I roll over and over. I tumble and fall. I wake with a shock. My head hurts. I am lying on the floor.

Disorientated, I take in my surroundings. Everything seems very familiar. I realize I have fallen out of bed. Looking at the clock on the bedside shows me it is time to get up.

I arrive at work fed, washed and dressed. The morning passes in a pleasant enough fashion. A little before lunchtime I get a phone message.

‘Hi on my way to the airport don’t forget the phone call. Rose x,’ I read.

I make a mental note to do this when I get back from my break. A second message arrives.

‘Hello, everything good just missing you not spying on you, Jen xx,’ I read more than once.

Lunch break over and back at my desk I send replies to both Rose and Jen. There remains one phone call to make but not until after 14:00. There is plenty of administrative work to keep me busy. So much so, that it is 14:30 before I get round to calling the number on my little piece of paper.

I make the call. A voice answers, “Hello, who is this, please?”

“Hi,” I say, “is that Louise?”

“Ah hello, thanks for calling back,” I hear Louise say.

“No problem,” I tell her.

“You have changed your phone number. That is why I did not recognize you until you spoke,” Louise explains.

“Yes,” I say, “yesterday I called on a friend's phone.”

“Of course,” she says. “Rose.”

I cannot help but wonder how she knows this.

“So,” she continues, “I guess we should meet and then we can talk about you having this phone number.”

“Okay,” I reply, “care to tell me where you have in mind?”

“This evening.” She asks, “Are you busy?”

“Not especially,” I reply.

“Good, can I phone you at six?” she replies. “I can send a driver when you confirm your availability.”

Taken aback somewhat, I say to Louise, “This is all very cloak-and-dagger sounding.”

“Sorry about that,” she replies. “Hopefully, your mind can be put at ease later. I look forward to meeting you.”

That said, she terminates the call before I have a chance to reply. I continue to reflect on this conversation during the rest of the afternoon.

I am home, showered and fed. 6:00 p.m has arrived. Punctually the phone rings out as if in distress.

“Hello,” I say, “is that Louise?” I immediately think that I might sound overly expectant and anxious. I resolve to be more thoughtful during the rest of the night.

“Yes, it is,” she informs me. “Are you able to see me this evening?”

“I am,” I say. “You make this seem so intriguing I have cleared the decks for you.”

I decide that such forthrightness is a strength, not a weakness.

“I do appreciate that the car will be with you in ten minutes,” she tells me, “or is that too soon?”

“Ten minutes is fine,” I reply before asking, “Will the driver ring the doorbell?”

“Of course; they are discreet, not Uber drivers,” Louise says to me.

The doorbell rings. I exit to be greeted by a discreet giant dressed in black.

“Louise sent you?” I ask him.

“Yes, sir. Louise gave instructions for your conveyance,” he says, politely gesturing to a black limousine at the curbside.

We climb inside. The car sets off. I appreciate the quality and luxury of the vehicle.

“Help yourself to refreshments and amenities as you will,” the driver politely intones over the intercom.

“Thank you,” I reply. “How long is the journey?”

“We should arrive within half an hour, sir,” the driver replies reassuringly.

The smooth motor pulls up and stops outside an anonymous gray office block.

“This is your destination,” the driver informs me. “Press the entry buzzer for access to the building.”

“Thank you,” I say to the driver before proceeding to the doorway and following his instructions. I enter the building. As promised, the concierge greets me. He directs me to the elevator before informing me to go to Floor 6, Suite 4. I do this. Alighted from the lift I follow discreet signs to Suite 4. I press an intercom at the doorway and a voice I recognize as Louise's bids me enter.

I walk through a small vestibule and go into a large open plan space. It looks almost like a hotel. Everything has a look of quality.

My eyes focus on Louise as I say, “I do appreciate quality.”

“You are looking at me when you say that,” she laughs impudently.

She is wearing a short white housecoat. Her desirable curves are evident through it. Her long black hair is cut neatly and has a floating effect.

“Shall we have a drink and move past the pleasantries?” she asks in a very straightforward way.

I see bottles of wine, both red and white, on a tidy counter.

“That seems pretty reasonable,” I say in reply.

I take a seat opposite her. I look towards her and smile reassuringly. Louise rises showing her body to full effect. I like the way she moves when she walks over to the wine. Having already noted the labels on the bottles, I wait for her to speak.

