Ferdinando

It took her several minutes to drain me completely. She took a deep breath and gave me an embarrassed smile.

"That was magical Ellie! Fantastic. Do you do that for Brandon?"

She looked shocked, "No. Never!"

"Well, starting on your honeymoon, I want you to do that at least twice a week for him, and tell him you love it!"

"It's nasty, but it's hot. Will Brandon think I'm a slut?"

"As long as he knows you are his slut it will be okay. Tell him that is something you only do for your husband, your faithful husband. And he will never forget how good that is for him, and how good you are for him."

She looked a little happier.

"Does Brandon eat your pussy?"

She laughed. "Yes, but kind of tentatively. Not like you did."

"Tell him what you want. Your pussy is wonderful. Tell him he should get busy and get it all over him, and if he doesn't do it, maybe you will find someone who can."

She looked scandalized, but thoughtful.

"I have never been fucked like that, Nando. Brandon treats me like I am too delicate."

"Tell him to just let himself go, to use you like a fuck doll!"

She giggled. "Wow, you are sure opening my eyes to some things, Nando!"

I smiled. "Let's rest and have a little snack, then I'm going to open some other things, too."

She looked suspicious, but then smiled. We raided the fridge and drank some sparkling water and ate grapes and cheese. Ellie seemed relax and began to talk more about what had just happened. I kissed her between bites.

"Let's go take a shower together, Ellie."

She looked surprised, but then pleased. I kissed and washed her tenderly, and then soaped and rinsed her ass twice. "Why are you doing that, Nando?"

"I think you know."

She looked shocked again. "Oh!"

Once we dried each other off, I took her back into the bedroom and put her on all fours up on the bed. I slipped in behind her and began kissing her butt cheeks. "I have a thing for butts, Ellie, and your tight little ass is fantastic!"

She drew in a big breath, then let it out slowly as my tongue spiraled in towards her sweet little buttonhole. When I got right to it, her whole body tensed up, like a nurse was about to give her a shot. She made a funny sound when I plunged into it the first time, and then she held very still for a minute or so. I didn't mind, I was really enjoying myself. Soon she relaxed, at first a bit and then a little more, until her hips began to move in a small circle.

I slipped a finger into her wonderfully wet pussy and began to synchronize the motions of my fingers and tongue. Soon she was moving in time with me and making little noises. Soon I had two fingers in her, and my tongue fully extended. She made a surprising noise and began to breathe loudly through her nose. When she had her first orgasm, her legs fluttered like wings, and her wet flow increased. I kept two fingers in her front and slipped one into her butt, and she made a little growl.

I switched back to thrusting my tongue into her ass as far as I could, then I stopped and kissed her butt cheeks instead. She tried to maneuver her ass around to get my tongue back inside. But I had other plans. I pulled her up on all fours and slipped my cock into her frothy pussy. She hummed and got into the rhythm with me. When she was just getting enthusiastic about it, I slipped out and lined myself up for rear entry.

"Oh God! she said. Soon she had me saying it. She was no goody two shoes anymore. A voracious man eater in the making, and she would never be satisfied with Brandon's tentative efforts anymore. I only slept about three hours at the condo, and only then because I fell asleep while she was astride me and working it hard. Demanding didn't begin to describe it.

Ellie was so wonderful I thought about trying to keep her for myself. If Brandi was leaving town, and Bonnie wouldn't call me back, I could be very happy with Ellie. But that wouldn't be fair to her or Brandon. Just as we left the condo, I reminded Ellie that she was wonderful, and that any man would want her, so Brandon needed to take care of her. "Tell him if he doesn't get nasty enough for you, you might have to find someone who will, or have a bull on the side."

The look on her face told me that Brandon was going to have his work cut of out for him, but it should be a labor of love. For a wedding gift, I will give him some introductory sessions with my personal trainer. He is going to need to work on his game.

* * * * *

Saturday night I rested and recuperated. Ellie Reyes had been able to take all I could give; she almost wore me out. I hope Brandon would survive the honeymoon. Sunday, I rode my bike for four hours, and most of the time I thought about Bonnie Bedard. The case was over, or at least the public story was, but I was not going to call her. She would have to call me.

