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‘God, it feels almost like I’m coming again!’ I felt warmth against my thigh. She backed away and pointed to a little puddle on the linoleum. ‘Look at that. I’m so excited, I just wet my pants! Was that your first golden shower, Jim?’ I saw a glistening drop in her bush, and my leg now felt wet. By God, she had pissed on me! Carol went to the bar and handed me a paper towel so I could wipe myself off, poured herself a stiff drink and leaned back against the sink, staring at me with speculative eyes. ‘I’m the corporation secretary,’ she said. ‘Let’s go in the office and take care of the details.’ I followed Carol through the house, admiring the way her naked hips tilted as she walked. She closed the door to the office behind me, and invited me to take a seat. She sat behind the desk. There is something wickedly erotic about a woman wearing nothing but horn-rimmed reading glasses, sitting behind a desk thumbing through a file folder. I felt myself beginning to respond, but she. Bit by bit people wandered in to the bar, taking the opportunity to get out of the building wind, and about mid afternoon the rain started to come down in blinding sheets, so that by four o’clock the place was packed to the rafters and the two couples and the chef were rushed off their feet trying to keep up with the orders. * Davy finally got out the Police Station and grabbing his mobile dialled Patrick’s mobile, but it just rang and rang with no answer. Trying Jerry’s he got the same, it just rang. Walking up and down in the street outside the Police building in an agitated manner, causing the eyebrows of his Solicitor to rise he tried to remember the home numbers for the two couples or the bar number, as they were not programmed like the mobile numbers into the phone, but they were written down in his Filofax in his now burnt down and destroyed office in the club. Getting into his Solicitors car he kept trying to contact the two men as he was driven over to the Hotel to collect.
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