It's the middle of August, and Gupta's cricket team is at the end of its tour, with the last game being played at Northampton County Cricket Ground. In June, he had introduced me to the players at their first game, informing them that I would be theirs if they performed well during the tour. Nineteen pairs of young, hungry eyes devoured my sexily clad body—promises of things to come.

And I can't believe that after nearly ten years of 'consulting' and countless other encounters, I am still getting excited by sex. At thirty-seven, I looked at those young guys, who could only be in their late teens or early twenties, with avarice. It will make a nice change to the middle-aged or elderly businessmen who make up most of my daily grind! Here's hoping they have a good tour!

Colin had approved this private arrangement between Gupta, me, and Parinda. It was Parinda's idea to have me entertain Gupta's cricket team. I'm pleased to say that an idea that also got her into trouble, as she reminds me in graphic detail of our adventure at the 'Da Vinci Club' as we ride together in the back of her Bentley to Northampton, she seems to have enjoyed it, given the enthusiasm of her retelling.

My outfit for today consists of a short white gym skirt, paired with a tailored white polo-neck T-shirt embroidered with the team's emblem and motto. Underwear is courtesy of a flimsy white cotton bra; it is hardly suitable for playing cricket unless you like bouncers! And the female version of a protective box, known as a manhole cover! All completed with a pair of white plimsolls, no socks.

After arriving at the team hotel, I use the facilities and eat a light snack before Gupta leads me to the team bus and introduces me to the successful players. I will travel with them to Gatwick Airport, a roughly two-and-a-half-hour journey, during which they can sample my delights. The coach is surprisingly cold, the air-con must be working overtime, and my nipples push proudly forward. It is also imposing! Three steps take me up to the passenger cabin; there's a cloakroom to the left, behind which are five rows of double seats. To the right, there are seven rows of seats. All deep, luxurious, and occupied. Beyond them is a lounge area with two tables, chairs, and a small kitchenette with a washroom at the back. Apart from the driver's, the windows are all blacked out.

I stand at the top of the steps as the coach pulls away, marking the start of my journey and wait for the fun to begin. Twenty-one young men stare at me. Where did the extra two come from? I wonder. They started the tour with nineteen players. Never mind.

At last! One of the men walks down the aisle toward me, takes me by the hand, and leads me to the rear of the coach. This encourages the others as they find their courage and reach out to me as I wander past.

Nothing serious, simply gentle stroking of my hips, bum, and legs. On reaching the tables, my guide pushes me against one of them and lays me across it. Someone joins him, and they start running their hands over my body and cupping and caressing my breasts, running over my stomach down to my mound and back up again. Then they begin circling my erect nipples over my clothes, making them grow even more.

Undoing the buttons on my polo shirt and sliding their hands under it and over my cotton-clad breasts, they squeeze and nip at my nipples. More hands join in the fun. Running up my legs, from my ankles, over my knees, to my thighs, and over my hips to my stomach and sweeping back down via my mound, their fingers slip nervously under my covering and down my inner thighs.

Someone's fingers hook around the elastic of my manhole cover, slip it down my legs, and take it off. That didn't offer much protection! My polo shirt gets lifted over my arms and head, quickly followed by my skimpy bra, leaving just my skirt. Not for long, as that, too, gets removed, and I am lying naked on the table. Hands, fingers, and tongues continue their exploration of my naked body, caressing, teasing, nipping, and sucking.

My legs get lifted high in the air and spread apart. The access to my pussy is soon taken advantage of as a mouth engulfs my sex. Sucking at my lips, a tongue explores my wet hole, teeth nibbling at my nub. Young they may be, but they are not without experience. The Kama Sutra was written in India, after all.