Monday morning my workout was better, I think the bike rides were helping my endurance. Biff told me about the new hot spot to pick up women now that Mel's Place was closed, but I wasn't all that interested. When I went back to my apartment, I saw Bonnie getting into her car. I waved, but she pretended not to see me, and drove away. Damn.

When I got to the office about 7:45 there were three guys in suits in the conference room with Wallace Watkins. They had a big stack of those folding Banker's Boxes that tie up with the brown strings sitting on the table, and they were all yelling at Wallace. When he saw me, he looked relieved, and gestured for me to come inside.

"Gentlemen, this is Nando Cannon, one of my trusted associates. He is going to be working full time on your project for the rest of the month, along with a few other people from the office. Nando, this is Benzion Berkowitz, from the law firm of Butcher, Donelson, Borman, Cadwallader & Berkowitz. I'll let him explain what they need us to do."

Benzion Berkowitz was one of the most Jewish names I had ever heard, competing with a tennis pro I saw play on You Tube once named Shlomo Glickstein. He certainly looked the part of the polished high-end lawyer, complete with double breasted suit, but no yarmulka. He was about 45 years old and projected the kind of quiet competence I would like to display someday.

"Just call me Ben. We represent the estate of the very recently deceased Wilsie McQuillan, and we need your help to get her affairs in order." He had absolutely no accent, and perfect diction. Harvard law was my guess.

I tried not to startle. "Wendy's mother?"

Ben smiled. "Wallace said you were familiar with the family. It is a complicated estate, with a multitude of holdings, including many tax advantaged family limited partnerships, and an array of trusts, most of which need to be terminated due to Mrs. McQuillan's demise. There is also a need for complete confidentiality and discretion. The family wants no publicity and to limit the disclosure of information to the public and especially to the press as much as humanly possible. Wallace assures me that you can maintain the family's privacy and do a thorough job of marshalling and accounting for all the assets."

Wallace interjected. "Nando has recently worked on a project involving more than a dozen trusts and interrelated limited partnerships and LLCs and helped prepare all the federal and state tax documents. I am sure he can handle this project, in consultation with me, of course. Nando, this is a very complex estate, and one major objective is to avoid probate to the extent possible. But there are multiple..." he hesitated, "...complications, shall we say."

Ben snorted, a funny expression on his face. I wonder how much he really knew about Wendy McQuillan. Was this the law firm that had bailed her out of all her scrapes, or just the estate and tax guys? I gestured towards the Banker's Boxes. "Are those the accounting records of everything?"

Ben laughed. "You wish! That is a single written copy of the will, and all the trust documents, with an appendix that is an incomplete and out of date listing of assets and liabilities of the estate, and another appendix listing dozens of conflicting specific bequests and still another listing of some vague verbal promises the woman made in her dotage. The family has real estate and businesses scattered all over Florida, with records in both written and electronic form, plus a huge cache of stuff on the estate that no one has looked at in years. Your first task is to collect, collate, compare, and summarize them all into a working document we can use to draw up all the filings to terminate the partnerships and distribute the assets to the heirs, some of whom may be difficult to work with. The estate is large enough to draw legions of scammers and opportunistic lawsuits, so we must be prepared."

I was a little overwhelmed. It was not possible to finish all this before I had to start classes again.

Wallace seemed to anticipate my concerns. "You will be working on this for several months, including afternoons and evenings during the fall, so we will schedule around this project, which is your first priority. I want you to finish that audit report you are working on this morning, so you can go to a working lunch with your counterpart, a junior partner attorney at BDBC&B, who like you will be devoted to this project until it is done."

Ben Berkowitz handed me a three-ring binder about 2 inches thick. "That is the executive summary of the will and an outline of the project phases to be completed. Although the will was crafted to minimize disclosure and delays in settling the estate, it was written years ago, and has not been updated to reflect recent tax law changes, and some of the issues may get complicated. We are all depending on you, Nando!"

Thanks a lot. I went back to my desk and worked on finishing off the memo summarizing an audit we did on a Florida restaurant chain. Almost a million dollars had been embezzled by a regional manager, but it was small potatoes compared to the McQuillan holdings.

