Debt

Now I don't mind lending a mate money if he's in a jam but I do expect him to pay it back once he's out of that jam. I've even been known to 'lend' a mate money knowing that there was no way on God's earth that he'd be able to repay. The guy was in a real bind and I was happy to help. I also know that if he ever got things together he'd either pay me back as a matter of course or pass on the loan to someone else in need.

My attitude towards Mike right now was something else. He'd been in a bind. His firm was financially strapped, the bank wouldn't lend him any more money, and he had a payroll to meet. Now I knew that his firm was just having a cash flow problem and that if he could stay open just a little longer some overdue payments would come in and he'd be right. His long term prospects were good.

Why, you ask, won't the bank lend him any more cash if his long term prospects were so good? The reason was those long term prospects. If they could foreclose on him they had an eager buyer waiting to take over the company. I suspected that a back-hander might have taken place but it's not something easily proved. So I lent Mike enough to see him through.

He got his overdue payments and he also landed a couple of fat contracts that he'd had in the wings. The firm's temporary crisis was past and he was looking good. I had quietly made myself aware of his current financial status and he was well able to pay back the loan without adversely impacting the firm. Trouble is, he didn't. He gave me promises and excuses but not my cash.

I bided my time and one evening I dropped in to see him. He was all smiles and how are you, right up until I broached the loan repayment.

"No problems, George," he assured me. "As soon as Sanderson's settle I'll be around with the cash. I can't tell you what a lifesaver that loan was."

"Glad to have been of help," I told him. "I'm glad you mentioned Sanderson. He settled with you this morning. Paid in full I believe."

"Oh. Ah, that's right, now that you mention it. I'll be around to draw the money just as soon as their cheque clears. I'll deliver it to you personally."

"No need to wait for the cheque to clear. My understanding is that Sanderson included ten thousand in cash which you did not deposit in the bank. It's either in your safe at work or in your house safe. That's more than enough to cover what you owe me."

Mike wasn't nearly so happy now. He was giving me a shifty look.

"Ah, yeah, that money. Unfortunately that's ear-marked for a bill I have to pay off first thing in the morning."

"Not any more. I dropped in at Trevor's place and told them that you were very sorry but your settlement on your new BMW will have to wait until the Sanderson's cheque cleared. They were very understanding. They know that these things happen. They'll hold the car for another week."

Damn right they would. They didn't sell a new BMW every day. They had a substantial deposit on the thing. No way they'd give it back just because he was a little late with the balance.

"Ah, well that money is out at the factory. How about I get it Monday morning and deliver it to you. It's not as though I was going to stiff you."

"I know you're not going to stiff me," I told him with a slight smile. From the look on his face he didn't like my smile. "How about you drive around to the factory right now and bring the money back with you. I'll wait. I wouldn't be able to see you on Monday because I'd be in court filing for a bankruptcy petition."

"You're that hard up?" he asked, sounding hopeful. If he could stall until I filed for bankruptcy he might get out of paying me at all. After all, I had no documentation proving he owed me the money.

"Oh, not me," I said. "I'd be filing against someone else."

Geez, the man was slow. I could see him wondering who else owed me money and might be in a bind and wondering how he could take advantage. Muriel, his wife, had been sitting quietly on the couch, listening to our conversation with much amusement. She spoke up.

"He means against you, dipshit," she told him. "Stop being such a tight-arse and go and get the man his money. You were praising him to the skies when he saved your bacon. Now's the time to pay him back."

"It'll take me at least half an hour to get there and back. Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

"No. I don't mind waiting. Muriel can make me a cup of coffee while I wait."

Mike departed, unhappy but resigned to the fact that he had to repay the loan. He was just lucky I wasn't charging him interest.

"He's a real tightwad when it comes to repaying loans," Muriel observed. "It's just his way."

"He's also a miser when it comes to paying accounts," I observed. "He's been pushing the limits with some of these boys. If he doesn't start sorting out his accounts payable then he just might find that he's going to run into problems getting credit. I know of a couple of parts suppliers who are starting to get wary of doing business with him. If I were you I'd lean on him to get a better accountant. His current one is too much under his thumb."

"I'll take that on board," Muriel assured me. She would, too. She might be young but she was smart and had her head screwed on properly. So much smarter than Mike that I figured it wouldn't be long before she controlled the firm with Mike as the figurehead. Good luck to her. The firm would benefit.

