“Who the fuck is that?” Red-faced, I stumbled out into the bedroom. “I… I was….” Mrs. Meadows’s eyes were taking in the suppleness of my...youthful body. Evidently she liked what she saw and waved off Derek, who was about to throw me out the window… well, that’s what I thought at the time. Mrs. Meadows was distracted on seeing JoAnn, who having extracted Big Milton’s black cock from its hiding place, now had it poking into the side of her right cheek. “Don’t you dare make him cum!” she snarled. Half a dozen people were holding up either sheets of paper or iPads with names, but Carstairs was on none of them. And then I felt a hand on my shoulder, and a voice I knew from somewhere said:“Carstairs! How was your flight?”I turned round and saw Miles Bamford standing there, dressed in casual slacks and an alarmingly green polo-neck shirt. His arms were tanned, as was his face. Miles was on the board of directors at Aston Martin and the only time we had seen each other was here, in Doha. I’m. More

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