Fuck Buddy Club Ch 07

Work was stressful for the rest of the week. MJ called in to see me on Friday afternoon. "You look stressed," she said, sitting on the chair in front of my desk.

"Yeah, bad week workwise."

"But good in your personal life, I hear," she smiled.

"Yeah, Olivia was something else. She was built for sex. We had a great time. Which reminds me, she left her jacket behind."

"Yeah, she mentioned that to me. I'm looking forward to Sunday," she said quietly. "It will be nice to get away from here and home, spending a night somewhere different."

"Yes, it will," I said, my phone ringing again. I rolled my eyes when I saw who it was.

MJ leaned over and placed her hand on mine. "I'll de-stress you on Sunday night," she said quietly.

"Looking forward to it," I said as she left my office.

I picked MJ up on Sunday, and we made the long trip, stopping a few times for a break as the traffic was busy. Roadworks and a couple of accidents didn't help the traffic flow. We arrived at the hotel after 7 hours of travelling.

We checked in, and the room was nice, clean, and modern, just like any hotel chain room. I lay back on the bed, and MJ lay beside me. "That was tough," I said.

"I know; thank you for driving. I wouldn't have liked to do it." She curled up next to me and lay her head on my chest. "I hope it will be worth it, but I suspect they wanted a face-to-face meeting to charge me extra. I wonder if their bill will be more than Uncle Geroge's left me. I bet I'll end up owing them money."

We lay there dozing for a while. I felt MJ get up, and she started to unpack a few things. I must have fallen asleep as the next thing I knew, my cock was in her mouth as she slowly blew me.

I opened my eyes to see her completely naked, lying on my legs, looking up at me with half my cock in her mouth. "Get undressed. I'm going to blow you, then we can sleep." She helped me out of my clothes and continued to blow me softly. I lay back and enjoyed her actions on me as she slowly blew me, licking and teasing my balls, then taking me as deep into her mouth as she could. I felt her slide up and kiss me, then take me into her wet pussy. "Change of plan. I need your cock in me," she whispered into my ear.

She slowly rode me, and I held her firm boobs in my hands as she rocked on me. I felt her cumming on me a few times, and then she slid down and blew me again, tasting her juices now covering my cock. She blew me softly for ages, eventually convincing my balls to release my cum into her mouth.

The following day, we had sex, early morning wake-up sex. We then made out in the shower together and went for breakfast. I sat opposite her and saw her smiling at her phone.

"What?"

"Olivia wants you again this week. Is Thursday after school okay?"

"Fuck, she's going to wear me out," I laughed. "But, yes, Thursday would be good."

"Well, I've not planned anyone else this week. Louise wants another visit with you, but I've hooked her up with the coach, so we'll see how that goes. Then there's Anna, of course. Maybe next weekend sometime?"

"Maybe. Yes."

We finished breakfast, checked out of the hotel, and headed to her appointment. I parked outside the brand-new office building. "This must cost them a lot. I assume the invoice is going to be excessive. I'm nervous about this. Will you come in with me?" she asked.

"Are you sure? It's personal to you."

"You are the only thing I have resembling a family member now. It's just a handover of some items. I need some support," she said, holding my hand firmly.

"Okay," I said, leaning over and hugging her.

We entered and sat waiting for Rebecca. The receptionist behind the desk was cute, wearing a black business suit, stockings, and heels. "I can see what's grabbing your attention," MJ chuckled.

"Sorry, old habits. You know me and nice-looking women in heels," I laughed.

"She is hot. It's a pity we're so far away," she whispered.

"She must be in her late teens or early twenties at most. She won't be interested in me. I'm almost old enough to be her father," I said, looking at MJ.

"How old was Priti again?" she teased.

She was correct; Priti was in her early twenties, and maybe I could still attract some younger women.

An older woman, probably in her late 40s or early 50s, appeared, breaking my thoughts on the receptionist and Priti. "Miss Johnson?" she asked.

"Yes, "MJ said.

"Rebecca Hodgeson," she said, holding out her hand.

"This is my partner. I'd like him to be with me," MJ said, keeping things simple as we shook her hand.

"Absolutely," Rebecca smiled.

We followed her into an office and closed the door behind us. There was some small talk about our trip as she thanked us for coming so far.

