This story is a fantasy, and my first experiment in writing in the third person. Please leave feedback and if you like it I will publish part two
As the doorman opened the cab door she felt his gaze sweep from her 4-inch heels up her ankles, calves and to her well-toned thighs. She saw him catch himself and immediately shift his eyes to meet hers.
“Good evening, Miss. Welcome to the Grosvenor House Hotel”.
After paying the driver she walked the few steps to the door of the hotel which was opened for her by the same scurrying doorman. He was in his thirties, tall with short, dark, neat hair and broad-chested. He smiled and she smiled back. She knew without looking back that his eyes would follow her across the lobby, mentally undressing her the whole way, but she didn’t mind; she had become used to the admiring and sometimes overtly lustful looks that her recently-found confidence attracted from men – and even from women. And this evening’s outfit was more daring than usual owing to the explicit instructions she had received in advance. The heels were a little higher than she was accustomed to but she loved the way they elongated her legs. The black stockings were almost part of her regular uniform but the suspender belt holding them up was a sexy new addition to her wardrobe. The short ,tight black skirt barely concealed the lacy stocking tops, and she wondered for a moment if the doorman had got a flash of creamy thigh as he opened the cab door. The thought gave her a tingle as she wondered if he was getting aroused watching her cross the lobby. She hoped he was – her own panties were already soaked at the prospect of tonight’s meeting. Her long black woollen overcoat reached down as far as her knees and was buttoned up from her waist to her neck. Underneath she wore a tight black bustier that showed off her ample cleavage and black lace bra to match the wet silk and lace panties. She felt sexy and powerful – almost predatory - as she strode purposefully across the lobby and up the stairs to the bar.
Pausing in the doorway she did a quick scan; eight customers, so very quiet even for a Tuesday night. A middle-aged couple in one corner, obviously dressed for the theatre or opera, a group of five fifty-something businessmen engaged in deep discussion and a lone guy perched awkwardly on a chrome and leather stool at the bar with a glass of champagne and a newspaper. She glanced at her watch – she still had twenty minutes, which was good as George liked her to be punctual. She turned around and headed to the ladies room.
Once inside the stall she stepped out of her panties and placed them in her small handbag. She allowed her fingers to stray between her legs – she loved the feeling of her freshly waxed pussy; the smooth skin around her pussy lips was so sensitive to her touch and she really hoped her client was in the mood to eat her. To be fair to him he usually was if she had given him what he wanted. After she had slowly and sensuously sucked his cock and brought him to a shuddering eruption in her mouth he would spend ages between her thighs teasing her with his fingers and his tongue and giving her as many orgasms as she could stand until he was hard enough to fuck her. And sometimes that would take quite a while. As her fingers slipped between her lips she was suddenly breathlessly aware how horny she was, how ready for what tonight would bring. She sat on the loo seat and rubbed her clit for a few moments.
She thought about the first time she had done this, and how nervous she had felt. She had felt so bad before meeting him she wanted to throw up and run away, but somehow she had resisted the urge. She remembered how stiffly and reluctantly she had undressed, and how she could barely stand to touch him. But she had thought of the wad of money in her handbag – more cash than she had ever held – and had sucked him with her eyes closed pretending he was someone else. And when he came she had swallowed it all, trying not to gag, and he had told her how good she was and how he would like to see her next time he was in town. Then he pulled a robe on and asked her if she would like a drink before she left and she felt elated that her ordeal was over. As she had walked to the lift she thought about what she had just done – she had gone to a stranger’s hotel room and he had paid her more than a month’s wages to give him a blowjob. And she loved to give blowjobs anyway. But he had paid her to do it and it hadn’t been as bad as she had thought – in fact she had enjoyed being on her knees in front of him while he watched her. She realised it made her feel slutty and dirty, but at the same time powerful and…dare she even think it…very horny. She had also realised at that moment that she was soaking wet and needed relief. She had walked out of the lift, found the nearest ladies room and once in the stall she had fingered herself to an urgent and amazing orgasm in just a few moments, her fingers strumming her clit as she thought about her client exploding in her mouth.
She had given her second client a blowjob too, but instead of coming in her skilled mouth he wanted her to ride his huge cock and she had her own powerful orgasm on his cock before he pushed her to her knees so he could force himself deep into her throat to come. Her breakthrough moment came with her third client when he had asked her to touch herself while sucking him. She had been so reluctant at first because she had never masturbated with anyone else watching, but he had told her in graphic detail what he wanted her to do – where to touch herself and how – and how turned on he was watching her that she had started to enjoy herself. And then, more than just enjoyment, she realised she could make herself come almost at will with a cock in her mouth, and in doing so make him come too from the sexiness and naughtiness of what she was doing. She found this worked on every client and she used her new-found skill to establish a small, discrete and very lucrative client base of wealthy international businessmen who would request only her whenever they were in London as they were so turned on by her sexy and very naughty performances. She typically serviced one or two clients each month and was starting to put aside a very nice little secret nest-egg. She had kept her job of course – it was a great cover and meant she didn’t have to explain her monthly trips to London to her husband as anything other than training courses.
So back in the moment, in the plush bathroom of the deluxe hotel, she felt the first waves of her orgasm approaching. She idly wondered if she should be doing this before meeting him, but then her own hunger took over and she braced herself as her furious fingers tipped her over the edge. Once her breathing had returned to normal she put her long coat back on and fastened it almost to the top. She then stepped out of the cubicle, washed her hands and adjusted her make-up. Extra lip gloss and a little dab of perfume at the base of her neck, then a quick brush of her long ebony hair and she was ready.
