Bring 'em Back Johnny

Susan turned to me, and we kissed. This wasn't a chaste mother, sister or auntie kiss, it was a searing hot lovers kiss. Our tongues danced as our bodies pressed together, and our hands roamed freely. We finally broke apart, both of us panting.

"I know I can't be everything you want at the moment," Susan said, "but I don't want to leave you frustrated again. Is it OK if I just... um...?"

"Whatever you are comfortable with," I said, with far more grace than I felt. I really didn't need to be reminded that this was going nowhere, Susan was someone who I had really come to care about.

She tilted her head back, and I leaned down again to taste her soft lips. She closed her eyes as we kissed passionately, and then she started pulling at my shirt.

After that things really hotted up. We continued to try and kiss each other as we slowly tried to take each other's clothes off. Susan had trouble getting my shirt over my head, and I had trouble with her bra until I realised it was a front loader. The fun was trying not to let any of the stripping actions break the kiss, and we did pretty well with that. Although our hands roamed freely our lips stayed pretty much locked together until we were down to shoes and socks, and we realised this wasn't going to work. We broke apart again and finished disrobing, grinning a bit more than was really necessary.

"On the bed buster," Susan commanded, and I obeyed.

We explored each other's bodies for a while as we kissed, and then Susan scooted down between my legs and started stroking my cock, which was already half hard after all of the prior teasing we had done. She seemed to be fascinated by it as it continued to grow in her hands. After a while she lowered her head and licked it. She tried to suck on it but struggled to even get the head into her mouth. She ended up stroking and nibbling instead, and I had no complaints about that.

"Turn around," I said, and she looked up. I indicated that I wanted her to turn to the sixty-nine position. She looked reluctant, but I wasn't taking no for an answer and she eventually relented.

From the moment that my tongue touched her wet groove I knew what to do, and I just kept on doing it. Poor Susan was trying hard to get me off but was struggling to keep any sort of rhythm up as I licked her to a number of orgasms. Because of that I lasted for the best part of an hour before I finally warned her I was going to cum. She just wrapped her lips around my cock head, well as much as she could, and when I did cum, I shot three or four huge squirts into her mouth before the excess started spilling out. As we gasped for air, we looked at each other and the mess that we had made and then we started laughing.

"Shower," we both said, and we went and cleaned up.

We slept naked that night, and as we lay waiting for sleep to take us Susan spoke.

"Do you know what I like about you?" she asked.

"My tiny little cock?"

"Serious."

"No, what?"

"You always call me Susan."

"Uh, huh," I didn't get the importance.

"By this stage most guys I have gone out with would be calling me Susie, asking me to put my hair in plaits and then asking me to call them 'daddy'."

"Ergh."

"Exactly."

As I fell asleep, I realised that it wasn't just me who had been disadvantaged by what nature had given me, and I held Susan tight.

When I woke up the next morning, I was still holding Susan with my hand around one small, perky breast. I lay there for a while, thinking about her final comment last night, and I realised yet again how much she had been doing for me. I was thinking about the meeting we had with Ricky, and his suggestion that we could do a 'Lolita' film. That must have really stung her, but she had not reacted as she kept going with my best interests as her first priority. She was quite amazing.

I eventually slipped out of bed as she slept, and I went and started breakfast and coffee. About twenty minutes later she came into the kitchen.

"What the hell did you do to me last night?" she asked, "I have never cum like that before." I smiled.

"Nothing more than you deserve," I said, and I gave her a kiss.

It was a sad morning as we went through my house packing up in preparation to leave. I tossed up which car to take back to the city, and decided on the Mercedes, as it was a business trip. The Lexus was nice, but was more of an everyday car, and the Monaro was no good because it was a manual, and I didn't think I would be able to drive that for a while. Susan and I swapped numbers, and although we left together and I followed her most of the way, we knew that we were going to separate places. It was a sad thought, and I was a little concerned that I was going to be on my own, if only for one night. I hadn't been totally alone for a night since the accident.