Whoever is exploring my pussy stands up and presses his rigid tool against my entrance, slipping it past my defences, to much cheering and encouragement. Sliding his length into me, he keeps still inside me, enjoying the sensation of being the first. Now he starts pumping into me, slowly at first but getting faster and faster as the watching, and indeed still playing crowd, voices encouragement. He ejaculates with quick successive gobs of cum spattering my insides. My tits are still being mauled, painfully so on occasion, as the second cock plunders my hole. Thrusting deeply and with enthusiasm, he cums much quicker than the first lad.

I'm pulled off the table and led down the aisle to the front of the coach, stopping halfway as someone speaks in Gujarati, which is gibberish to me. Then I am pushed over the lap of a lad sitting in the aisle seat and down onto the exposed cock of the lad sitting next to the window. Opening my mouth and swallowing his cock whole, I take it deep into my throat before sliding back up his pole. My lips tighten around his girth, gripping around his bell end and using my tongue to lap around it. Making him cum almost immediately, I open my mouth and let his warm seed dribble and splatter into his lap, much to the amusement of the lad that I am leaning over. The lad holding me pulls me partway up, allowing the one in the aisle seat to release his cock from his trousers, then pushes me down onto my second snack of the day. This lad will not get caught with a lap full of his own juices, as he holds his cock firmly at the back of my mouth when he cums. His warm, salty juices flow smoothly down my throat.

I continue my naked march to the front of the coach, to the top of the steps, where my guide turns me around to face the excited passengers.

He kicks my left foot to the side, up against the cloakroom wall, and my right foot is lifted by the lad in the front seat and placed on his lap, exposing my pussy in all its glory.

Standing behind me, steadying himself with one hand, my guide lifts my arms, one at a time, over my head and encourages me to hold onto the overhead straps. With me now holding myself steady, his now free hands start exploring my body, squeezing and tugging at my breasts, running over my mound and between my legs, over my bum, and between my legs from behind, dipping his fingers into my sodden hole, taking them out, and presenting them to my mouth to be licked clean. I happily oblige.

He carefully releases his cock from his chinos and presses it against my bum. It is a generous size, I feel, as he runs it up and down my bum. He dips it between my legs and runs it along my slit, from back to front. Looking down, I can see it poking from between my legs as he pumps it back and forth. There is a lot of encouragement from his onlooking teammates. I catch the odd phrase in English, like 'fuck her.' So he does, positioning himself carefully. The coach is moving, of course, so balance is critical. Everybody except me can see his cock disappear and then reappear. I can only feel it!

He takes his time, ignoring the calls to 'fuck her', and enjoys the show he is giving. That is, until the coach brakes abruptly, and he slips out at the crucial moment, his cum splattering harmlessly over the floor. And I am thrown forward and only saved by the lad in the front seat, as he grabs me and pulls me on top of him.

Taking full advantage, he sticks his fingers roughly up my open sex before biting at my left nipple, making me squeal in shock. His neighbour quickly admonishes him, getting him to release my now sore nipple. His fingers continue pumping in and out of me. Then he picks me up, turns me around, pushes me over the handrail, and fills my vacant hole with his cock. Like with his fingers, he violently invades my body, crushing my hips against the metal rail as he satisfies his lust. He finishes with an animalistic grunt as he erupts inside of me. As he pulls out of me, I see the traffic-infested road ahead. I hope no one is looking in their rear-view mirror!

Another lad, probably his seatmate, steps behind and enters my dripping hole. His cock rests there awhile while he reaches around my chest and fondles my breasts. That's nice; give the drivers ahead a show! Slowly, he begins fucking me. Oh yes. He is taller than the previous lad, and his cock rubs along my walls at a downward trajectory, running over my G-spot. That is so nice; he's taking his time, too. Well, he was. Faster now, I feel his balls slap against my not-so-little nub, sending electric pangs through it and pushing me to my first orgasm, a gentle rumbling through my loins, but satisfying nonetheless. He adds to my pussy's contents.

