Chapter Eight #2
He remembered the advertisement for Boomerville, which he’d come across by chance.
Andy didn’t normally read the newspapers but earlier in the week, with nothing better to do, he’d sat in a station waiting room and idly attempted a crossword.
The advert glowed like a rainbow and he knew that he’d found an untapped pot of gold.
His booking had been accepted and on his very first night he’d met Kate Simmons.
He hadn’t even had to wade through boring encounters and conversations with eager females anxious to make his acquaintance.
Kate had been served up on a plate and from the moment he laid eyes on his prey he was determined to snare her. Single and rich, she was absolutely gorgeous.
He thought of some of the women he had bedded over the decades and winced.
There was only so long that you could keep up a performance and as the years crept on Andy found it increasingly harder to satisfy women who held no charm.
Only the thought of their ample funds diminishing magically into his own swelling account kept him going – that and the help of a little blue pill and a line of Bolivian marching powder.
But there was no need for Viagra and coke with Kate Simmons in his bed.
She’d succumbed very quickly and he’d had no trouble in rising to the occasion.
Sex with Kate was a pleasure and he found himself enjoying her voluptuous body; she had curves in all the right places and breasts that were still firm and inviting.
The experience was so enjoyable that he’d struggled to keep away from her all day and it was all he could do not to hustle her into the kitchen in the writing studio and ravage her over the sink.
He imagined lifting Kate’s neat little dress and removing her lace knickers and felt himself grow hard.
The thought of pounding into her within earshot of that pompous English teacher made him groan with anticipation.
He chuckled at the thought of the boring boomers with their withered fingers, penning hot romance. Andy had been charming all day and there wasn’t a woman in the class who wouldn’t drop their droopy old drawers if he gave the word.
God help him! He took a slug of the whisky.
With luck, he wouldn’t need to spread his charms further afield than Kate.
A week or two of careful surveillance would enable him to access her accounts and source her funds and with his usual cunning, he’d slip away before Kate had time to wonder what had happened to her money.
Andy poured another drink.
Cigar ash had fallen onto the carpet and he ground it into the thick pile with a well-polished loafer.
The problem with his lifestyle was that he continually had to finance it and work, in the conventional sense, was alien to Andy.
At school, his teachers had despaired of his inability to focus and the young student spent all his time running schemes amongst his fellow pupils to earn money, which mostly paid off.
The product of a single parent family, Andy had been brought up by his mother who often supplemented their benefits by offering benefits in kind to a trail of men who never lingered.
He’d left home and reeled from one job to another until one day, working as a deckhand on a yacht in the south of France, he’d been seduced by a wealthy heiress.
She’d showered the handsome young employee with gifts and money in return for sex and confidentiality, but as their time together increased, became careless.
When her husband discovered the relationship, Andy escaped to the French Riviera where he perfected his talents as a gigolo and his life rapidly improved.
Time after time, he accumulated illicit funds that would have set him up for life, had he been able to resist the urge to spend nights at the gaming tables of some of the world’s top casinos.
His playground until the money ran out.
Then it was back to the drawing board and the trawl for his next victim.
So far, he’d never had any difficulty finding a new income stream and had travelled the world on the proceeds.
Women were incredibly gullible and never came after him.
Their shame gave Andy control and he skilfully covered his tracks.
Who needed a steady job and regular hours when you could live like a king?
With no commitments, he could shag his way into the most prestigious circles with a few concocted stories and a bag full of charm.
Andy chuckled as he knocked back his drink. It was so easy! Middle-aged women were desperate for a final fling and he was happy to provide it.
A figure moved across the lawn and he leaned forward. Kate was running and by the look of things, was soaked. He flicked the butt of his cigar out into the dark and rubbed his hands together. She’d welcome a long hot bath, a bottle of champagne and his gentle caress.
He reached out to close the window but as he leaned forward, another shape moved through the darkness and caught his eye.
A man in a long cloak appeared from the shadow of the conservatory and looked up.
He stared at Andy and glared, then disappeared into the darkness.
Andy slammed the window and it rattled in its frame.
Another Boomerville weirdo! he thought and, leaping to his feet, went to find Kate.