Soldier of Fortune

"How about half that figure for fifty one percent," I counter offered, and he sat there staring at me while he pondered.

"That would give you a controlling interest," he pointed out the obvious. "That's Ok, but could I trust you?"

I sighed and thought seriously about my answer, and found that I didn't hate this man anymore, and after dealing with him over the last several months, didn't really even dislike him. I'd made a point of checking up on Jenny's situation and it was just as he'd said. She was ...... Well ....... She simply didn't live in my world anymore. She was a nonentity as far as I was concerned.

"I think you can," I said at last. "Trust me that is. I really think you can."

"I think I believe you," he replied, smiled and offered me his hand to shake.

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There were check ups to be done to make sure that there were no skeletons in the cupboard and there weren't any. The deal was agreed, and the deal was done, giving me the option to buy the rest of the shares any time in the next five years. I would be taking over as Managing Director, and at my suggestion George would stay on as Chairman. Surprising how easily it turned out to be for two men who had been cheated on by the same woman to bond together. He was to be a Chairman who planned to stay mainly in the background, to be able to spend more time with his young daughter Ginny, who he had custody of. I was also relieved to discover when I eventually met her, cute though she undoubtedly was, that I pretty obviously wasn't her father. Suddenly it seemed that from my humble beginnings I found myself at the head of my small but growing engineering empire.

I still however had a personal life to live, casual relationships with some very attractive woman being fun, but not what I was looking for in the longer term. What I needed was a nice young woman to become my wife and settle down in some leafy suburb and have two and a half children and a dog of course.

Eventually perhaps?

My new position gave me more opportunity to travel and it wasn't difficult to wrangle a trip to Mumbai where I knew for a fact that the lovely Neha was living, having moved back there to work as the number two to her father in their hotel and restaurant business.

"It's Mike from Dubai," I introduced myself when I phoned her.

"Which one?" she answered, rather disappointingly, though of course a whole lot of water must have passed under a whole load of bridges by then.

"The one with the scar," I answered, wondering if she would remember, or whether I was about to make a fool of myself.

"Oh yes," she cooed encouragingly. "Killed any more baddies lately?"

"Just a few," I laughed back, wondering how she'd react if she knew how truthfully I'd answered.

We chatted some more, reacquainting ourselves, and arranged to meet later that evening. I invited her for dinner, but she declined, suggesting we went to some trendy bar she knew.

"Not hungry?" I joked.

"Only for you," she laughed back. "We've got some unfinished business."

Suddenly I didn't feel hungry either.

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The bar was indeed trendy, very exclusive and if I hadn't been with Neha then I probably would have struggled to gain entry. Neha was quite as exquisite and beautiful as I remembered her and greeted me with a sizzling kiss, as if we were already lovers.

"You left me very frustrated that night Mike," she admitted.

"You're not the only one," I admitted back.

"Come and meet the crowd," she then said, dragging me into the centre of the place where it seemed all the young and rich, 'in crowd' of Mumbai had gathered. The fact that Neha didn't stand out too much in the crowd demonstrated just how beautiful the girls were. Mostly petite, just like Neha; pretty, almost delicate faces and simply gorgeous slim bodies just like Neha, and yes, competing with one another to show off as much bare skin as they could....... Just like Neha, or Na, as they all seemed to call her. I had a whirlwind introduction but remembered few of the girl's names and none of the men's, and soon found myself being passed from girl to girl on the dance floor, all of them eager to get acquainted with the swashbuckling soldier of fortune returned from the war. No idea what fantasy tale Neha spun them, but I soon gave up denying that I was SAS, a James Bond type spy, a General with the United Nations and even a paid assassin. I did however put right one young thing, who asked me if it was true that I was a member of the Royal family.

The guys were amazingly accommodating considering how popular I was with their girlfriends, though maybe the stories, the missing finger and the scar on my cheek made them cautious. As the action warmed up the girls started to discard any excess clothes they had on, though there was precious little of that to begin with. Then the men, or some of them started to remove their shirts, those who had six packs that is. There was no way I was going to go down that path, though I certainly had nothing to be ashamed of, but two of Neha's pretty friends decided otherwise. While one of them nibbled on my neck, pushed her tits up against my back and held my hands behind me, the other one undid the buttons on my shirt. So maybe I didn't exactly put up much resistance, and they soon had my shirt off, gasping in admiration of some sort at the scar which was still visible on my chest, and making further denials about my apparent violent history worthless.