There's no respite as someone pulls me up by the shoulders, drags me into the walkway, and pushes me down the steps to stand to one side of the driver, then kicks my legs apart and pulls my arms behind my back, accentuating my stance and displaying me through the clear panoramic windscreen that reaches from floor to roof. The driver is studiously watching the road, and so am I, hoping nobody has an accident because of me. Only a few minutes pass before I get taken back up the steps, time enough for my dripping maw to soak my inner thighs.

There's a lot of chatter as we march to the back of the coach, and I get pushed over the table again, this time face down. A cloth is dragged over my thighs and pussy, drying and cleaning me. I bet that was part of the chatter; it was too messy for some.

Not that I stay dry for long, as three cocks take me in quick succession; two of them have barely entered me when they lose their loads.

I get dragged off the table and stood up; my right leg is lifted onto a lad's shoulder, and my torso is pushed down to the tabletop, opening my wanton hole. The lad shuffles closer and presents his cock to my open sex. Then, in English, he shouts.

"What shall I do?"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," is chanted back. So the lad does just that.

His cock splashes through my cum-filled pussy, splattering the thick sticky juices everywhere as his balls slap against my leg, adding their sound to the melody of squelching fucking.

He's good, maintaining a nice steady and long stroke in and out of my body, teasing at my inner pleasure spot, but that is purely coincidental; he is only after pleasuring himself. As they all are, and as it is my role in life. This life, anyway. He finally ejaculates, holding his cock inside me until it wilts. He lets it slip out of its own accord, followed by a gush of cum that splatters to the floor. Much raucous chanting follows his display.

Another wipe down and clean. Another position bent over in the aisle, a cock in my mouth, hands mauling my tits, and a cock up my pussy. My mouth is full of the cock of a lad sitting by the window. The lad seated next to him is mauling my tits, and I have no idea who is fucking me. But I am being well used. Concentrating on the cock in my mouth, I can't do much about anything else, trying to give him the best I can, licking along his length, gripping tightly with my lips as he runs his length in and out of my mouth. Taking him as deeply as I can, given that the angle is not quite right for getting right down my throat, I still satisfy him as he shoots his load into the back of my mouth. I swallow this time.

Slowly making my way down the coach, I move from one side to the other, from one cock to another. My mouth and pussy are never empty as they all take their turn.

Finally, near the front of the coach, I stand upright and look straight at the grinning driver at the top of the steps. Oh, we must have stopped!

"OK, everyone. It's time to go; gather your belongings. I'll be opening the hold," the driver announced, then looked at me. "Get yourself cleaned up in the washroom; I'll return shortly."

He deserves a go, I muse, walking to the washroom at the back of the coach, passing all my erstwhile lovers on the way.

The washroom is surprisingly well-equipped, except for towels or sponges. Of course, you need to bring your own. Never mind. I can use soapy hands to clean and drip dry! It's an intermittent shower, with only two minutes of water at a time; wait a minute, and it starts again.

Flicking water off my body before leaving the washroom leaves me damp but not dripping too much as I walk back into the coach's main body.

The driver is waiting for me.

"My turn," he grins as he slips his trousers down and off.

"That's a nice cock," I gush.

"Thanks, saving the best till last," he boasts. But he's not wrong; he's at least two inches longer and considerably thicker than anything I've had today.

"Where would you like me?" I coyly ask.

"Everywhere and anywhere," the driver answers as he pulls me against his body, placing his hands on my buttocks and lifting me off the floor. My legs naturally slip around his hips, and he lowers me onto his rampant cock. Inch by inch, he slips my pussy over his manhood until I am fully impaled on his wonderful cock. Turning around with me still stuck on his cock, he sits me on the edge of a table. He starts thrusting into my pussy with me still clinging around his neck, our bodies mashed together.

Good to his word, he moves from one position to another, laying me down on my back across the table, then turning me around to lie chest down. Picking me up again, my back to him, my legs entwined behind his, he carries me to the front of the coach, down the steps, and displays me to a group of leering drivers lined up in front of his coach! Never once has his cock left my pussy. With a feat of incredible athleticism, he proceeds to fuck me in front of his leering colleagues.

