Greed

The really shitty news is that it seems that he's up to his old tricks and is currently fucking some wealthy widow who is very, very loaded."

I stared at the floor in disbelief as one by one, all the pieces of the jigsaw began to fall into place. When the picture was complete I looked at Margie. "How am I going to get out of this? Please tell me."

"What we are going to do first is to speak to Therese."

"What?"

"We are going to speak to Therese and we are going to have a girl session with her and a couple of the girls here, and then we are going to fry Martin Simpson's arse."

"I don't know, I suspect that Therese is not kindly disposed towards me."

"Don't you worry about Therese, you forget that I've worked here a long time, long enough to have been a friend of hers. I've already spoken with her and she has agreed to help."

Martin rang just before I left the office to tell me that he had to attend some function or other out of town and would be staying over, and that he would see me in the morning. I hope that I sounded suitably convincing when I accepted his story, but now at least us girls could meet at my apartment, and I still looked on it as mine, not ours, without being disturbed.

I actually like Therese, she has class. I don't think that I could be in the presence of the woman that stole my husband and treat her as a friend as she has treated me, but then we do have a common interest.

Margie took charge of the meeting, explaining what was happening and introducing Therese and I to Jan, the woman with all the ammunition.

"Martin thinks that he has been very clever in covering his tracks, but once you scratch the surface there is a paper trail that will convict him of fraud. He has been borrowing heavily, using as collateral your money Helena. Now I have looked into this and I know that you've never signed any documents allowing him access to your money. The only way that he can do that is to file for divorce and claim half of it as a property settlement. Unless of course there is a pre-nuptial agreement that we should know about?"

"No. I guess he was so confident of his power over me that he didn't think it necessary."

"Great, so he has no access to your money unless he files for divorce so we have to act fast before that happens. Now what we are going to do is to tighten the screws. We are going to cut off his access to funds. He will not be able to use company monies and he'll have to come to you, and what are you going to do? You are going to tell him to get lost."

"And in the mean time," Therese said, "I'll talk to the woman that he's with at the moment, letting her know exactly what's going down, as well as putting the word about to all of my friends so that no-one but no-one will have anything to do with him."

After an hour of plotting we opened a bottle of champagne to celebrate our conspiracy.

Martin arrived home the next morning after I'd left for the office. He cleaned up any trace of his night of debauchery before coming in to work. I walked into his office, "How did it go last night?"

"Very successfully actually."

"Are you going to tell me about it or do I have to drag it out?"

He glared at me. "If you must know, I have signed up an account that will net this company a lot of money."

"I mean to ask you about that, it seems that this company isn't doing as well as you led me to believe."

"What! Have you been checking up on me?"

"I thought that I should take some interest in it, after all you've made no attempt to repay the money that you promised after our Paris trip, so I was a little concerned as to why, that's all."

"I'll have the money for you tomorrow night." That was it, his look told me that the discussion was well and truly at an end.

He spent the rest of the day and all of the next day on the phone and the longer he talked the more agitated he got until late in the afternoon he stormed from his office. I had never seen him so angry and felt sorry for who ever he was going to see.

As it happened, the next person that he saw was prepared for him. She sat in her lounge chair and the sofas were taken up by several suits. The only seat available to Martin was a kitchen chair brought into the room by a maid.

"Mister Simpson, I have here a warrant for your arrest."

"On what charge?" He looked at his 'lady friend'. She said nothing.

"Fraud will do for starters. It appears that you have been a very naughty boy. You have been encouraging people to invest their money with you, and promising a higher than normal return on their investment. Up until now you have been able to meet those payments from monies received but that has dried up hasn't it. You haven't actually asked your wife to help you but I've been reliably informed that such a request will be denied, and this lady here has informed us that the check that she gave you yesterday has been stopped. It would appear to be the end of the road for you. After we've gone over your company books, we didn't even have to subpoena them, the company approached us, and chased up money that you've been sending off shore I'm sure that we'll have more than enough to put you away for a very long time."

Martin had had as much of this as he could stand. He jumped to his feet and headed for the door. One of the suits, who stood at least six inches taller than him and was a good thirty pounds heavier, displayed an agility that Martin couldn't comprehend, was blocking the way out for him.

Martin grabbed a large and heavy standard lamp and swung it at the man. He missed by several inches as the man ducked under the swinging lamp and crash tackled him to the ground.

"I think we can add resisting arrest to the charge sheet." Said the leader. His rights having been read to him, Martin was escorted from the room.

An interesting conversation followed between me, Therese and Courtney, the latest conquest, and the story was the same. Martin was a very good and considerate lover but beneath all of that there was a motive, greed. He only ever made love to a woman from whom he thought he could gain some sort of financial reward. He never made love for love, but he was very good at disguising that fact. It only became obvious later, much later, when he moved on, the he was manipulating women for his own greedy ends.

In an effort to plea bargain his way out of jail Martin pleaded guilty to all of the fraud charges as long as the resisting arrest charge was dropped. He nearly choked when the Judge sentenced him to five to ten years.

After the trial I decided to get right away from all of this mayhem and took myself off to France on a backpacking holiday. My friends couldn't believe that I, Helena Manning, soft little Helena, was roughing it in France, but all I wanted to do was to get as far away from money as I could. I limited my funds to the point where from time to time I had to find work to afford to move on and it was on one of these jobs that I met the man of my dreams. Pierre was a French Canadian writer who was working on a book about his travels around France. We were working in the same café beside the canal at Toulouse and became at first good friends, then very good friends, moving from place to place, laughing at the stupidest things, eating and drinking the local produce, and loving it by the way, and generally having a good time in each other's company.

Then eventually, inevitably, there was sex. Martin was technique, Martin was style, and Martin was, as I had come to realize, cold and calculated. Pierre on the other hand, well let me put it this way, what he lacked in style and technique he more than made up for in the most important thing, love. Pierre's cock wasn't as big as Martin's but it was better in so many ways because of what was behind it, the man I love, and I'm not just writing this because he's standing behind me reading my words, this is the real thing. Pierre isn't about what he can gain from our relationship but what he can bring to it.

I'd better go because he's fondling my breasts and I know what is going to happen next, with any luck we'll make it to the bed before his cock is inside me. "God Pierre, can't you at least wait until I'm out of the chair."