handed in my notice the next day.
"In some ways I'm disappointed in you," snuffled Mike, my boss. "You've been a good, steady worker and I had hoped you might make something of yourself. However, I've noticed a change in you recently which I'm not sure I approve of."
As the 'making something of myself' involved waiting ten or so years until he retired and inheriting his job, I was hardly overwhelmed at the compliment. He wanted me to work the full four weeks and take my accumulated holiday leave in pay so we argued a bit before he accepted I would leave in three weeks.
I was amused by the reactions to my news. Some, mostly the younger men, professed admiration at my brave move and wished they could do what I had done, particularly when it got out that I didn't have another job lined up. I had some childish fun giving everybody a different story of my long-term plans; scuba diver, ghillie, bus driver, martial arts expert, and so on. The younger and more impressionable the enquirer, the more exotic and outlandish the occupation. The second group was confined to the older men with families and mortgages. Several of them took me aside and tried to persuade me that I was making a foolish move which I would regret in time. I smiled politely and thanked them for their concern. The third, and probably the largest group, just thought I was a fool. They would probably have held that opinion whether I stayed or left so it didn't much matter either way.
The rest of my time there passed in a bit of a blur. To say I wasn't focussed would be an understatement. I went through the motions with the minimum of effort. After all, if things went according to plan I could well end up affording to buy the whole company in a few years time.
The only item of note occurred a couple of days before I left. I decided to achieve my one ambition and persuaded Charles to use his influence on Miss Bitch. He was surprisingly reluctant, saying that she was not the right sort but went along with it at my insistence. Knowing that the Senior Manager was out of the office, I stepped into the outer sanctum, ostensibly to say my farewells. It only took five minutes before I had her bent over her desk with her skirt up over her waist her knickers down at her knees and her tits hanging out of the starched blouse and was banging away at her from the rear. Charles had been right: she was a most disappointing fuck. Still, I had the satisfaction of leaving with the image of her scrabbling about for some tissues with my cum trickling down the inside of her thigh.
There was the inevitable collection and presentation. I was known as being a bit of a bookworm so I genuinely appreciated the gift of book tokens. Mike, never very good as the centre of attention, stumbled his way through the leaving speech embarrassing everybody including himself. I felt a bit sorry for him as I had been a fairly anonymous employee and was leaving for no obvious good reason. I kept my remarks short, quoting Bilbo Baggins about not knowing half of them half as well as I should like and liking less than half of them half as well as they deserved. A few, mostly my closer acquaintances, saw the reference and smiled while the rest were as puzzled as Bilbo's guests had been. Then it was off to the pub for the inevitable excessive drinking that seem to be an inevitable feature of leaving dos. I told Charles to keep me slightly tipsy no matter how much I had to drink. There were the usual protestations of undying friendship and drunken pleas to keep in touch. More than one took me aside and tried to find out exactly what I intended. With each I planted the idea that I might well go abroad for a while so that my disappearance wouldn't be questioned. Eventually most drifted away and I was left with the small group that I could almost class as friends. Again I hinted that I might travel for a while. The requests to keep in touch were more sincere and I promised I would look then up if I was ever back in the vicinity. We all knew it wouldn't happen and, within six months I would be remembered only by a few as an idle enquiry over coffee. Finally it was all over and I breathed a huge sigh of relief as I left the pub. One phase of my life was over and a new one was beginning.
Outside work, life was hectic. The first weekend, Tonia and I had gone shopping for antiques. We didn't buy anything in the first two places; I just let Charles find out what he needed to know. When he was satisfied, we made our first purchase; a rather nice clock that Charles 'persuaded' the owner to part with at little more than he paid for it. Tonia ran interference, showing a little more leg than was decent and letting the man stare down the front of her blouse while she flirted outrageously. I almost felt sorry for the poor man. He was sweating heavily when we left.
"That was fun," she said.
"You're turning into an exhibitionist," I chided, "and a sadist. He nearly came in his pants when you patted his cheek."
"Nonsense. It was just a bit of harmless fun. I'm sure his wife will be very grateful tonight."
"For a lady accountant, you're incorrigible."
"So, shall we sell this clock? It seems a shame, though, I rather like it."
"I'll get Charles to make you one."
"It won't be the same," she sighed.
I had never been hooked on the mystique of antiques. "Whyever not? It'll look just the same as this one. No-one will be able to tell the difference."
"I'll know, though."
"Well, we'll sell Charles's one and you can keep the original if it means that much to you."
"Would you do that for me? That's sweet." And in the middle of the street she kissed me soundly.