Sam's instructions were bang on and the GPS in the Merc made sure I got through the city OK. I used my entry tag to get into the car park and parked in my car park. I knew it was mine, it had my name on it. The same entry tag got me into the lift and got the lift to the top floor. A quarter of the top floor was my apartment and there were three smaller apartments for important visitors there and also a large meeting room. I was the only occupant that night and I tagged in and had a look around. The apartment was sumptuous to say the least, but it was also very sterile. I felt like I had not had a lot to do with the design or decoration, and it was just somebody's concept of what a luxury apartment should be. It had a huge lounge, with a commanding view through large windows across the city, a small but serviceable kitchenette, a large master bedroom with an en suite, a small second bedroom and a small but well-equipped office that did not seem to be frequently used. There was also a small gym room, a bathroom and laundry and that was pretty much it.

I found that I was suddenly at a loose end. I wandered around for a while, just exploring. Then I tried to watch some television, but I just couldn't concentrate on any of the drivel they were showing. I toyed with the idea of making some dinner, and then I toyed with the idea of going out and buying some, but I just couldn't make up my mind. I ended up just having some biscuits and a whisky. After watching an average movie on the box, I decided it was time for bed, but I lay there awake for a long time. It was too quiet. During that last part of my day I did something I should have done much earlier and started searching through the messages and emails on my phone, but too many of them were meaningless to me. At least the task helped me to finally drop off to sleep.

In the morning I woke up feeling unrefreshed, and I had cereal for breakfast before showering and dressing for the day. I went down a floor to my office and was there just after seven, well before anyone else arrived. About forty minutes later there was a knock on the door and Sam came in. I knew it was Sam because he told me, but I had an inkling beforehand too.

Apparently, Sam and I had been friends in high school, and then we went to university together. He told me that he was the only long-time friend of mine within the company, and he ran through all of the other senior managers. Pretty much everything he said emerged through the fog of my memories as he spoke. Our chat covered various things outside the business as well. Unlike most to the staff, he knew about Renounce / Renew and explained to me that I had set it up after my mother died a couple of years earlier. Apparently, her divorce from my cheating father had been very acrimonious and she had spiraled into an unhappy life of substance dependence. I had not spoken to my father since he and I had a bitter argument shortly after my parents' breakup, but I was still unable to do anything to help my severely depressed mother. I had no siblings, and no other living relatives that Sam knew about. If Sam knew anything about my 'Johnny' persona he did not say so, and I didn't ask.

We chatted in my office for over an hour before Sam said he would call the senior people together for a meeting.

We met in the board room, and it was great to be able to see the team that had run the business for the last nine months from an outside point of view. They had been rotating the chair position in the senior management meetings while I was away and had got it all working really well. When I asked what I could contribute under the current business system, they really couldn't come up with much. I could appear at functions as the face of the company and provide the casting vote if they had any split decisions, but apart from that I was pretty much redundant. They didn't put it that way of course, but that was the message. We smiled as I said goodbye, and I knew that the smart move would be to just leave this business as it was. As the owner I would still get an income from it, and if I tried to interfere now, I would run the risk of losing one or more of the people who were currently making it successful.

I headed from the office to the hospital where I had set up a meeting with their accounts and admissions people for two o'clock. I had insisted that Susan should be involved, and just seeing her as I walked in was the highlight of my day. It took just over two hours to sort out the mess. Because I was admitted as the result of an accident I was processed and treated within the supposedly free public system, but the accounts people seemed to think that I should still owe them a sizeable amount of money, especially when they were told that I had private health cover. They seemed to think that because I hadn't been officially discharged from the hospital, they could change the classification of things retrospectively and they wanted my health insurance details so they could get some reimbursement for my treatment. After a fruitless and long-winded discussion, I told them bluntly that if they thought my insurance or I owed them anything then they should make up a clearly itemised bill, and I would run that past my legal team. I also told them that the legitimacy of their claim was going to have a direct effect on the donation I was considering making to the hospital as a thank you for the treatment I had received. I made sure they were aware that I believed Susan had helped me out immensely and I would not act favourably to any repercussions on her for providing that help. I left that meeting hoping that I made my point well enough, and I went and discharged myself on the way out, although I did make a once a week appointment with Anton as an outpatient. I was unable to get Monday or Friday, so I made that for ten in the morning on Tuesdays.

