Mr. Kamp will do the interview.

“I don’t know where Mrs. Kamp is at the moment; perhaps she is off with her instructor Iglesias riding bareback… on one of her horses. She could also be with that other instructor Kenneth, learning how to perform her backswing. Still, she might be with Ronald, her swimming instructor.”

“I see…,” Nancy says with a nervous chuckle, “then I presume we will be doing the interview with you Richard?”

“Ah, yes my dear… if that is quite alright with you?” Mr. Kamp asks placing his hand on her thigh.

“Why certainly,” she answers placing her hand over top of his, “I’ve found it’s always beneficial to interview all members involved. You never know when someone might remember a vital clue others have forgotten. Plus it would be an honor to spend some time with the renowned Mr. Kamp.”

“Oh Miss Drew, you’re too kind.”

“Well then,” Nancy reaches into her bag, pulls out a tape recorder, notepad and pen, “the tape recorder is strictly for posterity purposes only.”
You also produce a notebook and pen from your pants pocket, ready to watch Miss Drew work her magic.

Mr. Kamp leans over picking up a bell and ringing it.

You nearly jump out of your seat as a young French girl appears from around the corner dressed in a ridiculous maid outfit. It looks like something out an adult magazine, consisting of a strapless corset that hardly does justice of covering her body. Her large breasts are set high upon her chest, budging furiously against the wireframe cups, doing their best to be liberated. The lacy ruffled bottom leaves little to the imagination as her succulent ass hangs out invitingly while the micro g-string thong front makes a very modest attempt at masking her feminine wiles. Fish net stockings clad her sexy taut legs as she gracefully walks in wearing three inch heels. Her auburn hair is fixed up and loose, letting small strands cascade over her face, framing it elegantly.

“Oui le pa…,” the girl starts, looks around, and finishes, “Monsieur Kamp?”

“Un autre Martini, Sophia.” Mr. Kamp gestures holding out his glass.

“Oui Monsieur Kamp. N'importe quoi d'autre monsieur?” Sophia bows taking Mr. Kamp’s glass.

“Un plateau de touche la nourriture.” Mr. Kamp says before turning to Nancy. “Would you like anything to drink dear?”

“Un verre d'eau serait beau, s'il vous plait.” Nancy tells the maid in perfect French.

“Étinceler a embouteillé ou tape de l'eau?” Sophia questions.

“A embouteillé de l'eau serait grande.” Answers Nancy.

“Certainement.” Sophia agrees.

“Merci.”

“Et pour vous monsieur...?” Sophia asks staring intently at you through her emerald green eyes.

You chuckle half heartedly feeling like an idiot, “I have no idea what you just said, sorry.”

“Monsieur Doe. Désolé, il ne comprend pas le Français.” Nancy intervenes.

“Attendre, Monsieur John Doe. LE John Doe qui écrit pour le journal?” Sophia questions excitedly.

“Oui. Vous le savez?” Nancy questions.

“Oui. Ses histoires sont stupéfiantes. Le sien poste par semaine appelé ‹ Qu'une Fille Veut ›, Il m'obtient si excité...” Sophia blushes, glancing over in your direction before staring to the ground.

“Vous lisez le papier?”

“Non, Emma le lit pour moi.” Sophia answers Nancy.

“Assez de Sophia!” Mr. Kamp interrupts.

“Je suis Monsieur Kamp très désolé.” Sophia languishes.

“Si, n'importe quoi boire, Monsieur Doe?” Sophia asks you dispiritedly.

“She asked what you wanted to drink again.” Nancy translates.

“A Mountain Dew?” You inquire.

Sophia giggles, flashing you a beautiful smile, “Moun- tain Dew?”

“C'est un produit de Pepsi. Avez-vous n'importe quel?” Nancy questions.

“Oui, bien sûr. Son Summer’s préféré.” Sophia answers before adding, “S'il n'y aura rien d'autre…”

“Oh, et Sophia, m'amener mon coupeur de cigare et le briquet, je le suis parti dans la bibliothèque.” Mr. Kamp responds.

“Oui Monsieur Kamp.”

“Cela sera tout Sophia.”

“Comme vous souhaitez monsieur.” Sophia looks over in your direction one last time smiling radiantly and winks at you.

What the hell was that all about you wonder to yourself. Its times like these you wish you at least understood French. You watch as each step makes her ass tremble ever so lightly.

“My, my… there is definitely more to you than meets the eyes, isn’t there Miss Drew?” Mr. Kamp expresses squeezing her upper thigh openly. “If there wasn’t a Mrs. Kamp…”

More like if you weren’t in the room he would be all over her, probably with his cock halfway up her ass by now. God, you hated this Mr. Kamp. You literally felt nauseous just being around him.