Out of sight I had Charles reproduce the clock. We took the duplicate to another shop where we 'persuaded' the dealer to part with considerably more money than he would have normally. In fact, given his way, he would have offered us somewhat less than we had paid for it, having taken us for a couple of rich ignoramuses. We gave him his money back, though, by acquiring a rather good occasional table.
As we had not wanted to risk the original owner finding his clock on sale in the shop next door, we had driven to the other side of town. Now we were faced with the prospect of returning to sell the table.
"This is a lot of work for not much return," I grumbled over lunch.
"I don't know. We've managed to slide several hundreds of Charles's pounds into circulation and, when we sell the table, we'll have made profit of several hundred more. Not bad for the first day. And, besides, it's fun," Tonia replied.
"Saints preserve me from women and shopping," I said, raising my eyes to heaven.
"What's wrong with shopping?"
"Nothing at all, so long as I don't have to do it."
"Pooh, you're no fun to be with."
"It's not meant to be fun; it's business. At this rate it'll take months to get enough to break into the property market. We need a different approach."
"We'd get on better if we bought lots of things at once. Then we wouldn't need to keep traipsing all over town."
"But it could be dangerous trying to sell them just down the road, so to speak. For all I know there's an antique dealer's union and they all get together every week to compare notes."
"Does Charles know?"
Charles did indeed know or, at least, he had picked up the feeling that the antiques world was fairly small and tight knit.
"How about we bought a load of stuff here and sold it somewhere else. Would that work?"
"It might. It would certainly be more efficient. And we could buy a load more there and sell it here."
"Then we could repeat the process but this time in a different town."
"But that would mean that, every other week we would be back here. That would arouse suspicion for sure."
"We'd have to go on a round trip." She sighed. "You know, this isn't turning out to be as simple as I'd envisaged."
"I agree. It's so frustrating. I can make as much money as I like but I can't do anything with it without arousing the eyes of the law, not to mention the tax people and probably the VAT man, too."
The prospect of traipsing round the country in a van every weekend for a few thousand pounds filled us with gloomy silence and, by unspoken consent we abandoned the antiques shuttle and went home or, at least, to my flat which seemed to have become our unofficial home. We were sitting despondently in the living room, staring blankly at the football results, an empty wine bottle on the coffee table when Lola came in several hours later.
"Hi, guys." She seemed even bubblier than usual which only made us more depressed. "What's cooking?"
"Not a lot."
"You two don't seem full of the joys."
"We're not."
"Never fear, Lola's here - and I've found the answer to our problems. We're going on holiday."
"If that's meant to be a joke, it's in particularly bad taste."
"It's not a joke. The answer to our problems is to go on holiday."
"Be serious, Lola. This antiques lark isn't going to work and we need to think of something different."
"I have," she couldn't keep the grin off her face. "I told you, we're going on holiday and we're going to be rich."
I sighed. "Okay, I'll play along. Why are we going on holiday and how are we going to be rich."
"It's the going on holiday that will make us rich."
"Lola, if you don't stop pissing around and tell us, I'm going to tie you up and beat it out of you," Tonia said angrily. "We've had a shitty day and we're not in the mood for silly games."
"Sorry. Suppose you tell me all about your bad day then I'll tell you my idea?"
We told her about our experience as antique dealers and why we thought the idea wouldn't work.
"I see the problem," she said when we had finished. "And you're right, it wouldn't work." Then her excitement bubbled over again. "But I have the answer."
"Okay, give."
"Like you I've been concerned that we can make as much cash as we want but can't get it into the system where it'll do any good. I was going round and round and getting nowhere until two unconnected things happened. The first was that my boss sent round an e-mail about a course we are all to go on to do with the new money laundering regulations." She looked angry. "Did you know that if anybody - banker, lawyer, estate agent, shop assistant - anybody, is involved in any sort of financial transaction and the source of the deal turns out to be a criminal, then the banker, or whoever, can go to gaol for not reporting their suspicions. Suspicions, mind you; no proof; no evidence; suspicions. What's more ignorance isn't accepted as a plea. So a drug dealer walks into a shop and buys a packet of cigarettes with money from a drug deal and they can put the shop assistant in gaol for not reporting that he was 'suspicious'. What is this country coming to, I ask you?"
She stopped to take a breath then noticed our expressions of astonishment. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. "It just gets me all wound up. I went into the legal profession because I believed that our laws were there to protect people and I wanted to help. Oh, the laws are there to protect people, all right, but not you or I; not the man or woman in the street. That's the last person they protect." She sounded bitter.
