They were totally empty. There wasn’t even a scrap of paper to give a clue to the owner’s identity. I wrote the car’s registration on the credit...car slip, replaced the torch in the Porsche, hid the ignition keys under the passenger seat, and returned to Julia. “The Porsche looks undamaged, Julia. How fast were you going?”“Very slow. I was drunk, lost, and I didn’t know the road. I swerved to avoid a sheep and then the road wasn’t there. I think the air bag knocked me out. Silly, isn’t it?”“OK.. And long shapely legs that seemed to never end. In other words, a 12/10.She was typing furiously on her phone, probably at some poor bloke who did her wrong. As stunning as she was, I could figure out what she was like, rude, bitchy and thinks the world should fall at her feet. I hated women like these and always thought a good hard fuck would set them straight. Suddenly she received a call and started screaming into the phone like there was no tomorrow. What irked me more than her screaming. More

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