"Okay, shall we get started?" she asked. I could see a large pile of folders and papers on her desk. Surely, this wasn't all for us?

MJ grabbed my hand; she was uncomfortable with the situation. "Please. We don't want to waste too much of your time," said MJ, hoping to keep the meeting as short as possible.

"There is much to discuss," Rebecca said, placing her hand on the tall pile of paperwork on the edge of her desk. MJ looked at me as we both wondered what on earth all this was, no doubt we would soon be finding out.

"Let's start with the will reading and get the formalities over," said Rebecca, as MJ and I sat in front of her desk looking at the piles of paper. "It's short and to the point with no specific instructions and is dated 6th September 2006. I won't go through the full reading. The executor of the will shall be yourself, Miss Mary Jane Johnson. Debts and administration expenses will be directed to the executor, namely yourself. Bequests of all named property, personal items and finances shall go solely to Miss Mary Jane Johnson. Signed by George Edward Charles Johnson of Greenfield House, Barkham Mills, East Sussex, on this day, 6th September 2006. So in effect, he left everything in his name to you. Any incurred administration and funeral expenses shall be the executor's responsibility, which, again, is yourself."

MJ nodded. "So that's where Uncle George lived," said MJ. "He was a bit of a recluse. I hardly ever saw him, always off somewhere. Never married. We only saw him at funerals; the last time was August 2006."

"A month before this will was made," I added.

MJ nodded, "He must have changed it when Uncle Bill died. He was never married either."

"Okay. Interesting," Rebecca nodded. "Can I assume George was your father's brother?"

"Yes, he was. I lost my father when I was sixteen."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. That cannot have been easy," Rebecca said.

"No, it wasn't. I lost my mum when I was twelve, so I ended up with friends for a while before I went to university and got onto my own two feet."

"That must have been awful to lose both parents when you were so young."

"It was, but it made me strong and taught me some hard life lessons. It made me very independent and taught me how to fend for myself and not rely on others for help. I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or not."

Rebbecca nodded, "Should I refer to him as George or maybe Uncle George from now on? It will be more informal for you."

MJ nodded, "Uncle George will be fine; I never knew any of his middle names until now."

"Okay, let's start with assets and belongings. As we discussed, Uncle Geroge resided at Barchester Nursing Home until his sudden untimely passing. As is standard, when no family members are present, the care home will go through his possessions, dispose of any immaterial items, clothing, etc., and retain his personal belongings. They found this will and many other items within his personal items and contacted us as we had previously acted on his behalf. We took custody of his personal effects, some of which are here," she said, pointing to two small storage boxes beside her desk. "We then started work on tracking you down and contacting you. Due to some of the items we found during our search and subsequent 3rd party involvement, we have a fee statement covering our incurred administrative costs, which I'll come to later."

MJ looked at me knowingly. Her suspicion that they required a fee was seemingly true.

Rebecca continued. "The two boxes here mostly contain photographs, personal letters, etc. However, there is a third smaller box, which I shall have brought through," she said as she tapped away on her phone, obviously messaging someone. "It's currently secured in our safe as it contains some items of value."

MJ looked at me. "Valuables? Jewellery? He did used to wear a ring and a watch."

Rebecca nodded silently. There was a knock at the door a moment later, and a young guy lifted a secure metal box onto the desk. "Thank you, James," Rebecca said.

"We took the liberty of securing the items in a suitable box rather than the old shoe box they were found in. Would you like to open it?"

MJ opened the box and looked inside. I could see numerous velvet bags in purples, blues, reds, and blacks. "What are these?" MJ asked.

"Uncle George's personal effects that were found in his room." MJ picked out the first bag and opened it. Inside was a large gold bracelet encrusted with what looked like diamonds and other gems.

"What the fuck," she said, looking at the large piece of jewellery in her hand. "Sorry," she quickly apologised.

"It's fine. I doubt you were not the first to say that when first seeing it," she laughed.

"It feels heavy. Is it real? It certainly looks real, but I'm no expert," MJ said, passing it to me and looking into the box again. She opened a second bag, and a similar bracelet was inside, though smaller.