I gathered her in my arms and held her tightly. Tonia joined us and we sat silently, letting our love flow.
"Sorry about that," Lola said eventually, her usual cheerful self fully restored. "Where was I?"
"Other than on your high horse?" I teased. "You were talking about money laundering."
"Oh, yes. That was the first thing. The second thing was a colleague who was going on holiday to Spain. In best legal tradition, he'd been so caught up in work that he'd forgotten to get any Euros. We teased him, of course, then somebody asked why he was bothering. Why didn't he just get cash from his credit card. That's when the penny dropped and I saw how to play this."
She looked at us proudly obviously expecting a round of applause or, at least, some hearty congratulations. What she got was two blank stares.
"But it's obvious. Don't you see?"
"No."
"We need to get lots of cash into the system so we need somewhere where cash is common. People on holiday spend lots of cash. Holiday resorts are awash with the stuff so no-one's going to think twice about three rich tourists waving wads of money around. For the very same reason, banks in holiday resorts aren't going to think twice about people depositing cash - it goes on all the time. So a holiday resort is the ideal place to deposit money without anybody noticing."
"I get it," Tonia said, beginning to smile. "Lots of small transactions so it doesn't raise any alarm bells. I like it." She stopped and frowned. "But tourists normally take money out. Won't it look a bit odd if we're put it in?"
"We won't be putting it in ourselves. Charles can persuade friendly natives to help us."
"I'm warming to the idea," I said, feeling more confident myself. Lola's idea did seem as if it might work. And it would be a damned sight easier than buying and selling antiques, that was for sure.
"So far so good," Lola continued. "We've now got a way of getting the money in. The next question is; into where?"
"Why, our bank account, I suppose," I said doubtfully. I knew it wasn't the right answer.
"Oh, oh. I see the problem," Tonia said, nodding. "If our account suddenly swells by several tens of thousand of pounds, alarm bells will ring somewhere. Let me think a minute. We need lots of accounts - all over the place. We pay a small amount into each - say a thousand pounds. As soon as the money's in, we transfer it out and close the accounts. Hmm, no that's not good enough. We transfer the money from the first accounts to different accounts in other countries, maybe up to ten thousand in each. Then we transfer it again to somewhere else and so on. Finally it ends up in a corporate account in Switzerland or Nassau - definitely not one of the drug countries. Perhaps we could even use the Bundesbank. Then all we need to do is draw on these accounts through our official account here when we need capital. Actually we won't need to do that at all. We'll do everything by credit, using the foreign accounts as collateral." She paused for a moment then snapped her fingers. "Even better; we'll set up dummy companies in the various countries and use corporate financing. Much more difficult to trace and easier to manage. We'll even incorporate the Thompson Partnership as an off-shore company. Lola, girl, you're a genius. We'll put our heads together later and draw up a plan."
"You really think this'll work?" I asked.
The ladies nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes, it happens all the time - and not just with criminals. Companies do it too to keep our dear Chancellor from getting his grubby paws on their money. How do you think these guys can afford their yachts in Monte Carlo? Not by paying taxes, that's for sure," Tonia opined.
"Okay. Three questions. Where do we go? When do we go? And how long for?"
"Spain," Lola said decisively. "Costa Brava. Much nicer than further south and not so 'Anglified'. And lots of little resorts where we can spread our ill-gotten gains. Yes, it's ideal"
"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," I grinned. "What's the real reason, Lola?"
She grinned sheepishly. "Am I that transparent? I want to visit Barcelona. I've got a thing about Gaudi."
"It's as good a reason as any. It has my vote," Tonia said.
"We're agreed, then," I added.
"As to when," Lola continued, "there are two pre-conditions. First that our network of companies and accounts is firmly in place and, second, that Tonia and I have worked our notice."
"What?" we exclaimed.
She held up her hands. "Think about it. Once we're back here we're all going to be so busy spending your money that we won't have time for jobs. We don't have any money now, but we'll be rolling in it when we come back."
Tonia's eyes lit up. "Nine o'clock Monday morning," she said. "I can hardly wait to see their faces."
"While we're away, we'll put our flats on the market. I know a good conveyancing solicitor who'll screw the best price out of any buyer. We don't need the money, of course, but one has to keep up appearances. We'll keep this place until we find a proper home."
"But…" I demurred. "This place is small and not the best location and there's only one bedroom."
"So? How many beds do we need?" Lola asked with a leer.
"Since you put it like that…" I leered back. A thought occurred. "If I'm going to disappear, wouldn't it be better if we sold this place and kept one of yours?"