I did however manage to stop them just in time as one of them, who I seem to remember had bigger tits than the others, started to undo the belt to my trousers.

The girls, again some of them, not to be undone by their men-folk and no doubt fuelled by the alcohol everyone had consumed by them, also started stripping clothes off. A top here and a skirt there, a cheer going up as the first girl took her bra off. One by one the other girls moved to the centre of the circle the crowd had formed, and encouraged by the raucous cheers, clapping and salacious suggestions, they danced around, swung their hips suggestively and teased us all till at last they took their bras off, threw them into the crowd and shaking their tits at us.

Neha was, not surprisingly one of the early ones, and having worn a dress ended up in just high heels and panties. I was happy to welcome her back alongside me in the circle, where she joined in encouraging the other girls, not objecting to where I was putting my hands as she did so.

A select few of us moved on to a private apartment somewhere nearby, me without my shirt which I never found again, several of the women brazenly wandering down the busy street with their tits out on display as if they owned the place. On second thoughts maybe they, or at least their families may well have done so. Neha was with us, or at least I think she was, the booze that I had poured down my throat at some stage that night frazzling by brain, and the rest of the night becoming very hazy.

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The next morning never actually arrived for me till some time that afternoon, and I woke up wondering where the hell I was. I worked that out, at least to within a few hundred square miles, only then realising that I wasn't alone in the bedroom, a delightfully dusky and naked young woman standing there grinning at me.

"Awake at last?" she laughed deliciously.

"Unless you're angel," I chuckled back, not sure whether even a naked angel could be as lovely as the girl, who I didn't even recognise, certainly was.

"Breakfast?" She asked.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my recollections of the previous night flooding back. "What are you doing here?"

"I drew the long straw," she responded, bursting out laughing at her joke, as her eyes dropped to my nether regions which the sheet was not hiding too well, the humour not lost on me either."

"Did I measure up?" I joked back.

"Don't know yet. You were completely out of it when I helped you back to my room," she informed me.

"Where's Neha?"

"You mean Na," she smiled back at me. "No idea and don't care. Now what's it to be, breakfast or me?"

The stance she took up with her hands on her hips and her firm, little pointy brown tits sticking out at me, made it crystal clear what she was offering.

I did eventually enjoy my breakfast, but not, and you will understand why, till at least four or five hours later.

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The following week or so was incredible. I did manage to meet up with Neha and even managed to spend the last couple of nights with her, though the sex, and there was a lot of it, simply merged into the week of debauchery that I enjoyed.

Eventually my excuse to stay there ran its course, and I was obliged to leave India and return to the UK, vowing that I would return soon. Telling Neha that I'd be back to claim her.

However other opportunities presented themselves in the form of a girl from my past, and I never did go back, and never did see the lovely Neha again!

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Seven years later, with India and Africa for that matter just a memory, even if a vivid one, found me running not just two but three successful businesses. A medium sized manufacturing company that fitted in with our profile coming available, and being added to our stable. The new business being based in Belgium and introduced through a close family connection there, now enables me jokingly to describe our business as a multi-national.

That and the fact that I was very happily married to a wonderful, somewhat younger woman, and due to become a daddy again shortly, left me a very contented man. My days of violence now well in the past, there did remain one difficult decision to be made in about one month's time, give or take a week or so.

The decision was what to call the baby boy we were expecting, Mike after me, or Jean Paul after my wife's father?

Either way he would be joining his delightful two year old sister who we'd named Florence, and that of course was after her mother.

And with that I do hope I've left enough clues there for you, the readers, to work out just how my story came to such a happy and thoroughly satisfying ending, me at last with a truly loving wife. A wife who still delighted in telling all and sundry how her husband would always be her hero, and how he'd once saved her from an awful fate. Maybe one day I'll embarrass her, as she embarrasses me, by giving someone the full details!

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Hope I haven't ruffled any feathers with our Indian sub continent friends with the Mumbai scene, but I was there not that long ago and I did hear some pretty amazing rumours. Apart from loving my time in India, I was amazed at quite how beautiful so many of the young women there were, and the one character based on someone real was Neha, though I'm not even sure if I've spelt her name correctly. She was an assistant manager in one of the hotels we stayed in, and even my wife, who keeps me well in check I should add, agreed that she was truly exceptionally beautiful, like a perfectly formed porcelain doll, the details almost too perfect in fact to be possible. Sorry, but I haven't got any photos to share with you.

I should add as well, that what my Neha got up to was pure fantasy, and I'm sure that the real one is a good girl.