Butterflies

'Mr Mazzanti! Please make yourself at ease.' Mr Benson surprisingly spoke and gestured for us to sit. Mr Dubois and I unexpressionately stared at this man, not really buying his gibberish. 'I'm so sorry for your lost. I honestly should have been at the burial, but work got the best of me.' he sounded as sincere as possible but inside that honestly, it was pretty clear he was bad at acting. Even Mr Dubois found this highly revolting.

'So if I may ask, what brings you here.' his eyebrows twitches, denoting the fact that he wants us to leave as fast as we came.

I numbly repositioned my gaze to Mr Dubois at my side, signifying him to get this over with.

Mr Dubois walks towards the chair in front and makes himself comfortable in it. Benson narrows his face a little bit. He didn't actually expect any of us to buy his good deeds.

'We're here for the documents, Benson.' Mr Dubois says, giving Benson an apathetic stare. Benson throws his head back and smiles abundantly at Mr Dubois' request. That exaggerated expression is thrown at me also. The best I could do was cock my head to the other side in response.

'You guys can't be serious.' Benson chuckled to himself as he said. When he saw our still unexpressionate gaze, his smile froze across his face. 'That document can't be released now. You know that.' he said at the composed Mr Dubois.

'What I know is Marianne Mazzanti won't be collecting those files any longer, which leaves it in his possession.' Mr Dubois says, mildly pleased.

I think I'm getting to enjoy the Mr Dubois of recent. When he mentioned us having an adventure together I didn't realise one sentence had such ambiguous meaning. It is like I have no reason to do the talking when I have him to do the job.

And I tell you, when it comes to issues concerning the Mazzanti family, Mr Dubois becomes an entirely different person.

'Those documents are not anywhere in this building.' I could sense the exasperation within Benson's tone despite his calm resolve.

Mr Dubois took a deep breath, pulled the edge of his suit down and shrugged. It wasn't that he didn't trust Mr Benson, it was just Mr Benson is high rated parsimonious entrepreneur. Knowing the fact that the Mazzanti family was a group of clandestine individuals who needed the press to conceal their diabolic ways, he Mr Benson, should I say somehow remarkably managed to extort money from them. Owning one of the most respected media house in the state, he was just the right person. And my parents weren't exactly the paparazzi ones. They'd mostly keep to themselves and seldom were taciturn in spite all the money we had. Because of this they had to leave the talking to the recompensed media. Which them the media would disseminate the intended news to the public leaving us unaccused.

And I'm guessing all this facades had to be stored. And this is definitely what brought us here. We needed those files. If someone were to get their hands on those papers; I can't imagine the outcome myself.

'Where are they then? Mr Benson.' Mr Dubois asked still with the same stolid look on his face.

'As a matter of fact, I stored them. At home where it's safer. I wouldn't let something inadvertently happen to an information with such a hegemonic background.' Mr Benson smiled and retorted, wriggling his shoulders as he made mention of 'hegemonic'.

'You're a man like me Mr Benson. And men like ourselves, understand ourselves to our very credentials. You play your part and we'll get along...but–if–you–go–astray. They would be corollaries.' Mr Dubois sounded calm, yet the threat followed.

After that following speech, silence followed in. The two Mr's locked their gazes at each others faces. I'm pretty sure Benson wouldn't give out those documents without a fight; and I presume that is if Mr Dubois refuses to compensate him. Keeping up with a man like Benson can be really frustrating, and I can tell you that from past experiences. Speaking of Benson, I left the old men be and quietly strode to the other side of his desk.

The lady he'd devoured sexually still laid like a lifeless puppet on the ground. Even her stygian hairy virgina was leaking white sperm. She looked almost conscious, I caught a reflection of light the moment I stared into her eyeballs. Her slim tender attachment, nearly thousands of them ran all over face and her solid undue breasts seemed more commanding as it stood upright, staring into my face, looking for some ilk of lasciviousness within. I'll tell you, I was enthralled by her beauty.

'Gorgeous right?' A gruff voice clouded my thoughts so I gently responded with a nod.

'How long?' I spoke.

'How?' Benson was pretty confused at my question. So I expounded, 'How long did it take to sedate her?'

'Haa! Sedate? Why would I do that, when I have the endurance of Achilles beneath me.' Mr Benson's speech was covered in pride at this moment.

'So you sexed her till she lost consciousness?'

'When I was your age, I wouldn't be so surprised.' Wow. Here I am surprised. Not that it wasn't possible, but for a man almost the age of my mother. Where the hell did his strength come from?!

