Lela Martin was riding the young man's strong brown cock. Her lush golden buttocks kept bouncing up and down with full force on the erect penis and her juices covered the thick shaft all the way down to his balls. Her mind however, was working on a serious task. After the Brander had been disposed off, her father had laid out a plan of action:
I think I know who we are up against! There is an organisation that exists that almost no one knows about. Powerful people that are running this world in secrecy, or they are at least trying to. I have beefed up the security around our labs and production line. There is only a matter of time before this organisation will discover the location of them and then they will try to attack and do their best to get to the Nexus. John Martin went over to the big glass cabinet where he kept his finest brandy's and selected a bottle. He then joined his children. So who are we up against here? The Illuminati? Bill Gates, Elon Musk? Who? Leif scrutinized his father while sipping a cup of ginger tea. John Martin smiled. No, like I said. This particular people are hidden. But they do have a name! The Bilderberg Group, John Martin answered drily. Lela stood up and laughed. Dad, are you serious? John Martin sighed and filled his cognac glass from the beautiful caraffel with the Frapin Cognac XO Chateau de Fontpinot. The colour was honey. He then lit a Lucky Strike and slowly exhaled small clouds of smoke. I am afraid so Lela. On Parysh Tambein's hand on the hotel roof top that night I was abducted - I recognised a ring. It depicts a snake eating it's own tale. I have seen this ring on the fingers of several world leaders, politicians and businessmen many times, the last forty years. It is a Bilderberg token. Leif shook his head in disbelif. They all wear this ring. That's stupid. John Martin nooded. Perhaps, but I know they do. But how do you know it's not just a simple ring that perhaps were given as a gift or whatever? Really dad? I think you are loosing your marbles a bit here. Her father looked at Lela. She knew that look. She had first seen it when she was a young teenager and her father had entered her room while she was having sex with a classmate. It was a look that could silence world leaders. His voice was dark. I know because I was one of them! I was approached while I was making my first millions smuggeling heroin. They made me an offer I could not refuse. Leif was pacing the room. And you never bothered to tell us any of this. You probably want our help now too? Leif was furious. His father slammed his fist down on the glass table with force. Sit down you fool and listen. The willpower of the two men vibrated through the room. Lela ignored the tension and asked. So when did you leave the Bildenbergs? Her father relaxed and looked at his daughter. She had always been like this, he thought. Even when she was a little girl. Straight to the point. Not easily blindsighted by her own emotions. I left the group fifteen years ago. They started to lean too heavy on my personal affairs. I decided to buy my way out. How did you do that? Leif snapped at his father. I aided a military coup. Jesus dad! You are fucking something. John Martin nodded at his son. Yes I am. Now, listen to me Lela. I need you to track Parysh Tambein. Then when you find him, get a hold of his cell phone, laptop or whatever you can. Follow him, wiretap him. See where it leads you and keep me posted. You decide how to go about this Lela. Tambein will lead you further down the rabbit hole and unless I am "loosing my marbles" as you so neatly put it, you will encounter a very powerful woman. She is the leader of The Bildenbergs. When you do, give me an update. He turned his attention to his son. Leif, I need you to locate a certain hacker for me. He owns a big yacht. It's probably somewhere in caribbean ocean. His name is Raymond Chavalier. I suspect he is the one that will try to hijack the Nexus. Remember. The clock is ticking. We need this sorted fast!
Lela's attention returned when the young man suddenly exploded inside her vagina. She smiled at him and kissed his lips. The man was an arab. One of Parysh Tambein's men. She had picked up his trail two days after the conversation with her father and had picked him up at the Blue Flames bar in Paris. It had been easy. The small hotel they were in was owned by her father. Lela massaged his cock further and finally squeesed the last drops out of his penis Then she continued to suck the head until he was hard again. She then, slammed her pussy down on the throbbing cock and started to ride him harder. He was not pretty but she did not give a shit. He had a good cock. The man was moaning now as she continued to pulverise his cock. Then, she went even harder. Her wet vagina met the erect penis so hard that the bed started to give in. They locked into the magic sexual rythym that men and women had enjoyed since the beginning of the age of man. She could feel him coming again and then finally let herself go. The hurricane of her juices errupted from inside of her and the pussy juice was as hot as lava. Minutes after when she had recovered, the man rose from the bed and started to move towards the bathroom. It was the last move he ever made. The smoke from the small revolver was still in the air when her cleaning crew arrived. The two men were dressed as hotel staff and quickly removed the blood on the floor rolled up the dead body in a carpet and started to whipe the room down as Lela was already dressed and left the room with the man's smart phone in her hands. She then met another woman in the elevator that unlocked the smart phone in seconds, and by the time Lela was walking out towards her Porsche parked under the hotel, she was reading the dead man's emails and sms's. She quickly went throught it all while smoking a joint of weed in her car. One particular message stood out. It read: Meeting at Maison de Maître Friday 2 of june, 1800! Lela googled the address. Situated just 10 minutes from the market town of Orthez, this Bilderberg meeting was in only two days. Lela did some more digging and sure enough. The property was owned by a certain Raymond Chavalier. I guess I have a date she said, then flicked the cigarette out of the window and her foot hit the gas pedal with force.