I sent the report off for Wallace's final review about 11 and then took a brisk walk in the hallway to restore my circulation. As I walked by Wallace's office, he yelled at me to come inside.

"You need to work on building a relationship with this law firm, Nando. It could mean a lot more business for us. The lawyer you will be working with is the rising star there, a Yale law grad with a stellar resume and a bright future. If we do a good job on this project, we should be in for many more collaborations with them."

The receptionist summoned me to the front a few minutes after noon, and she sounded impressed. "Payton Preston, from Butcher, Donelson, Borman, Cadwallader & Berkowitz, is here to see you."

"I'll be right out."

Payton Preston, huh? I formed a mental picture of him on the way down the hall. Middle name was probably "Perfect" as in perfect SAT, perfect undergrad GPA, perfect LSAT, and law review. Glasses, squash player, chess club, and started at the firm seven years ago at an annual salary twice the value of my parents' house back in Kansas. Perfectly suited to billing a hundred hours a month as an associate, and just made partner. Just upgraded his entire wardrobe from Brooks Brothers to Zegna, but no time to date. Country club membership and Tesla lease paid for by the law firm. I would just have to get along with this prick anyway. I put on my best sales brochure smile and rounded the corner into the reception area.

When I saw her, my heart just about stopped! Payton Perfect Preston was perfect all right. Perfect face, perfect hair, perfect breasts, perfect skin. I tried not to leer. I managed to keep my perfect brochure smile on my face. "Nando Cannon. Where would you like to have lunch?"

She looked at me funny. Maybe she was used to getting more of a dramatic reaction from men, but I was too stunned to even let my face change. She had a perfect smile, too. "I took the liberty of making lunch reservations at the Governor's Club downtown."

Wow. I didn't even know there was such a club. At least I had washed and vacuumed my crappy Camry recently.

"My car is in the garage."

"Oh, I have a car service outside. I can bill the client more that way."

At least she was honest about it. She turned and we went out to the elevator. Once we were inside, her perfume surrounded me, and enchanted me. She was tall, and muscular, like she could be an MMA fighter, but somehow light on her feet and pleasant. If Ellie's Reyes skin was cinnamon, hers was copper, but her hair was black as coal. Her eyes were a surprisingly light brown. Native American plus something else, I imagined. The overall effect was stunning. I tried to make conversation to prove I wasn't tongue tied.

"Have you worked with the McQuillan family for very long?"

She sighed, with a funny expression. "This is my first legal business with them. We are supposed to meet the primary heir Monday at the estate in Palm Beach. Have you worked with them before?"

"Our firm handles some of their many businesses, but I haven't done any work on their accounts before. I have met Wendy McQuillan socially, but not in a business context." She raised her eyes at that.

The driver held the car door open for her, and I slid into the other side. There was a privacy partition between our seats and the driver.

"What is Wendy like?"

"She is... interesting."

Payton smiled. "We are going to be working together for months Nando. So, let's get something straight. We can be completely forthcoming with each other, and whatever you tell me stays in confidence. Our attorney client privilege applies to you as a vendor, so you can tell me anything, but you cannot tell anyone else anything unless it is part of our report the client or a required tax filing. Okay?"

I swallowed hard. "I will tell you everything that is relevant to our work, but not anything sensitive or personal that the client would want kept in confidence."

"Understood. So, you won't confirm or deny all the wild and juicy things I have heard about Wendy?"

I just smiled. "I'll keep your secrets, too, Payton, if that helps."

Again, that funny expression, and a very tight little smile. It made me curious. When we got to the club, she had reserved a small private dining room, where a waiter served us a nice lunch. Payton didn't say a word until he left the room and closed the sliding door.

"Little pitchers have big ears, Nando. We are working with sensitive data, so extreme caution is advised. On Monday, we will go to Palm Beach and begin a search of the records there. Wendy closed her businesses and apartments here and lives on the old family estate now. Her mother apparently became disturbed and quite a hoarder in her later years, so we will have to go through all that stuff and find what is relevant and shred everything that is not. I got the job because I am the most junior partner but have the trust and authority from the other partners to make those judgments. Wallace Watkins said you were in the equivalent position in his firm, yet my information on you says you haven't even graduated or passed your CPA yet. How can that be?

