Posted 19 February 2006
From my previous posts you've already learned that some years ago I started wearing my provocative clothing and footwear to work, especially when visiting business clients, and I've also expressed a desire to take this to a new stage. Now that you've seen a number of pictures of me and been acquainted with my undeniably whorish proclivities, you have probably ended up with the impression that I head off to work each day dressed like a complete harlot. So now is perhaps the best time for me to expand on this aspect of my life a little and introduce some much-needed perspective.
Let me say at the outset that now and in the future I am only going to talk in general terms about my work and in particular about my clients. You are not going to get much in the way of detail about the men that I meet, or the businesses that they work for or own. Nor are you going to get specific dates of any meetings. My business diary is a matter of permanent record on our head office computer and for that reason there will be no tie-in between interesting 'encounters' that I relate to my readers and the dates on which they occurred. If I had any common sense (and I haven't any, because this diary is still online) I wouldn't discuss this aspect of my life at all, but I know that this is an area that is of great interest to many readers - a professional consultant who can't resist taking her exhibitionist tendencies into the working environment.
I look after a hundred or so clients in total, mainly in the UK although there are a few abroad. We don't actively promote our services overseas but these foreign accounts have come about from operations that were originally UK resident and have now moved offshore. The amount of time I need to devote to each client varies and there is no particular factor (e.g. company size) which dictates why I see some accounts more than others. Several clients don't even get a visit from me unless they specifically have some requirement that demands my personal assessment. In the main however I see each client at least once per year for a general account appraisal and for the update of our records. If I had to give an average number of visits per client it would be twice per annum.
Apart from situations where a female is handling the account, all clients are game for a bit of prick-teasing as far as I'm concerned. However things don't normally progress beyond the 'sharp dressing' stage unless I'm dealing with someone who will likely be handling matters over at least a couple of years, and this usually means a principal of the business - either the owner, or a board level executive. You've already seen that I'm prepared to use my sexuality to acquire new business (see "The London Meeting") but that was a group presentation to a company we've had dealings with before. At an initial one-to-one meeting with an unfamiliar prospective client I will dress in a fairly businesslike manner but with enough sexual innuendo to make men sit up and notice. The exact mix depends on current fashion trends, but whatever look happens to be the flavour of the season I can usually find a combination that fits my purposes. If I could freely choose any style I wanted it would be a business suit with a very short skirt, but this of course hasn't been the trend of late.
I will invariably wear high heels, and by any normal standards mine are exceptionally high. Over the past five years or so I have never been anywhere while at work where another woman has worn higher heels than me. My preferred heel height is 5 inches, but heights range from 4 inches up to 6 inches. Most women would struggle to walk sensibly in all but my lowest shoes and would barely be able to take a few steps in my highest pairs. As I have explained previously, I have spent hour upon hour learning to walk naturally in skyscraper heels and would recommend to any woman considering emulating me that she doesn't step foot on to the street until she has mastered this vital ability. Apart from a couple of badly made pairs, there are no 5-inch heeled shoes that I have ever bought that I cannot walk comfortably in, and I can usually handle all but a few 5.5s. 6-inch heels are a different proposition altogether and these I normally reserve for private use only. However I have a couple of pairs that for some reason seem like they're lower, and I'm not afraid to wear them in public. Incidentally, I find non-platform 7-inch heels impossible to walk in, though I have two pairs which I wear when posing on video.
I cannot stress enough the importance of being able to walk naturally in killer heels. If you haven't got this part right then you can forget about the rest. When a man sees a woman's feet emerge from a car and he sets eyes on a beautiful pair of high-heeled patent courts, nothing will shatter his fantasies faster than seeing the wearer waddle along the street as if she were wearing stilts. It's interesting that in the UK at the moment 5-inch heels are one of this season's hits, and I have to shake my head in dismay as I see young girls thinking that they somehow look desirable and trendy as they stumble along the pavement with bent legs and their arses sticking out. If only they could see themselves on camera. My advice to any budding prick teaser is to choose the maximum heel height that you can walk sexily and sensibly in. Don't be overly ambitious. And remember that (counterintuitively) the taller you are the higher the heel that you can wear without it being overly noticeable.