I messaged Susan to ask if we could get together that evening, and she said she would visit me on the way home from work, and she would bring something for dinner. That made me smile again.

While I was waiting for Susan I looked again at my phone, but this time I explored the various applications on it, and I saw what seemed to be the solution to another mystery. There was a tracking app on it, and when I fired it up, I saw that I had trackers in all of my cars. Surprisingly there were six tags and, as expected, the ones identified as Holden, Lexus and Bugatti (So that's what that old racing car was! Hey I knew that...) were all sitting together at home while the Mercedes was here at the office. The missing Ford was showing as being in a northern suburb's location, and there was another tag, labelled Bentley that was at an eastern suburbs address. I had no idea of what that was about, but after our visit to the police I knew that whatever it was, it wasn't registered.

Then Susan arrived, carrying a bag of Chinese take away, and I moved on to thinking about other things, like how much happier I was when she was around.

Sadly, Susan didn't want to stay the night because she had to work the next day. We ate our dinner, I showed her around the apartment and then we sat down over a coffee and discussed the things that had been revealed over the course of the day. She was interested in the trackers, and when I said I was going to check out the addresses after my physio the next day she suggested caution, and I agreed. If I didn't have all of my facts and documents together the cars could disappear before I got them. Sadly, that meant that I would most likely have to go back to my house either Tuesday afternoon or Wednesday morning to get that sorted out. I favoured Tuesday afternoon because that would mean I could have a good chat with Dana on Wednesday morning and hopefully get some help from her. I wasn't planning on visiting Renounce / Renew until Celine got back from her trip, but from what Breea had said I had never been an active part of running that organisation. I was pretty much a source of funding and a figurehead who they trotted out for fundraisers. Cynically I thought that should differentiate us from other charities. We had a wealthy patron who was encouraging other people to give their money to a cause, but if asked I could honestly say I was contributing substantial amounts of my own money to it too.

Susan and I had a short make out session on the couch, but all too soon she had to go, and I was alone once more. I decided to leave the outstanding emails until I was on my computer and started going though voicemail messages. Unfortunately, the mailbox had filled up after about six weeks, so I was listening to, and then deleting, all of the messages from people who I had caught up with already. I had to make some room. I needed it because I had already answered a couple of very strange calls from private numbers, so I was letting all unknown callers go to message.

After my morning torture session with Anton I packed up and headed north to where my Ford was showing on the tracker program. It was in an affluent area, and as I got closer, I could see there was a large estate with about a dozen townhouses on it. There was also an unmanned gatehouse, and a barrier with a swipe reader and an intercom. I pulled up and took a photo of the sign, which was interesting. It read 'Earthsafe Estate' and in smaller lettering 'Part of the Giffon Group'. I drove away, confident that this was the right place.

The second tracker signal took me to an industrial area, and I ended up outside an upmarket looking restoration shop called Freyers Restorations. That made sense, I must have been getting them to work on my car. Once again, I took a photo of the signs, and then I headed out to Junifield. Thinking ahead I got milk and a few other necessities at a service station when I was filling up.

As I painfully got out of the low-slung Mercedes, opened the gate, got back into the car, drove forward, got out of the car again, closed and locked the gate and struggled back into the car once more, I wondered if maybe I could automate that somehow. My home was pretty much the same as I had left it on Sunday, except that it was cleaner and the bed had fresh linen on it. It had been a long day, so I sipped a whisky, relaxed in the spa bath and then hit the sack. Once again it felt empty without Susan's cheerful presence.