"I do well in school, and work well with others, and people tend to trust me. I guess I should ask for a bump in my salary, though."

"You should. We will have an extensive review of our goals and plans on the way down to Palm Beach Monday. But you and I should get acquainted for now. Where did you grow up, Nando?"

I went through my basic info. She was from South Dakota, went to the public schools, and then Brown and Yale on scholarships. We had a nice conversation. She only caught me staring at her twice. I couldn't tell if she liked it or not.

When I got back to the office, Lucy Lowry dropped by my desk. "I got some receptionist to receptionist to Lucy juicy for you Nando!"

I looked a question at her. "The receptionist at BDBC&B is our receptionist's cousin, and she calls them Butcher, Baker, & Candlestick Maker for short. It's like it works here, all the old guys are semi-retired, and Berkowitz is the shot caller. But if you want all the best scoop you gotta buy me a drink after work!"

"Okay, but I can't leave until about 6."

"No problem. I have to proofread and then make six duplicate copies of your damn audit report and get them out before I leave."

"Need any help?"

"Only if it needs an extensive rewrite. Your stuff usually doesn't. I'll come get you when it's finished."

I gave Lucy a look sufficient to make her swing her hips attractively as she walked away. Our little unspoken game. She looks damn good for pushing 50.

I stayed at my desk and did a little research on one Payton Preston. I thought that would be a pretty rare name, but there were quite a few, and a lot of people named Preston Payton, too. But only one I could find was from North Dakota, and her middle name was Shortridge, which was rare. Apparently the Shortridges were an old political family in South Dakota, and Payton's first name was slightly modified from a Sioux tribal name that meant 'fire'. She was certainly hot. Where the Preston part came from was not mentioned. She was the subject of several articles as far back as when she was a very young winner of a state spelling bee up to an including her law review writeup from Yale.

When the Fedex guy came to pick up Lucy's outgoing package of audit reports, he brough one of those small Fedex envelopes for me, from Ellie Reyes. It was mostly bubble wrap, with one little USB drive, and a handwritten and perfumed note that said "Not suitable for the office! Be sure to watch all the way to the end." Oh my. Well, I have a plan for the evening after I buy Lucy that drink.

Lucy was ready a little before six, and we went once again to her favorite dive bar downtown. The bartender brought her a double vodka right away, and even remembered to bring me a Perrier. I must have looked impressed. Lucy said, "Dive bar on the outside, classy joint on the inside. That's why I like this place. Everybody knows everybody and can connect you with almost anybody. Way less than six degrees of separation. And decent bar food." I took the hint and we both ordered sandwiches. They were damn good, and not overpriced.

She took another long pull on her second vodka. I waited her out. Finally, she said, "Your new friend Payton is the talk of her law office. Fast track to partner, looks like a supermodel, and a radical feminist. Rumor is she goes both ways when she has time to date, but she does top only."

"Do you have sources besides the receptionist?"

"Yup. One of the paralegals drinks here too. Their firm gets the big old money cases, and does everything but criminal law, and they have hired gun shark in the water outside lawyers to do that as required. They specialize in tax shelters and big and disputed estates like they expect the McQuillan thing to be, and Payton is the latest and greatest in modern aggressive tactics. She makes Nico Machiavelli look like Mr. Rogers. They use private eyes, hackers, drones, expensive jury consultants, whatever it takes, and they have developed tight relationships with almost every police department and judge in Florida. "

No wonder Wallace wants our firm to become their hired gun accountant. I wonder what firm they used before, and why we have a chance now. Lucy had two more drinks and regaled me with the story of her latest boyfriend. She made the point that he was about my age and could fuck like a snake, but he was not the sharpest knife in the drawer. "He probably thinks I am too cerebral!" She laughed.

By the time I got back to my place it was after 9. I was sleepy, and I had to meet my trainer at 5 the next morning, but I was curious about the thumb drive. Ever the cautious accountant, I put it into my crappy old and air-gapped laptop to make sure it was safe. No malware, just two big video files.