"Good point. We'll sell here and mine and doss down with Tonia."
"Why do we have to sell any place but here just now? Wouldn't it be better if you both kept your flats until we'd found somewhere else?"
"Well, I suppose…"
"And how are we going to explain my presence at either of your places?"
Lola thought for a moment then snapped her fingers. "I know. Tonia gets lucky on holiday and meets Mr Cashwads. He just happens to want to move here and she offers to put him up for a while. How does that sound?"
"Whew," Tonia said. "I smell burning bridges all around."
"Exciting, isn't it?" Lola grinned.
"So it's at least of four weeks, then," I said, a bit disappointed that it was going to take so long.
"At least," Lola said.
Tonia nodded. "I can get some of the bank accounts set up immediately but we need to get the companies up before I can do the rest."
"And that takes time, I'm afraid," Lola added.
"You know," I said with a sly smile, "I leave work in two weeks. I could always go on ahead and sort of get started."
Lola and Tonia exchanged glances.
"You could," Lola said carefully, as if giving the matter some thought, "though I doubt you'd enjoy life as a corpse."
As one, they pounced on me and wrestled me to the floor. They weren't trying to really hurt me but I had my hands full for several minutes trying to fend them off. I managed to pin Lola's arms behind her and was enjoying the sensation of her firm breasts squashed against me when I felt Tonia tugging at my shoes. In an attempt to pull my legs away, Lola got free and straddled my chest. As she was trying to put her knees on my shoulders and pin my arms down, Tonia succeeded in removing my shoes and began to attack my trousers. To distract Lola, I grabbed her breasts and squeezed. She squealed and clutched at my hands. This allowed me to roll over and dislodge her but Tonia grabbed my legs and sat on them. Lola seized the opportunity to pin my shoulders with her knees, this time with her bottom poised over my face. As Tonia tugged at my belt, she began calmly unfasten my shirt.
"Ladies," I groaned. "What have I done to deserve this harsh treatment?"
"What have you done?" Tonia cried in mock indignation. "What have you done? Only threatened to go off to Spain without us, that's what. Count yourself lucky we don't castrate you as well."
"It must be my lucky day, then," I said sarcastically.
Lola's bottom dropped onto my face.
"Mmph," I gurgled when I could breathe again. "This would be a lot more fun if your jeans weren't in the way."
"Now there's an idea," Lola said brightly. "The trouble is, if I get off you, you'll just try to escape."
"No I won't. Honest Injun."
"How do I know I can trust you?"
"I know," Tonia said, digging her hand inside my fly and grabbing my balls. "I've got him by the short and curlies, now."
"Ouch. I promise. I promise."
"I like your style, girl," Lola laughed, climbing off and shedding her jeans and panties. For good measure she removed the rest of her clothes as well.
"There's nothing like grabbing a man by his balls to keep him honest," Tonia said.
Lola resumed her position but tucked her heels under my arms this time. She lowered her round bottom onto my face and I was overwhelmed by her aroma; strong, sensual and musky, like Lola herself. I palmed her cheeks, partly to stop her accidentally sitting on my face and smothering me and partly for the sheer pleasure of feeling the elastic flesh and soft skin. Her neatly trimmed pubic hair was coarse against my tongue which I wiggled about until I had parted her outer labia enough to get my tongue inside and start licking. I heard Lola's indrawn hiss of breath as I licked up and down her slit in long, smooth strokes. She wasn't particularly aroused and the first thing I wanted to do was get her wet.
At the other end, Tonia was struggling to remove my jeans and underwear. I did what I could to assist but her mutterings were fairly colourful as she wrestled them off. For a brief moment the air of the room felt cool around my genitals before her warm mouth descended on my cock.
With this encouragement, I applied myself assiduously to Lola's pleasure. As I licked and sucked her labia softened and parted. Her odour became more pronounced and her juices began to flow. I had only performed cunnilingus occasionally, being too hesitant to insist when my then current girlfriend demurred, so I was uncertain of my technique. The taste and smell of Lola's cunt was overwhelming it made me feel light-headed and drove all thoughts of technique from my head. I dug my fingers into her buttocks and licked and sucked like a man possessed. Good technique or bad, Lola appeared to enjoy it. Overhead, I could hear little gasps and moans and she began to wriggle about, trying to push her cunt down on my mouth. I knew she needed her clitoris stimulated to make her cum and as I didn't know if she was multi-orgasmic or not, I tried to keep away from it despite the fact that she seemed to be intent on trying to get it into my mouth.