I got into my research early in the morning, and I quickly found a file on my Bentley. It was a 1931 four and half litre 'Blower Bentley', meaning supercharged. I had a ludicrously expensive quote from Freyers Restorations to restore the original coachwork and finish it to concourse condition. I also had a phone number for Norman Freyers. I put that aside for later.

Earthsafe Estate was quite a bit harder to track down, mostly because I had it filed under Harrison Solent Real Estate. When I got into the details, I found out the Earthsafe was one of my earlier projects, but towards the end of construction the developers' business had folded, and they had owed us a significant amount of money. To not put a strain on the finances of my own fledgling organisation I invested heavily personally and bought out the developer at a very low rate. (Hey, for him a little bit of something was a lot better than a whole lot of nothing, I could have just sent him to the wall). Harrison Solent was the agent I was using to rent out the townhouses, well all except number twelve which I had retained for private use. Where things got confusing was that after my accident, I had received EFT payments for the rent twice, and then nothing. This was looking very suspicious. The legal guy I had used in this, and looking through my paperwork, in a lot of other situations was someone called Nathan Jones-Setting. I had seen his number in my phone.

Dana finally arrived, and she insisted on doing the dusting and vacuuming before we sat down to discuss what had been happening in my absence.

"Yes," she said, "I remember that real estate agent thing, there were a couple of payments and then nothing, but I never knew what for." It turns out that she had everything she needed to get onto my computer, but the details for that deal were in a locked filing cabinet that she didn't have the key for.

"Please don't be nervous," I said looking at her concerned expression, "you did far more than would be expected and I am purely trying to get my own head around my finances so I can move ahead." She nodded.

"Now," I said, "you said you really need the money from this job, what is your situation?"

"I don't want to bother you..."

"You won't," I said quickly, "please tell me."

Dana's husband Alf had suffered a stroke about two years earlier and was still not able to move his left arm or leg very much at all. They had a dairy farm in the lowlands at the foot of the mountains, and they were struggling now to maintain a herd of one hundred head because it was very hard to get good farm hands without paying so much that there was no value in it. Dana and one hand were doing everything themselves.

Dana was too proud to let me give her money to help, but I did insist on a ten percent pay increase, and I paid for her time on the weekend when she came up and clued me in on what had been happening. I thought she appreciated that. I still wanted to do more for her, but I had no idea what that might be.

Most of the rest of the discussion was just covering how she had handled my business in my absence. She had just looked after the bills that arrived in my post office box in town (which she checked on the way up to my place every time she worked). She had no real way to confirm their validity but made the correct call to just go ahead and pay them anyway.

Dana headed off, and I rang Norman Freyers. It was an interesting call.

"Freyers Restorations, this is Norman."

"Oh, hi Norman, this is Russell Giffon."

"G'day Russell, what can I do for you? You aren't chasing up your car, are you?"

"Well actually..."

"I did say I'd give you a call when it was done." He sounded reproachful.

"Well, it has been the best part of a year since we last talked," I replied, "and I just wanted to make sure nothing unexpected has come up."

"Yeah. Fair enough. Do you want to come in and see how she is going? It's a bloody work of art, even if I do say so myself."

"I'd love to Norman. Would next Tuesday afternoon suit you?"

"Yeah, that'd be good."

"Just to warn you I had a bad accident some time back and I have some serious burn scars on my face."

"Shit, that's no good, are you OK now?"

"Pretty much."

"Good, see you next Tuesday." He hung up

For the rest of the afternoon I got on my computer and started clearing out all of my emails. I found my home office was a very pleasant place to work in because I could see the amazing view through the window as soon as I looked away from the big twin monitors. At first I found it quite distracting, but that only lasted for a while. Beautiful as it was the view stayed pretty much the same, except for birds and weather variations. The house was certainly a much nicer place to be than the city apartment, but I knew it was going to be much lonelier too, due to its isolation.