Rebecca continued, "We have had all the items in this box assessed by a local jewellery expert, and he concludes that they are genuine. He believes that the first bracelet, in particular, is French. Circa 1820. 18 carrot gold, diamond and emerald encrusted bracelet. I have his assessment of this and the others in the box."

"Genuine gold and diamond bracelets?" asked MJ.

Rebecca nodded as MJ looked through the box. She pulled out a box with 'Patek Philippe' written on it. Inside was an antique watch, though again, I was no expert.

"We have a breakdown and the estimated valuation of the contents of this box," she said, passing over two sheets of paper. "These are estimates, should the items go onto the open market for sale privately or via auction. The valuation may vary up or down. The first item is the large diamond bracelet."

MJ stared at the paper, then at the second sheet. I could see everything was handwritten, but I couldn't make anything out.

"Sorry, but what the actual fuck," said MJ passing me the sheets. "Is this real?"

Rebecca nodded, "I know it comes as a bit of a shock, which is why we needed to see you in person, and obviously, you would need to collect them in person as well."

I looked at the sheet. The bracelet was estimated at £150k, the second at £120k, and the list went on over two sheets. I saw Patek Philippe with £112k next to it. There were some big numbers there.

"I don't understand," said MJ, slumping back on her chair. "He never had any money. How did he end up with these? Are they legal? They are not stolen, are they?"

"We believe everything is legal. Our contracted experts made due enquiries, and none of these items were marked as stolen at any time. Indeed, there are receipts from various countries within some of the bags for the items, so we believe Uncle George genuinely purchased them. Please remember that any valuation may be subject to taxes, inheritance taxes, etc. Though we're not tax experts, proper financial advice should be sought."

"This is too much to take in," said MJ.

I went through the figures, adding up the total in my head. "I make it to be around 750k."

Rebecca nodded. "The estimation totals just over £776,000, but as I mentioned, this is just an estimate; market values may vary."

"Holy shit," MJ sighed, shaking her head. "How has he managed to buy these?"

"Well, we do see this quite often. People who live alone often hide away their money and assets. Also, bear in mind inflation. The purchase price was considerably less than this. It's just the market has risen, and valuations have increased. Some of these were purchased over 40 years ago. He must have been a shrewd investor, as I'll come onto next."

"Next? You mean there's more?" asked MJ.

"Indeed, let's move onto the property. Greenfield House is an Edwardian house set on 2.6 acres of land. In 2012, Uncle George transferred the house into a trust in your name. It was a shrewd move, and we assume he had been given some sound financial advice at the time." Rebecca passed over a sheet with photographs. "We took the liberty of retrieving the property details and value from the agent that is currently maintaining the property."

We looked at the sheet. It was a grand house, not the run-down terrace MJ expected. "Uncle George owns this?" MJ asked.

Rebecca smiled. "He did, but technically speaking, you have owned it since it was transferred into your name in 2012. It is another good investment as you will not have to pay any taxes on the property or assets."

"Assets?" I asked.

"Yes, the house is furnished, so to speak."

"Uncle George lived here?" MJ asked again.

"Yes. Records show he purchased the property in 1991. In 2012, he moved into the care home, but the house and gardens appear to be well maintained; as you can tell, the garden is in good condition, and even the grass is regularly cut. The agent knew Uncle George personally and had honoured his request to maintain the property all these years. So, the house appears to be in a good state of repair. It's just not lived in."

"I see," said MJ, clearly lost in her thoughts.

"You mentioned assets," I asked.

"Yes, the agent allowed us entry and took photos of the interior," she said, passing us more sheets of paper. The images showed rooms of furniture covered in white dust sheets. "We took the liberty of having an expert look over the items. A list of his discoveries is available here."

She passed over another list of furniture items and their estimated value. MJ was reading through the list, shaking her head. "This isn't happening," she said quietly. I took hold of her hand and held her tightly.

"There are also some outbuildings which contain a substantial vehicle collection," Rebecca said.

"Of course there is," MJ said a little sarcastically. "I'm sorry, that came out wrong. I'm just a little shocked by all this."

"I understand. It's only natural," Rebecca said. "Here is a list of vehicles and valuations and a final sheet with the total asset values."

MJ was still reviewing the furniture list, so I looked at the vehicle list: 1967 E-type, 1972 Rolls Royce Silver Shadow, various old Ferraris, and other vintage sports cars. A separate building contained military vehicles, including T32 and T34 Soviet tanks, British chieftain tanks, troop transporters, and others.

