" Laura Shapiro cried as she rode me to her third orgasm in as many minutes, sitting astride my hips like the cowgirl she used to be. "I haven't felt like this in years! How can I ever repay you?"

"Well, you could whisper something in your husband's ear," I told her.

"I can try," she shrugged, "but he's too busy chasing skirt to listen to me."

"Well, you know what they say: 'If you hear something often enough, it takes on a ring of truth.'" I told her, "and I happen to know that he'll be hearing it, or something like it, from other sources, too."

As a matter of fact, at that very hour, my lovely wife was whispering into the chairman of the board's ear. "You know what I heard, Harvey?"

"No, my lovely, what did you hear," he thrust mightily with his five inch penis, imagining that it was a fearsome weapon.

Ana grunted convincingly before answering, "I heard that Megadyne is running out of crude to refine and is switching to bio-fuels. I guess it won't be long before the rest of the industry follows."

That brought the Chairman of the Board of Consolidated Arms up short. "Where did you hear that?"

"Now, Harvey," Ana pouted, "Would you want me telling others what I hear from you? No, dear man, I only thought you might like to know, in confidence, something that might affect your company's business, and that only because you're one of my favorite lovers. I just love the way you fuck me! So forceful! The way a powerful man should fuck! Ooh, yeah! Do it again!"

So he did. That night, Ana was at my side as we listened in on the dinner conversation at the Shapiro mansion.

"Was he too rough on you, my dear?" I asked playfully.

She gave me a disdainful look and said, "Oh please! The only thing rough about Harvey Shapiro is handling all that extra weight he carries around. I do hope I'm not going to have to do that too often."

"Well, we should have a pretty good indication, soon," I told her, as the sound of silverware on fine china came through the bugs.

"I overheard something interesting at the health club today, dear," Laura's voice said.

"Oh?" From the tone of his voice, Harvey could have cared less about what she had overheard.

"Well, I remember you talking about your company's reliance on diesel, and that Megadyne was a big supplier," Laura said. She may only have been a trophy wife, but she was smart enough to know how to get her husband's attention when she really needed to.

"Yes," Harvey answered, interest suddenly apparent in his voice. "What of it?"

"Well, I couldn't see who was speaking," she replied, "but whoever it was said that Megadyne had lost out on a bunch of oil leases they had expected to be drilling, and was running out of viable sources of crude."

"Go on..."

"Well, apparently they did some math and found out that they could start converting their refineries to bio-fuels production and still remain profitable. According to whoever it was, they'll begin switching over to bio-diesel and ethanol in just a couple of months."

"I see..." said Harvey, clearly thinking deeply about what he had heard.