She looked at and smiled.

"I suppose I should offer you some coffee while you wait," she observed.

I looked at her. The sun was coming through the window behind her and she was only wearing a light dress. Even lighter with the sun shining through it. She was an attractive young woman, very attractive.

"Instead of coffee why don't you take off your dress so I can properly appreciate your figure?" I suggested. "We can have coffee afterwards."

"You're joking, of course," she said, giving me an amused look.

"No," I said. "Why would I joke about something like that? I know you have an excellent figure and I want to admire it without the dress getting in the way."

"Seriously," she said. "You know I can't do that."

"I know no such thing. Nothing to stop you as far as I can see. It's only your dress I'm asking you to remove, nothing else."

I paused while she was giving me a considering look. Before she could open her mouth to refuse (or agree) I went on.

"You'll find I'm quite capable of removing your bra and panties myself."

"Really, George," she said in a very put-upon voice. "You can't make suggestions like that. Haven't you ever heard of finesse?"

"Certainly. I have a whole bottle full of it at home. It does make things go more smoothly, I admit, but also much slower. I don't want to have to wait a week before making a move. I want you now."

"Well, that's putting it on the line for me, isn't it? However, I don't feel like taking off my dress right now. Anything you ask, the answer will have to be no."

"Can I hold you to that?"

Muriel looked puzzled. I gave her a nice evil smile.

"Are you going to object if I take your dress off for you? No, you say?"

Her dress was definitely a summer type dress. Brush the shoulder straps off and it should be possible to slide it down off her. I suppose the correct way would be to lift it over her head but from my point of view down would be easier. I stepped closer to her, brushed the straps off her shoulders then hooked onto the dress and pulled it down. I was right. It came down and off very easily, finishing up pooled around her feet.

"I can't believe you did that," Muriel assured me, looking slightly stunned.

"Believe," I told her. "Next question, do you want me to take your bra off next?"

"No," came the immediate reply, and I nodded.

"Like I thought. Panties it is."

With that I hitched my fingers onto her panties and tugged them down, letting them join her dress. I brushed my fingertips against her mons as I stood back up.

"I do like a nicely shaved mons," I murmured.

Muriel was looking both enraged and frustrated, not knowing quite what to say. I didn't bother to ask about her bra. We both knew I was going to take it off no matter what she said. I had noticed it was a front fastening bra which made it easier. (So embarrassing to go fumbling around her back and not finding a catch.) I just reached over and unclipped it and let it fall. It was strapless, probably because the straps would have shown with that dress.

I very gently brushed my hands across her breasts, feeling her nipples dragging against my palms. That light touch was all that was needed for those sensitive little buds to stretch out for more attention.

I stood back and admired the view. Muriel was flushed and annoyed. She no longer looked really angry, just vastly irritated that I'd undressed her. She was also, I was happy to note, not trying to play silly buggers with her hands, quite defiantly letting me look at everything she had, and it was well worth looking at.

"So what now?" she demanded. "Are you going to try to jump me?"

"Oh, please, that would be so crass," I protested. "I'm quite willing to just enjoy the view. Of course, I'm also quite willing to enjoy a damn sight more than that but that would be up to you, now wouldn't it."

I gave her my most innocent smile. From the disbelieving look on her face it couldn't have been as innocent as I wanted.

"You're just going to stand and look at me?"

"Well," I said slowly, "I have to admit that if your breasts keep on pointing at me that way I might be tempted to stroke them. They look as though they want some attention."

Muriel glanced down at her breasts and blushed. Her breasts had swollen slightly and her nipples were certainly pointing at me. She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it again, glaring. Apparently she didn't know what to say.

"I'm quite willing to be fair about this," I said. "Feel free to remove any of my clothes that you want to. Do you believe in mental telepathy?"

"What?" The sudden change of subject threw her.

"Mental telepathy - the ability to send your thoughts to another person's mind. I've been practising it. See if you can guess what I'm trying to tell you."

I moved a little closer and placed my hands on her shoulders. I might have been pressing down on them a little but so little you'd hardly notice. It must have been my thoughts she was catching. She sank slowly to her knees, reached over, and unzipped me.

