Let's get one thing straight at the start: I am very rich. People in our little town say that I, and my wife, own half the town. In fact, we probably own a bit more than that. Most of the shops on the main street rent their stores from us, and many owe us money through business loans we make. I would like to say we do this for altruistic reasons, but this would not be entirely true. We do it to make more money, and sometimes for other reasons, which I will come to shortly. But, first a little history.
I was born quite wealthy and went to a good college, which is where I met Zoe, my wife. We were naturally attracted to each other as we are both good looking, her much more than me it must be said. She has a stunning figure and classical good looks. But we also soon realised that we both have similar-how shall I put it?- appetites? And being wealthy means we have lots of opportunities to indulge them. But, back to the present.
It started when I got a phone call from one of our business tenants, a Mrs. Stone who owns a small houseware store in town. She sounded very upset, even distraught and I said that I would come over and have a talk with her. I told Zoe I had to go out and hopped into the Ferrari.
It was a ten minute drive through light traffic and when I got there Mrs. Stone was waiting on the sidewalk outside her shop, wringing her hands and looking as though she had been crying. We went inside and she told me the story. It seems that somehow she had gotten involved in a scam when a friend had put her onto what she had described as a "sure fire money making opportunity". I almost laughed at this as it was so clichéd, but I kept my poker face. She was already struggling due to the downturn in the economy and a high level of debt, mostly to me it must be said. And now she was going to be unable to meet her rent or her monthly payments on the loan. In short, she was looking for help.
Well, I listened to her tale and at the end she just looked at me waiting to hear what I was going to say. I just sat there, taking it in, and finally said "I think I might be able to help you." She brightened up at once, clutching at this hope. "But it is something you are going to have to consider carefully."
"Anything," she said. I held up a hand. "Wait before you say that," I said. I folded my arms across my chest. "Is your daughter here?" I asked her.
She looked confused. "My Emma?" I nodded. "Well, yes, she always helps out.
She's out the back in the store-room."
"Can you call her," I asked. "This concerns her too."
Mrs. Stone still looked confused but called her daughter.
Now, at this point I have to tell you about young Emma. I had noticed her when the Stone's first rented the store from us a few years ago. Even then the girl was outstanding; a beautiful young woman with a slim figure but large, round breasts that were obviously firm and tight, always seeming to push at her tight sweaters. She had only just turned eighteen a few weeks ago and we had been invited to the small, humble party they had thrown. Both Zoe and I had been almost unable to take our eyes from her and had talked about her endlessly when we got home, in bed.
Emma appeared, wearing short dungarees and a tee shirt that appeared to be a size too small, though it probably wasn't. "Hello," she said brightly.
"Could you take a seat" I said," we need to have a chat."
She did so and I told them my proposition. "I am prepared to help you out financially," I said. "We can restructure the loan, and we can do something with the rent to tide you over," I told them. "But I am going to want something in exchange."
"Of course," Mrs. Stone said. "Whatever you want."