“It has to be white when it’s Californian for me,” I reply to her question.

Louise quickly opens a bottle and carries it to the low table between us.

I stand up and ask her, “Where are the glasses; can I fetch them?”

I begin to wonder how it would feel to hold her close.

She directs me to the glasses. I collect them and pour the wine, almost like a waiter.

Louise settles into the sofa she occupies. Her legs, drawn up onto the cushions, look tempting and smooth. I wonder just how hairless the rest of her is.

“I came about the phone number,” I state.

“You did,” she muses. “The girl who gave you that number will be here later.”

“So what’s the deal here, the apartment, the car?” I ask further.

“We work for a giant corporation,” she says in explanation. “These things are perks, if you like.”

“And?” I ask.

“Later,” she says with a purpose. “For now, let us entertain ourselves.”

Raising my glass, I say to her, “To later.”

Louise joins in the toast. We begin chatting. The conversation flows smoothly. Although we started talking about the weather, talk turns to more personal things. She describes her sexuality as heterosexually voyeuristic. I challenge this, saying she appears dominant and exhibitionist.

“What makes you think I am exhibitionist?” she demands to know.

Giving her my most charming smile, I reply, “That housecoat you are wearing exhibits your body in a most revealing way.”

“Yes, but that’s indoors with someone I know,” she retorts as though she has won the argument.

“Walk to the end of the street dressed as you are if you want me to stay,” I say, licking my lips.

“That’s blackmail,” she hisses.

“Or an invitation,” I say.

“You are good at reading people,” Louise concedes.

“Are you admitting to exhibitionist tendencies?” I ask.

“Yes,” Louise replies.

“How extensive are these tendencies?” I ask, continuing to probe.

“I love to get primitive,” she says in explanation.

“Tell me more,” I say encouragingly.

“I will share one experience,” she says, “purely for illustration.”

“Please do,” I reply.

I can sense that she is a little sexually aroused. This excites me. We are entertaining each other.

“This one time, I went out. I wanted to show my nakedness to strangers. I wore a light overcoat but nothing underneath it. I strolled along a canal bank. The coat was unfastened and open. I liked seeing males get hot noticing me. I felt unrestricted as I walked. My cunt was wet. I felt the juices on my leg. I wanted to ask someone to lick it off, I felt so fucking horny. I reached a small bridge where the view was gorgeous. The air was fragrant. I could hear nature. Leaning against the wall my coat was fully open. My hands were soon on my pussy. I quickly rubbed and fingered myself. I sank to my knees with the strength of my orgasm. I squatted and panted for some time. I came back to earth beneath the gaze of a stranger. I stood up and asked if he liked cunnilingus.”

Louise pauses to drink her wine. I see how hard her nipples have become.

“That’s me,” she continues. “Tell me a horny tale.”

“I’m not sure what would be the tale for you,” I say stalling for time.

“What happened with Rose when you went for a drive?” Louise asks.

I ask myself how she could know this. l wonder what kind of conspiracy is going on. Ignoring my desire to find out, I smile at Louise. I tell her about Rose masturbating in the car. When I say the doors were locked, Louise makes pelvic movements.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Louise says feeling her tits.

“Next, she opens the door,” I say continuing the story.

“Uhh, naked and dripping,” Louise says quietly.

“Rose walks to the front of the car,” I explain, “huge tits bouncing, and she lays down on the bonnet.”

Louise is caressing her clitoris. The housecoat lies open exposing her curvy body. I look at her and want to fuck her.

“She parts her legs. Her hand feels all over her crotch and ass. I can see the tightness in the back of her legs,” I say to Louise.

“Her hands meet to part her round ass cheeks,” I continue. “Rose introduces a fingertip to her sweet asshole. Circular motions produce moans of pleasure from her.

“The woman on the car is fingering her ass, Fucking herself violently. She shouts out, 'Fuck me deep! Fuck me hard!'” I tell Louise.

“I almost run over,” I say. “My prick is hard and rises up and down at her entrance. Her passage is slimy and gaping. My thick cock slides in easily,” I say looking at Louise.

I imagine it is her I am fucking and feel my sperm rising from my balls.

“Oh lord, I am fucking cumming,” Louise cries out as her neck arches backward.