Cynthia and Dickson are talking with Natasha who is behind the counter in the Police Station. She is all tears, as well as GM’s widow, Mrs. Dakwoi, who keeps talking of her late husband. Natasha has just about ten minutes before she would be returned to the cell, from where she had been called to meet her friends.
The inspector had sent his men to pick her up in her house early this morning. She was all alone, though on phone with the Arabian man who she was planning to spend the night with. She’d refused to say anything to the police without her lawyer who is now taking forever to show up. She had also called the Army General but he wouldn’t pick. She knew he would not answer her call, not after catching her on a hidden camera caressing his driver in the official car. The driver is now cooling off in a guardroom. She knew immediately that it was over between them. Oh, how she would miss the Geneva trip, and also a fulfilling copulation with the soldier boy. But now, most desperately, she needs to talk to a professional or a high ranking politician. Not that she is guilty, but she is scared of how the police would handle it. She has learnt how innocent people rot in jails for not knowing anyone in high places or not having a good legal representation. Prison, she thought. Not Natasha Peters.
“I thought this case was closed.” Dickson says worriedly over the counter.
“It was”, replies a haggard Natasha. “Until an embittered policeman reopened it, said GM’s widow got to hear about the note with my name on it, and she wants the matter investigated. Well, I am not afraid. I am just missing you my baby boy. When last did you have sex?”

Dickson hisses. Cynthia dips her finger in between Dickson’s thighs, unseen by no one, except a police man walking towards the door from outside.
“Answer me, you bastard.”
“Are you drunk?” Dickson is getting irritated.
“Yes, the last sperm I swallowed from sucking you was 120% alcoholic, isn’t that enough to intoxicate?” retorts the accused. “Now, tell me, will Cynthia my friend get intoxicated too?”
“Oh, shit!” exclaims Cynthia, “Not here please. And that’s not why we are here.”
“Yes, that’s not why we are here” Dickson echoes, then taps Cynthia’s shoulder before walking away from the counter.
“Really, why are you here, good fellows?”
Cynthia bends over to whisper. “Your baby boy is worried.”
“He is your Alibi, and…he doesn’t want you to link him up with…”
Natasha laughs out loud, drawing attention. “But that’s all I have….”
Cynthia cuts in, “I also am, remember?”
“They know you are my friend, and that you crash in my house most times….it’s not strong enough. We could have arranged it….”
“But Dickson doesn’t want it in the public that he was with you that night.”
Natasha waits for Dickson to be back before responding. “I see. You want me to go to jail so both of you can consummate your passion, right?”
“What is she saying?” Dickson pretends he didn’t hear what Natasha had just said.
“Natasha, I swear I am not taking your man. I am a Christian, trust me I ….” Natasha’s anger burns at Cynthia’s canting.

“Christian?! Well, of course, you are Mary and I am Martha, doing two-some on Lazarus, right?” Natasha mocks.
“We were drunk that day, Natasha, and …”
“And the drink has finished in the fridge or in Banex Plaza? Saint Dickson here knows where to get Red Label, your favourite.” Natasha’s voice is too loud and both Dickson and Cynthia feel ashamed. The inspector comes out, Natasha looks at him with a loving smile, and says, “Sweetheart….” The Inspector ignores her and says hello to Cynthia.
“Afternoon sir,” Cynthia greets him. Dickson too. Natasha looks at the three with indignation.

“Don’t just try her, my pussy juice is sweeter….Do you miss me, Inspector?” The man ignores her again and goes to speak with GM’s widow, motioning to his boys to take her away.
“I miss you anyway, your long dick, a real patriot….” Natasha is saying before been pulled away. Cynthia angrily pulls Dickson away, stopping over to say hi to Mrs. Dakwoi before leaving.
“Natasha is going insane,” Dickson says as they enter Cynthia’s room and he sits on the arm of a cushion chair. Can I get cold water, please?”
“I am more insane than she is.” Says Cynthia as she pulls off her top and throws it on the couch. “And yes, you can get cold juice, but not from the fridge.” Dickson raises his brow. His phone rings and he picks, saying “Hello dear…yes, I am in the office.” While he talks on, Cynthia is pants down before him, rubbing her nipples on his forehead.
Dickson is frowning, and trying hard to be calm on the phone. He tells the caller that the MD is not around, so he is standing in for him in a business meeting, and that he would call her back. He drops, and stands abruptly, pushing Cynthia aside.
“You are right,” Cynthia says.
“The MD is not around….and I am standing in for him…her…in a business meeting.”
“Exactly what I am also doing? This is for Natasha, the MD of your life…”
“I’ve got to go. I was talking to my wife, and….”
“And I am here to make you feel better….I don’t nag like housewives, you know.” She moves behind him and starts to lick the back of his neck. Dickson is frowning. “Stop!” he says, but not moving away.
“I love this business meeting,” whispers Cynthia, and blows a hot breeze into his ears. Cold catches Dickson and he twitches. Cynthia swiftly zips down his trousers and gets hold of his dick. The wet cap encourages her. She pushes him down on the couch and rushes to sit on him, facing him. Dickson is still, his manhood strong with veins designing it.
“Last night was good…” Cynthia whispers. “But afternoon sex could be great.”
“You told your friend we are not doing anything.” Dickson says as she grabs his dick and sets it against her clitoris.
“Small lie compared to the one you just told your wife,” replies Cynthia. Dickson sighs.
“You girls are terrible.”
“That’s why you keep coming to us….enough words….” She inserts it into her. He holds her tightly and she begins to grind, screaming, and moaning. He starts to kiss her to reduce the sound. But soon, it is he who screams as he climaxed. “Oh, I love you baby.” He says atop his loud panting that follows the orgasm.
“Reserve that for your wife,” Cynthia says to him as she gets up and goes to the bathroom.

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