I figured out Mr Dubois resented the fact that he shared the same presence with Mr Benson after he abruptly stood up and ended our discussion.

'Mr Ché, sorry for the late reminder but you have a meeting with a member of the union press.'

I nodded gently and looked away from the girl. Then I walked over to Mr Dubois slowly and calmly we walked out from the office. But I had something in mind for Benson so I stopped and turned around, 'You might wanna reconsider where you put that pistol. Because some people might do the honors of gunning you down.' I turned my back and left the room while my voice echoed into his ears sarcastically. 'Just saying, because I care.'

Benson hurriedly pulled out the last drawer on his desk and removed the gun. He stared terrifyingly at his gun then at the door. Then back at the gun then the door and whispered.

'What the fuck.'

I COULD definitely sense the bewildered expression Benson wore after I left. Good thing Anika bought that state-of-the-art holster for drugs just beside her virgina. I was wrong to doubt her inherent personality for acting even after we he entered his office; and I also wonder the time she had to stuck that gun inside his drawer. I've really got to stop doubting Asian ladies.

Mr Dubois and I walked out from the building and drove out inside our pegani. It took about thirty–five minutes to drive out from our current location and into the caliginous night. Our next location was the residence of a dignified and independent lady, in partnership with a media house.

Her residence was isolated from any form of urban disturbances. We drove to her parking spot, taking an 'O' turn before arriving were numerous makes of cars slept. The surroundings was ravishing; about six 4metres gargoyles huddled around the 'O' turn pavement and sent water into a pool. Her gardener did a splendid job by turning her compound into a maze ground and the last, her immaculate glass house. When the lights are turned on you could see every soul in it.

We entered through the front door, skipping the formalities of ringing the bell. Like we we're expected, two young women wearing white overalls bowed with their hands flying on air as we came in. They even gestured and lead the way for us.

Inside the house was made of entirely white tiles and white walls, white leather chairs surrounding a glass table standing on top a furry white rug made from the skin of a white tiger.

The walls had huge incomprehensible paintings with numerous colours and different makings of collage art. At first sight I didn't notice the Signor Cazzo champagne on the glass table with two wine tumblers beside it until she came down.

She wore her translucent lingerie and a cotton red cape that swept the staircase as she descended. Another beauty worthy of the eye. A well made makeup depicting her to be a goddess. Blonde hair, effulgent red lip gloss, tiny hips but a well carved ass.

'Oh, Alvaché my baby. I heard.' she sauntered to me and drove her hands across my cheeks. 'I can be your mama from now.'

Inside me I chuckled before smiling. This lady had no regard for personal feelings. I see her as a sex machine. Only want to please and satisfy her insatiable lust. Especially with me.

I took her hands from my face and poured in glass full of champagne in my tumbler then sank myself into one of the couches. 'To your anniversary.' I raised the tumbler.

She sighed as she notice my change of subject. 'There is no such thing.'

I took a sip and said, 'How so?'

She carefully stared into my gaze. Trying to read my face but I kept my expression blunt. After a momentary stare she clapped once and her female servants on overall came running to her.

One of them slowly pulled out Mrs Blonde's pant and dipped her fingers into Mrs Blonde's womanhood. Mrs Blonde threw her head backwards in excitement and began to morn softly. She kept groaning as her subordinate kept exploring different channels and roots inside her.

Wow. When I looked at Mr Dubois, he pretended to be infatuated with something behide him. As for me I threw all my attention to the spectacle in front. I was even surprise to see the other female servant standing two meters away from them. It felt like she had no desire to participate but yet I also felt she wouldn't turn down any proposal at this instant. Such a confused individual.

Mrs Blondy groaned and groaned as she derived infinite pleasure from the thrusting. Her female servant turned her fingers into a man sized penis, which she used in thrusting in and out of Mrs Blondy. So after so many thrusts, the servant removed her fingers and then it came out. Spilling over the furry white carpet and them on the glass table. I was lucky to have removed my drink from there on time. Her liquid poured over and over nonstop. The servant even had to place her mouth in her virgina to reduce the outburst. And after several, several attempts, it stopped thank to the servant's mouth and also to God.

Now Mrs Blondy looked like she just had seizure. I could loudly here her panting for consciousness. 'This is... why.'

Haa! I wonder how women felt when it comes to sex. Men own is understandable. The lady's virgina is always hot. Least I was told. But the females, maybe because I'm not one so I don't get to know.

Now I wonder. Wonder why the hell did I just think of that?!