The studio was empty. Puzzled I entered and then realised that there was a door open. The voices came from there but then it went quiet. I thought tha... the door opened to a storage cupboard. I had no reason to look into it before. I eased myself across the studio so that I could see in to the door. The girl that I had followed was facing me, eyes closed and George was on his knees in front of her, his head rising and falling, not in a way that you would expect if he were licking her pussy, more. "It was my pleasure to be of service," he said with a grin, pitching his voice to sound playfully formal. "Here is my card." He presented her with his calling card, not his business card. A business card seems to obligate reciprocation, establishing some kind of quid pro quo between the person giving and the person receiving it. His calling card had his personal information, elegantly engraved, as an offering of trust to her, nothing expected in return."Mr. Franklin, it is nice to meet you, but. More

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