A Date with The Devil Pt. 03

Then Nina had gone off in overdrive and, prone to the same sort of uncontrollable urges, Heather had let her, leaning back on her pile of pillows and enjoying herself in every conceivable way.

Sights, sounds, smells, sensations . . . blonde hair flying wildly, boobs bouncing; increasingly regular double squelch, squelch, squelches; lady juice hanging sweetly heavy in the air; those glorious bumps moving in and out of her, faster and faster and fastest . . .

And then Nina tried a twist too far and the cucumber snapped clean in half.

'I've been sold a dud,' she complained. 'It had a stress fracture in it.'

Cue derision from Heather.

'Stress fracture,' she echoed, 'it's not a flipping shin bone.'

When they'd stopped laughing she tossed her half aside, condom and all. 'Come here, Nina,' she said seductively. 'I've something to show you.'

'So have I,' said Nina, tossing away her half cucumber and reaching for her bag. 'I bought bananas as well . . .'

*****

Back in the real world Nina woke Heather somewhere south of Peterborough.

'You were making noises,' she explained.

'Oh no,' said Heather, yawning and then grinning, 'please don't say I embarrassed you.'

'Every breath you take embarrasses me,' said Nina, her smile disproving her words.

'I was dreaming about the other night,' Heather said, unabashed. 'Know what I mean?'

'Hev . . .'

'It was one of the sweetest dreams . . . Better than eating a banana split with strawberry sauce.'

'Hev . . .'

'And that strawberry sauce is to die for . . .'

'Hev . . .'

Heather grinned some more and kissed the blonde's nose.

Nina rolled her eyes yet again. 'Pull yourself together, girl,' she said, 'and make do with your dreams. We'll be there soon.'

'Prematurely, said Heather.

'Shut up,' Nina replied, beaming wider than ever.

*****

Suitably refreshed Heather and Nina arrived at Mary Rose's office at five past two. It was partly open-plan with a reception area that shared a lot of space with a crowd of legal secretary-types.

'I'm here to see Mary Rose Archer,' Heather announced. 'It's rather urgent.'

The receptionist was wearing glasses with thick black frames and the brightest, glossiest red lipstick.

'I'm sorry,' she said after the briefest glance at her PC, 'but have you made an appointment?'

The woman was maybe thirty and unquestionably unhelpful. Heather felt instant aversion.

'Appointments are a must,' the receptionist said, as though reading from a script. 'Surely you must be aware of that?'

'Ditch the red tape and let me see Mare,' Heather said, knowing she was overreacting, unable to stop herself.

The receptionist positively glowed in triumph.

'Sorry,' she said with fervent insincerity, 'can't be done.'

That grated on Heather. She was "back office" but infinitely better equipped to front up than this cow.

Perhaps a straight karate strike would sort her out.

Or perhaps that would be playing into the so-and-so's hands.

'Sorry,' Heather said politely (as politely as she could, anyway), 'I do not have an appointment. But Mary Rose will see me, sure as eggs are eggs. Tell her it's Heather from school.'

That didn't impress the woman behind the desk in the least. Seeing her disapproving face it dawned on Heather that she wasn't necessarily dressed for the part. Abandoning her trendy day-to-day work outfits she was in tight denims and a white T. Nina, who was in one of her impeccably fine day-to-day outfits, was more in keeping with this place.

Heather was very much a people person. Normally she could get on with anybody. But now, stressed about Mare, annoyed with her own choice of clobber and the jumped up clerk's snotty attitude, it was only too easy to lose it.

'Tell her it's me,' she snapped, 'and tell her she's got two minutes to get out here and face the music.'

Nina was back in eye-rolling mode. The half dozen or so legal secretaries were all pretending nothing was happening whilst listening in eagerly, the few guys even more agog than the majority of girls.

The receptionist wasn't for budging. 'I'm sorry,' she sneered, 'but you need to make an appointment.'

'I'm sorry,' Heather countered, 'but I'm not going to be stonewalled by the likes of you. I need to see Mare as a matter of urgency. And as I said, she'll see me when she knows who it is. Do us all favour and tell her I'm here.'

'I'm afraid you're right out of luck,' said the receptionist, smiling insincerely, 'you might be here but Ms Archer isn't.'

'What?'

'Old school chum or what, she isn't here.'

Rats. Heather hadn't expected that.

'We'll wait,' she said, backing down gracefully, she hoped.

'Not in here you won't.'

'Don't be like that. We'll sit on that visitors' couch and keep ourselves to ourselves. We won't be any trouble and we won't be there long. Surely she'll be back any minute.'

'Surely she won't.' Now the receptionist's smile was even more than triumphant. Olympic champions had rarely looked less pleased with themselves.

'Ms Archer finished for the weekend half an hour ago, 'the sexy witch purred. 'She won't be back until Monday.'

Turning back to her PC she tapped a few keys. 'I can make you an appointment,' she said, 'but today is right out. And Monday's already booked up. How does three o'clock Tuesday work for you?'