I made arrangements to buy a new gray crew cab F250 tradesman pickup with an eight cylinder engine and a reserve gas tank. I made just over sixty five...thou a year. I realized that it was going to screw up my budget but I needed wheels, and their big V8s had a very good reputation. They had one on the lot and I needed a ride fast, so they put a rush on doing the final prep. Thankfully they agreed to dispose of the Crown Vic for a hundred bucks. I appreciated it as I didn't need the extra hassle. They were essentially mercenaries. A man with expendable means would hold the debt and pay the cost of finding the truant. When the person was found, he was responsible — in one form or another — the entire amount of pursuing collection, plus costs, fees and penalties. It was the same system Citicorp and your local bank used if you defaulted on your credit cards or a car loan. But the people in my world were a lot less scrupulous about the way they found you and extracted the money."We've made. They had brought no swimwear so the men just stripped to their boxers and Emma to her bra and sexy shorts. She looked stunning as she stretched to take off her top and all three of the guys couldn’t resist staring. John grabbed some beers from the cooler and handed them out, then they all ran to the lake a jumped in. The water was cool and refreshing, a welcome treat for them all. About an hour passed by with some splashing and joking. One of the guys would regularly get out and retrieve more. I laughed and gasped as I trailed it down, around the nub of my clit and down my pussy lip. I was teasing the fuck out of myself, making myself want it so much. I trailed it back up my other lip, bringing with it a wet, slick tip. I groaned and let my head fall back with a thud onto the stall door. Breathless, I let the tiny but powerful vibe sit at the top of my clit, the rumbling sensation filtering down my nerve endings and making my eager pearl nearly quiver with need. My dripping cunt.