I'm not sure if I am embarrassed, appalled, or excited about being displayed and used in this way. Perhaps all three! There's nothing I can do to stop it in any case, so I may as well just enjoy his cock plundering my sex, and it does feel so good as it slips and slides directly over my excited G-spot. Both of us orgasm at nearly the same time. He still holds me in front of him as he lets his wilting cock flop out of my pussy, his cum dripping out of me shortly after. The audience of drivers are cheering and leering at the spectacle.

He puts me down, waves at his audience, turns me around, slaps me on the arse, and says, "Run along and get cleaned up. Nobody wants sloppy seconds."

I glance over my shoulder at him with a look of shock.

"Only joking," he grins. "Off you go. Oh, and there's a towel in the cupboard under the sink."

Nervously leaving the washroom again, I am relieved that only the driver awaits me.

"Your clothes are over there." He points to a table. "I couldn't find your underwear, though."

I quickly get dressed so that I can put on a skirt and a T-shirt slowly.

"Thanks for being a good sport about earlier. It made the guy's day," the driver claims cheerily.

"No problem, you deserved a little fun after putting up with the rest of the journey. Although you worried me when you said no one liked sloppy seconds," I say warily.

"Yeah, sorry about that," he grins.

Glancing up at the CCTV camera, I ask, "Have they been recording?"

"Yes, I can't turn them off. Don't worry, though; they run on a loop and will be overwritten by the time I get back to the depot," the driver replies.

I then ask him where to meet my ride back to the hotel.

Stepping off the coach, he points to the terminal entrance.

"Your car will be waiting at the arrivals exit. Through those doors, turn left, go up the escalator, and follow the signs to the left. It's about a fifteen-minute walk. I need to call him now and let him know you are on your way. Keep out of any draughts, and watch your back on the escalator," he laughs, referring to my lack of underwear.

The Bentley is waiting, with the chauffeur by its side. He opens the door for me, and I demurely keep my knees together and slide in.

Gliding silently out of the terminal and onto the main roads, I relax and enjoy the ride before opening the bag I had left earlier. I pull out my change of clothes, something more suitable for walking into a four-star London hotel, and change in the back of the car. The privacy glass is switched on, hiding me from the chauffeur.

We'll arrive around three o'clock, giving me lots of time to have a nice, long bath, wash my hair, and prepare for this evening's client. He is a sweet old man and a long-term regular; he was one of my first clients. We occasionally have sex, but he is just as happy chatting the night away. He enjoys my company. We are more like friends, friends with benefits.

Alex is in the foyer talking to someone; when he sees me walk in, he breaks off his conversation and approaches me.

"Hello, Sharon. I take it you are well?" he asks politely.

"Yes, thank you. I'm looking forward to a nice, cool bath, though. It is so hot today," I reply.

"Yes, our air-conditioning is working overtime. Come with me; I have something for you," Alex says.

Following him into his office, he walks to the safe. He opens it and pulls out a small package, which he hands me.

"Gupta asked me to give this to you," he informs me.

As we all do, I turn it over in my hands and say, "I wonder what this could be?"

"Open it and find out," is Alex's clichéd answer.

I do, and reveal a beautiful enamel pendant set in gold and on a gold chain. Looking more closely, Kama and Rati, the Hindu gods of love, are entwined in an impossible embrace. It's beautiful.

I hand it to Alex, and his eyes widen in awe. Opening a desk drawer, he grabs a jeweller's eyepiece and looks at the pendant intently.

He hands it back to me after several minutes.

"That's something special. I don't know much about jewellery, but I have acquired some knowledge over the years. According to the hallmarks, that's twenty-four-carat gold, and the enamel is exquisite. It would be best if you got that appraised and insured appropriately," he advises.

Perhaps not; it's a gift, not an investment, and I will treasure it as such.