MJ looked at the total valuation and passed it to me, standing up, walking over to the window, and looking out.

Jewellery and miscellaneous items £776K

Greenfield House valuation £1.7 million

Greenfield House's total assets are circa £500K, with unknown military vehicle values.

Almost 3 million in total.

"Greenfield House. I'm sure he used to live at Greenfield Farm. It sounds very familiar," MJ said.

"Yes, we found details of a Greenfield farm. There are auction records from around the late 1980s; various military and general vehicle auctions were held there.

"So, it appears he named the house after the farm," I said. MJ nodded. "Could you give us a few minutes?" I asked.

"Of course," Rebecca said, getting up and leaving the room.

I went to MJ, who was looking out of the window and wrapped my arms around her. She turned around and faced me, hugging me tightly. "What's going on?" she asked. "I can't believe this."

"I know, but you're rich," I smiled at her. "Uncle George has provided for you."

"Why wouldn't he tell me about this, though? Why wait until he's gone for me to find out about it all?"

"Who knows, but you know he kept himself to himself," I said. "But I guess you don't need to worry about their fee," I laughed, trying to make her laugh.

She looked up at me and kissed me. "I guess not," she smiled, then returned to the desk to look in the box, going through the photos and some papers.

Rebecca returned a few minutes later, "How are you doing?" she asked.

"Shocked to be honest. The last time I saw him in 2006, he looked like a tramp, driving an old beat-up car, and yet he was living here with all this stashed away somewhere."

"It appears that he bought everything as an investment, not wasting money on anything that would degrade or lose money over time," I said. "I guess inflation is a key factor here; though everything is relative, the house value in the 1990s would still have been high for the time."

"Indeed, He purchased it for £299k. So inflation is the key factor here, for everything. In over thirty years, everything has increased in value. Are you ready to continue?"

MJ looked at me confused, "There's more?" she asked.

"Indeed, he had several bank accounts in his name, primarily used for payment of his care, running costs and maintenance on the property. These were finalised at £236,321.02 when the accounts were suspended when we notified the banks of his passing." MJ sat motionless. I moved a hand to hers, and she grabbed it tightly. "As I mentioned, we have incurred some costs, including our investigation work and valuation costs. The sum of which is £5,230. We can deduct these directly from your uncle's account. If that is agreeable?"

MJ didn't say anything. "I think that will be fine," I said.

"There is now just the matter of the remaining trust items," Rebecca looked at MJ, finding no response, but then continued. "Uncle George had several shares and investments placed in your name. The earliest we can find is from 1990. The majority of shares were purchased during the financial crashes in October 1990 and again in 2008, probably a very shrewd investment over time. As for any shares, they rise and fall, but the long-term trend is for them to rise, which is what they have done. Along with these, several investments in government bonds and gilts have matured and can be redeemed anytime. The maturing and compound interest payments have continued to accumulate for many years in a separate high-interest account."

MJ and I both sat motionless as Rebecca paused to take a drink of water. I knew you would only invest in bonds and gilts if you had significant money to invest over a long period. With a Gilt, you are effectively borrowing money to the government, a low-risk investment over a long period of time with high rewards. 30 years of compound interest on any investment would be significant. How much were we talking about here? Each time she mentioned a new item, the values were increased. "Going off the share valuation and statement balances as per the close of the day on Friday the 7th, the total value of these monies was £24,198,545.45."

MJ was staring at her feet. I could see tears forming and running down her cheek. I leaned over and hugged her, and she started crying on my shoulder. I heard Rebecca get up and leave the room, quietly closing the door.

I held her as she cried, kissing the top of her head.

"What the hell will I do with £24 million?"

"24 plus the house and that box of sparkling goodies."

"Shit, I'm getting lost, it's too much to take in."

"Well, thanks to Uncle George, you can fulfil your dreams. Leave work and buy a nice place in the country with land and stables. Spend some of it and live off the interest payments alone."

I held her for a while, and then she went to the boxes of photographs and papers and glanced through them, finding a photo of her and her dad with Uncle George. She looked at the picture, and more tears were forming as she held it tightly.