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Her release was still his to give, when he chose. She heard another clink of ice.She felt him shift his position so that he was settled between her thighs, his elbows pushing gently against her. With one hand he pulled the thong tightly against her clit again and moved it back and forth to tease her. With his other hand he held the ice chip. He ran the chip up one side and down the other, briefly touching her hot, swollen clit, and then repeating the motion. Just when she thought she would cum just from this touch, he stopped. She whimpered with need. The ice dripped over her clit - her thong was hot and cold in turns - hot from her juices, cold from the ice. She heard him sigh and then inhale deeply."I love the smell of you. You have a wonderful mustiness that drives me crazy. This thong is in the way now, so off it must come!" He got to his feet and walked across the room to his bag. She could hear him rummaging through it and heard his satisfied grunt. "Ah, just what I needed," he. “John, Hi it’s Doug ... yes at No10 these days ... yes fine thanks...”The conversation rolled on. John would check it out and get back, but it had to be within and hour Doug told John Pienass a well established political reporter.Reports filed, appointments made, firearm practice, programme established and getting worried, Doug took a cab to an address he’d found most useful. His phone burbled in the cab and to answer, he paid off the cab and strolled through Green Park having recognised the caller code, needing ultra discretion.“Hi John ... yes it’s got to be done, you know how she is ... OK but ... hang on she wants ... what ... for fucks sake she doesn’t ask much - but somebodies got to do it ... yes and that’s me ... well tough life you know. Yes I can do that but if you must I can sort that too, she does like you ... I’ll text you the address ... yes ... Ciao, got to go - meeting her.”He flagged another cab.The disguise had worked she told him, scampering into the dingy flat in.
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