Sashaying confidently, she walked to the bar and ordered a glass of champagne from the barman. As she perched on the edge of her stool she felt her phone vibrating so she removed it from her pocket. Two new text messages – good. She imagined the first would be from the agency to say that her payment had been received by credit card and that it had been paid to her account as usual, and the second would be from her client with a room number. She took a sip of the cold bubbles and opened the first message. As she had expected her account had received a sizable credit. The second message took her by surprise. Another from her agency:
“Client cancelled. Sends apologies. Realises and accepts full cancellation charge as I explained you are already there waiting for him. Guess you have a free night!
Of course cancellations did happen, but usually with a bit more notice; a last minute meeting or an unexpected drop-in by the wife usually . Disappointing but certainly not a problem – she loved being paid for giving nice men a great night, but she could happily accept being paid not
to! Still, she was a little disappointed not to be getting a good pounding from George tonight – he was one of her favourites.
She turned to see the lone guy at the bar looking at her over his Evening Standard. He continued, not waiting for her to reply.
“Not bad news I hope, only you looked a little disappointed while you were looking at your phone, and I thought….well, I wondered….”.
His voice trailed off, not sounding too sure what he had thought or wondered.
“Hi” she said, turning to face him. “Thanks for asking but I am fine. I was supposed to meet a friend but she just cancelled. No big deal”.
She smiled a reassuring smile and picked up her glass again, taking a dainty sip and feeling the bubbles sooth her disappointment. He lowered folded his paper and she saw her was wearing a smart business suit and sober tie with a crisp white shirt with silver cufflinks. He was in his forties, tall, clean shaven, with neatly cut red hair and light blue eyes. His wedding ring was white gold or perhaps platinum and his expensive watch was well-worn.
He wore a confident smile.
“I’m Phil – pleased to meet you” and he extended a hand.
“Call me Serena” she said “Pleased to meet you too. So what brings you here tonight? Business or pleasure?”.
He smiled slyly.
“Well. Believe it or not, I have been sort of stood up too. I was supposed to meet someone here tonight but she cancelled earlier today. Something came up, apparently, but I came anyway”.
Serena knew straight away what was going on.
“So, meeting a woman, but not your wife, in a London hotel? Sounds very dodgy to me. Tell me, Phil, were you planning on being a bad boy tonight?”
She grinned as she watched him blush. She enjoyed toying with men.
“I guess you would have to define the word “bad” for me, Serena” he squirmed, suddenly a little less confident.
Serena leaned in conspiratorially and whispered.
“It’s ok to be a bad boy. Some of my favourite people are bad boys. Besides, I know how frustrated some married men can get sleeping with the same woman, particularly if they don’t get all of their…. How should I put this? Their itches scratched”.
She sipped her champagne and he watched the way her elegantly manicured nails caressed the champagne flute as she brought it to her full, red lips. He wondered if this gorgeous young woman was really flirting with him. He was suddenly a little out of his comfort zone so he tried to change the subject.
“Nothing like that, Serena! Nothing like that at all. So….err…what do you do?”
“See if you can guess” she smiled, and wondered if the evening might take an interesting turn.
“Well, let me see” he said pushing himself back to get an overall view of her. “You are very pretty, your hair is obviously expensively done, your make up is perfect. I see you are wearing a very expensive overcoat, and those stilettos must have cost a fortune. You carry yourself very elegantly. I would have to guess either you run your own business or maybe you are an underwear model?”
They both laughed, him at his clumsy attempt at flattery and her at the near-miss.
“Wow – some guess! Well you are close…”
“Close on which part? The business of your own or the underwear model?”
She leaned in towards him and rested her hand gently on his forearm.
“On both parts actually. I work for myself and
I get to wear lots of sexy underwear”.
She brushed her skirt a little way up her thigh to reveal just a hint of the lace top of her stockings.
“See? I make my own dress-code”.
Phil was taken aback by the sight of Serena’s sexy stockings. She had amazing legs and he was feeling just a little aroused by the naughty glint in her eye.
“Yes. I would stick to that look if I were you – it looks amazing on you. You’ve certainly got the legs for it. But I am still not sure what you do, though…”
“I’ll tell you what “she said “why don’t you buy me another glass of champagne and we will take turns asking questions? Let’s go to the couch over there.”
With that she picked up her handbag and set off, confident that he would follow her.
She slipped her coat from her shoulders, bent unnecessarily from the waist to lay it on the arm of the couch giving Phil an amazing view of her delicious bum, then sat down gracefully. Serena watched his face as he gazed longingly at her body, caressing it with his eyes. Taking a slow sip from her fresh glass she eyed him up and down as he sat next to her on the couch. She turned her hips towards him and crossed her legs deliberately, knowing that he would catch a glimpse of her bare thighs. Suddenly she remembered she was wearing no panties as per George’s very specific instructions.
She blushed instinctively but gathered herself quickly.
“OK. My turn” she grinned.
Phil expected a bland question about what he did but was shocked when Serena asked,
“So what were you going to do with the woman you were supposed to meet? Were you going to take her to dinner first, or did you plan on fucking her straight away?”
To be continued...
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com
with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/masturbation/the-unexpected-client.aspx">The unexpected client</a>