At a first meeting I'll still wear suspenders and stockings in the cooler months, but they can't be easily identified. I'll wear a well-lined skirt, preferably with quite thick material, and the stockings won't have seams. If there's one thing that singles me out as being unfashionable it's the fact that my stockings are nearly always black, but I do try to choose colours for my skirts that complement this so that it's not something that strikes onlookers at first glance. If I'm wearing a short skirt I'll usually combine it with a high-necked top, but if skirt lengths are longer (as they are currently) I'll perhaps move attention to my breasts with a lower cut top.
My basic aim when visiting a potential client is to project plenty of sex appeal but avoid any blatant come-ons. I don't want to risk offending the person and also it's important that I don't give the wrong impression to his staff and colleagues, who may have some influence over any decision to do business with us. It's at this first meeting that I'm able to assess how to play things in future. What are the offices like? What is the general demeanour of the employees? How many people will see me come and go? Will we meet in private? And then there's the client himself. Is he obviously attracted to me? Shy? Arrogant? Leering? Does he pay me any compliments? Suggestive comments? What does he like: Legs? Bottom? Breasts? Is he looking at my high heels? Is he tending to study my mouth rather than making eye contact? (a really telling sign of lust). Okay, now cross my legs. Reaction? Hmm, slide forward and let the skirt ride up an inch. Reaction now? Next, suck my pen. Did his eyes widen? Give him a sexy look, like I'm attracted. Did that embarrass him? Did it make his day?
Of course I'm trying to put into words here actions that I don't really consciously tick off on a shopping list. The assessment I make is an overall one, something that I can achieve by spending just twenty minutes or so with a man. After years of studying body language and analysing what is said to me (and the way it's said), that's all I really need to make a pretty sound judgement as to the sort of man I'm dealing with. Once the meeting is over I make meticulous notes while the memory is still fresh in my mind, detailing reactions I observed and my initial impressions of the man.
The second meeting with a client is probably the most important as regards how I progress things in the future. I'll always wear a more provocative pair of shoes, usually 5-inch heeled sandals with a single ankle strap, and my stockings will be seamed (and possibly patterned or fishnet). My skirt will be made of thinner material, perhaps unlined, and it will either be shorter, tighter, or have suggestive styling such as a split or zips which enable me to show more leg. This time my suspenders can be made prominent when I want them to be, and one absolutely certain outcome of the meeting is that by the end of it the client will have clearly seen my garter straps outlined through my skirt.
It's at this meeting where I am usually able to confirm my initial impressions of the individual I'm dealing with and which part of my body interests him most. I should stress that not every man prefers this openly sexier look and if this is the case then I'll immediately call it a day on that client as far as prick-teasing is concerned (I could try to tempt him with a more innocent look, but I get no kick from it). Most clients however show a very positive response to this more suggestive look. They are less relaxed, with more nervous breathing and what I would call 'dancing eyes', interspersed with moments of unconscious staring. I always remain completely calm and seem oblivious to their focus, but I do find these meetings extremely stimulating.
One of the things that a client will usually ask, mostly as a matter of small talk at the start or end of a meeting, is something about my itinerary: So, where are you off to next?, or Busy schedule today?. At that second interview I'm always waiting for a line like this and I'll give the client a slightly coy look, but with a knowing smile, and say something like: Er, actually, you're the only person I'm seeing today. I just love seeing the response to this. The client straightens up and reflexively pushes his chest out. I can almost hear his thoughts:
Jesus, she's only seeing me. She dressed up like that for me. Made herself look hot in suspenders and a tight skirt! She wasn't dressed like that before. Why did she do that? Oh boy, a real looker like that, and she made an effort for ME!