I was past ready for anything that might happen. When she unzipped me it was a wonder that my cock didn't leap out and seize her. As it is she calmly pulled it out of my trousers, leaned forward, and her mouth took hold of me. God, yes, mental telepathy certainly worked on this occasion.

Talk about sweet torture. If things like this were permitted at Guantanamo Bay the terrorists would be queueing up to be tortured. They'd be spilling everything they knew just to keep the torture going.

Muriel worked my cock with all the expertise of a seasoned pro. Lips, tongue and teeth all came into play, turning a standard erection into a raging hard-on. What she was doing to me should have been illegal. What I wanted to do to her probably was.

I could stand only so much of what she was doing. Her mouth wasn't where I wanted to be when I finished. Using an excess of will-power I managed to pull away from her, my clock red and swollen and glistening with her saliva.

"Get on your fucking hand and knees," I told her, my voice a hoarse rasp.

Muriel slowly did so, facing away from me but looking at me over her shoulder the entire time, an insufferably smug smirk on her face. I moved up behind her, sinking down onto my knees.

"Are you going to say no now?" I growled.

"No," she said, that damned smirk even more pronounced.

My hand was on her pussy, parting her lips. She was hot and wet and ready and I was aligned and driving home before she could say anything else. I drove fully into her with that first desperate drive, sinking my all and letting my groin slap loudly against her. I didn't stop at that. I pulled almost the full way out and then drove in again, just as hard, just as fast, just as desperate, my thrust jolting her entire body.

She'd grunted each time I slammed into her, an involuntary sound that seemed to include a touch of satisfaction. By the time I was driving in for a third stroke she was getting with the action, pushing back to meet me just as enthusiastically as I was driving in.

By now I had my hands on her breasts, crushing them in my grip, rubbing them harshly, rolling her nipples under my palms. I was set into a fine rhythm now, driving, driving, driving, into her, letting her feel my need, my passion.

If I was showing her what I wanted Muriel was certainly reciprocating. She was bucking under me in fine style, pushing hard to meet me, her abilities and responses giving me cause to wonder if there was an academy that trained young ladies. If she attended one I was positive she'd graduated at the top of her class.

Oddly enough, when she had me in her mouth I thought I was going to explode at any moment. Now I was where I wanted to be I was holding up just fine, taking my pleasure from her, feeling I could do this for quite a while. The frantic urge had gone but the passion and pleasure remained. It wasn't my doing, either. Somehow Muriel had taken charge of my cock and was keeping my needs balanced with her own.

The next few minutes might have been somewhat repetitious but some things bear repeating. I kept going at her as though there was no tomorrow and I had to do all my fucking right at this moment. It seemed to me that she was reacting in a similar fashion.

Except for a few groans and gasps I was rather quiet during this session, discounting the loud slapping sound of meat against meat. Not so Muriel. Her initial couple of grunt/gasps rapidly expanded into sighs and groans and pleas and cries of yes and then degenerated into some quite colourful language, all of which was suggesting that I keep doing what I was doing.

As if anything could have stopped me. I took her hard and long and tirelessly. I nearly wept when nature tapped me on the shoulder and said time's up, give her your best. I found myself moving even faster, driving in at a redoubled rate, desperate to finish off in style. Then she was screaming and I was feeling like screaming and she was climaxing and I was happily joining in.

When Mike returned Muriel and I were sitting in the kitchen drinking our coffee. He slumped down in a chair while Muriel hopped up to pour him a cup. Pulling out his wallet he passed me a wad of notes. He then put on a very irritated face as I counted it.

He was even more irritated when I pointed out that he'd miscounted and was a thousand short. He didn't argue though, just reaching for his wallet and pulling out another smaller wad and handing it to me. The bastard had deliberately tried to short-change me.

"I won't be borrowing from you again," he told me rather disdainfully.

Damn right he wouldn't. At least, not without a contract, interest agreed on, a repayment schedule, and some sort of guarantee. Still, his business looked set to do really well so he shouldn't have any more problems with cash flow. Seeing he'd got past this hurdle the banks would probably be kinder in the future.

I thanked him, bade him and Muriel good-night and departed.

The only problem I had was what would I do if Muriel asked for a loan instead of Mike? I'd watch their situation with interest. I was betting that Muriel would be in charge of the firm within a year. Time would tell.