Melba and Wanda Part 1
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A PromiseChapter 11 free porn video
No time like the present, I thought as I got back home, so I made the promised call. I'd no sooner put the phone down, after making an appointment to see Mr. Kopolova, when it rang.
'David?' a delicious little voice asked, one I recognised but couldn't instantly place.
'It's Maureen, ' she said when I'd confirmed my identity. I was slightly taken aback so hesitated somewhat. As I didn't respond my caller added needlessly, 'Maureen Linnighan!'
'I know that voice instantly, ' I lied, 'I'm just a little surprised to hear it that's all.'
'What are you up to this evening?'
'Sitting in front of the box probably, unless you have a better idea.'
'Sure do. Meet me at "The Dog" around seven thirty.'
'Fine with me... '
'Okay, got to go, I'm still at work, catch you later.'
With that she was gone, leaving me with no chance to ask what it was about. As usual, rather than wait, I tried to guess why. The only reason I could come up with was that she had enjoyed being with me enough to want a repeat. I was more than happy with that but wondered about the existing boyfriend. Thinking about it, she hadn't seemed overjoyed when talking about him so maybe they were going through a sticky patch or a breakup.
My mind didn't have a moments peace as I contemplated what I should say to Mr. Kopolova and just how I should say it and of course what, exactly, did Maureen want. Even as I walked to Penkhull more of the day's events came to mind as I had to pass Lyn's home. I tried hard not to look into the house as once more my brain went through a what if scenario. I arrived at the "Dog" or "Greyhound" to give it its correct name, with plenty of time to spare. The pub, one of three in Penkhull, is one of the oldest buildings in the area, with a history stretching back to the sixteenth century, and incorporates the former Courthouse of the Manor of Newcastle-under-Lyme. It also has a soft spot in my heart as it was the first pub that I ever went in as it was my father's local. A fleeting sadness came as I recalled all the good times I'd had there with my dad. I still missed him along with my mum and brother.
I was half way through my first pint, still thinking about my family and what might have been when I saw Maureen enter. She looked around, spotted me and headed over. I stood up, about to ask what she wanted to drink when I noticed a man following just a few steps behind her.
'Hi Maureen!' I said looking at the other man, not sure whether he was actually with Maureen or it was just a coincidence.
'Hi David.' She said before turning to the man. 'Richard this is my old school friend David Powell. David, this is Richard Foster, my boss. He would like to talk to you about working for us.'
'Thanks Mo, why don't you toddle off and get some drinks, I'll take it from here.' I was shocked to see that my friend had not reacted. I knew Maureen had always hated being called Mo and I'd be amazed if that had changed.
'Sit down Dave, ' he almost ordered as he watched Maureen head to the bar. 'Nice arse, pity she has no tits or she'd be worth a quick fuck don't you think?'
I stood up. 'Actually Dick I don't, sorry what did you say your surname was; Head?' I stressed his name. 'I have no idea why you are here and to be honest I couldn't care less.'
'It's Richard Foster Dave, and as Mo said I want you to work for me.'
Still standing, I glanced toward the bar where Maureen was still waiting to be served. 'DICK! There isn't a cat in hell's chance that I would work for a obnoxious prick like you.'
His response was not at all what I expected. He guffawed. Guffaw is a word I knew but nobody I had ever heard had a laugh that seemed to fit that word until then. He guffawed deeply and so loudly that everyone in the pub turned to look at us. I glanced at my friend and saw that she had a knowing grin spread across her face as she looked at us.
'Sorry about that David but it's something I always do. We are a smallish company with more than our fair share of minorities. Anyone with any prejudices, real or pretend, could ruin our special working environment. You'd be surprised by how many people are caught out by my little bit of acting. By the way, I loved that Head surname thing.'
By then Maureen had returned and she was laughing loudly. 'See Richard, I told you didn't I?'
He smiled at her, 'that you did MO.' He shortened her name with slow deliberation and was rewarded with a clout around the back of his head. 'Hey, that's no way to treat your exalted boss.'
Despite my initial anger and lingering doubts, I couldn't help but smile at the way the two interacted. It looked like they had a good working relationship, in fact I wondered whether Richard was Maureen's boyfriend, even though he had to be twenty years her elder. Richard then switched to business mode and began telling me about his company and how he felt computerisation could improve it. It was a manufacturing business that specialised in equipment to help the disabled. He also stressed that there were quite a few staff, or guinea pigs as he called them, with various disabilities. He said that he could foresee computers making huge inroads towards improving the day to day life of many.
'Another drink guys?' Richard asked as we reached a lull. We both nodded and he headed up to the bar.
'I was ready to punch his lights out at first but he doesn't seem too bad now.'
'I guessed as much, I did warn him that that was on the cards but he is very much a maverick. He thinks outside the box and that's why the business is so successful.'
'Fucking bitch, ' I heard a man yell near by. 'I told you what would happen if I found you screwing around on me again.'
I turned around to see a small man, no more than 5' 7", rapidly closing in on our table. His face was scarlet with rage and I quickly realised that he was talking to, or rather shouting at, Maureen. I automatically stood up and stepped in front of him.
'Oh I see the little cunt thinks her new dick will stop me.' He looked at me with pure hatred. 'Look arsehole she is my bitch and you'd best keep out of this before you get hurt too.'
"Short Arse Syndrome" I thought as I looked down at the almost frothing man. Rather than say what I thought, I did try to calm the situation. 'Look, Maureen and I are having a quiet drink in a busy pub, we are old... '
I never got chance to finish as he stepped forward and aimed a quick jab at my abdomen. Because I was expecting that, or at least something like that, I was able to deflect it. All this did was rile him even more.
'Excuse me sir, I must ask you to leave the premises at once.' I heard a female voice say firmly. I instantly recognised it as that of the landlady Betty Pritchard. The guy turned sharply and before anyone could move hit her across the face with the back of his hand.
'Piss off cunt, I'll leave when I've sorted this other cunt out and not before.' He screamed as he hit her.
That was a huge mistake on his part. Betty was well loved and had been running the "Dog" for almost a decade. Needless to say, in any decent boozer, there are many regulars of all shapes and sizes. Most of the men in at this time of the evening tended to be manual workers having a pint or two before going home. Whilst I was still thinking about what to do, about six of them hit the short arse simultaneously. He was swiftly and very painfully detained, awaiting the arrival of the police.
I slumped down once everything was under control. I might be 6' 6" tall and weigh just under 14 stone (200lbs) but I was not a fighter, as my inaction had proved. My size meant that I was occasionally a target so I had learned to defend myself. I had also learned not to attack even after being struck, as I would always then be presumed the aggressor.
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