Tonia's mouth left my cock and I felt bereft. I could feel her moving about. Suddenly her hand wrapped itself around my erection and, the next moment it was surrounded by her hot, wet cunt. I groaned, which caused Lola to wriggle. She spread her knees wider to give me greater access to her cunt. I spread my thumbs and gently pried her labia apart. By craning my head, I managed to plant my mouth right over her cunt whereupon I stuck my tongue out as far as I could and wiggled it around while trying to maintain a sucking action.
Lola yelped and sat on my face.
"What's happening? What's he doing?" Tonia demanded.
"Only trying to suck me inside out," Lola gasped. "Bloody hell."
She began to rock back and forwards, trying to force my tongue further into her. The idea seemed to appeal to Tonia for she began to bounce up and down more vigorously.
"Oh God, yes," Lola said. "Squeeze them harder."
From that I guessed that Tonia had taken hold of Lola's breasts.
"Do the same to me," Tonia demanded. "Yes. My nipples. Oh, yes. Just like that."
I wished I could see. I've always had a thing about women teasing each other's breasts and the realisation that my two lovelies were doing just that where I couldn't watch was both frustrating and exciting. I clutched Lola's cheeks tightly and tried to fuck her with my tongue, not the easiest thing in this position. The heavy breathing above me grew heavier, punctuated by little pants and gasps and grunts. Tonia's movements became more urgent. Now was the time to tackle Lola's clit.
I scrunched my head down, searching for it. It wasn't hard to find as it had emerged from its protective hood and was fairly large. I flicked it with the tip of my tongue. She shuddered and gave a long, low moan.
"He's found my clit," she explained to Tonia.
Tonia gave a little moan of sympathy. She leant forward slightly and began to work her hips up and down in short, sharp movements. Lola shifted too, bringing her clitoris over my mouth. I accepted the invitation and closed my lips around it. Her moan of pleasure was abruptly cut short: I found out afterwards that Tonia had chosen that moment to stick her tongue down her friend's throat. I could sense that both of them were close although I wasn't sure I could engineer a three-way cum as I had the first night. As it was, Lola was first. She gave a muffled squawk and I could feel her abdomen rippling as her internal muscles contracted spasmodically. She dropped her weight on my face and a quantity of sticky, pungent fluid filled my mouth. Breathing was not an option and I swallowed hastily to avoid choking. I wouldn't say it tasted like nectar but it was Lola's and perfect for that very reason. I licked and sucked diligently, trying to clean her completely. Tonia had obviously released her lip lock for she was being very vocal as she neared her climax. I judged my moment then, with a command to Charles, surged off the bed and delivered my load deep inside her. That pushed her over the edge and her vagina clamped round my cock almost painfully though she continued to bump up and down gradually slowing down like a steam engine arriving at a station complete with a final hiss as she settled her weight on top of me. Breathing was now a priority. I pushed and pummelled at Lola to get her to move. I finally got her attention and she rolled off, instantly contrite, until she saw my face, that is, and burst into a fit of the giggles.
"I'm sorry," she gasped. "I don't mean to, but… your face… I know it's not funny but…"
I couldn't see the humour. I was flat on my back, my heart pounding like a jack-hammer, my mouth working as I desperately tried to suck air into my oxygen-starved lungs, my face coated with her spend and feeling like someone had used 80 grade wet-or-dry on it, and bathed in sweat. Not a pretty sight I would have thought, and certainly not funny. Tonia didn't find it amusing either. She cast a dirty look at her friend and crawled up beside me.
"Are you all right?" she asked anxiously.
With Charles's help I managed to get my breath back. "I think so. Remind me of this if I get any more bright ideas."
Lola managed to overcome her giggles and knelt back on her heels. As I turned my head to look at her, she grabbed my hand and showered the palm with kisses.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just couldn't help it." She was practically in tears. "I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry. Please don't be angry."
I hate to see a woman grovel. "Lola," I said a bit sharply. "Stop that. I'm fine. Really. Stop fretting. More to the point, did you enjoy it?"
She looked at me carefully to see if I really meant what I'd said. Seemingly reassured, she bent and gently kissed my sticky, tender lips.
"It was immense. There was something about it… I can't explain. Thank you." Then her irrepressible sense of humour kicked in. "Can we do it again, sometime?" she said with a sly grin.
I groaned. "Maybe. In about ten years or so," I replied.
"Oh, no. Don't you two start again." Tonia said. "It's shower time. Come on."
"Yes, mother," Lola grinned.
We staggered through to the bathroom on unsteady legs where I received the royal treatment. In fact I didn't have to lift a finger the rest of the evening.