At a third meeting I'll normally try to establish if the client has any fetish or BDSM tendencies, either by wearing leather boots or double ankle strap shoes. A man who dwells on these for much of the meeting (or perversely, who tries not to dwell on them) is often revealing a submissive nature or a boot/shoe/leather fetish and consequently I'll gradually draw it out of him as time goes on.
With 90% of my clients this is as far as things go. When I visit them I try to dress to whatever predilections I feel I have unearthed. I'm a little blatant at times, but mostly just suggestive, and it makes meetings fun - the client looks forward to having a good ogle at Maria, and Maria gets off on dressing up and seeing herself being eyed up and down. Also, unknown to them I'm often wearing extremely unusual underwear. Sometimes I just wear sexy lingerie but more often I'll wear fetish clothing such as a strap bra or zipped leather panties. If I'm in a really hot mood I'll wear a cock harness or maybe some latex briefs with an integral internal dildo. I get a real kick when sitting opposite a client, being totally professional and focused, wondering what he would think if he knew my vagina was fully plugged.
With the remainder of my clients things are little more 'understood', although as you have already been made aware this has never progressed to any sexual activity other than the couple of gropings I've mentioned. These men are clearly aware that I'm pandering to their particular interests and they have correspondingly arranged things so that I have great freedom to accommodate them even further.
Primarily this involves the venue of our meetings being somewhere much more discreet than the central company headquarters. Many large companies have facilities for senior staff which enable them to indulge themselves beyond the gaze of their less fortunate underlings. This may be a corporate suite at a well-known football [soccer] club, a private country estate, a London flat, or even a sizeable moored yacht. Before your mind gets carried away, let me emphasise that many company principals will hold meetings with consultants like myself at such locations - there is nothing unusual or untoward about it. However it's a fact that when I see a client at such a place it makes it very easy for me to dress in clothes that I couldn't possibly contemplate wearing at a central office with the numerous personnel who would see me. I can drive right up to the venue in my car, and if I wear a long coat only my footwear gives a hint of what I am wearing underneath.
Again, don't let your imagination run wild. I don't visit a client wearing a backless rubber skirt or a visible peephole bondage bra. I'm talking about wearing a miniskirt for a legs man, a partially see-through blouse for a breast fan, or thigh boots for a boot lover. And let me also stress that although there are often some introductory complimentary comments from the client, from then on it's a straight business meeting, conducted quite professionally. During the course of the meeting I will 'innocently' pose in various positions to give the client what he wants to see, but that's all. I have never taken things further and no client has directly interfered with me other than on the occasions you already know about.
To give a concrete example, a few years ago Martin and I were invited by one of my clients to an informal evening buffet to mark the opening of a new machinery plant which involved a very significant investment by his company. Martin persuaded me to wear a short leather skirt to the event and this proved to be a huge hit not only with my client but also with his senior managers. They had a photographer there and I soon lost count of the number of times I had to stand with the boss and his lieutenants while Mr Kodak snapped away with abandon. To my embarrassment (okay, and also my delight) it soon became clear that not only were other female guests being neglected from the photo frenzy but that under instruction the photographer was incorporating some unusual angles, including shots from behind me when I was at the buffet table.
The next time I contacted this client to arrange a meeting he mentioned the skirt and we had a playful exchange about it, during which I revealed that I owned a number of leather skirts. Still jousting with me, he said I should wear one at our meeting. Remembering his reaction at the buffet and sensing the undercurrent in his words, I said okay, I would. Since then I have worn a leather skirt every time I have seen him, including a zipped mini and a very tight red pencil skirt with a full zip and buckles all the way down the back. The jovial tone is always there when he sees me - ostensibly it's all a bit of fun - but once we get down to discussing business I'm very aware of his lingering eyes and heavier breathing. There's no question that this man gets off in a big way from seeing me like this, and I get enormously turned on when I see that in his eyes.
Another client's kink was revealed to me when I took my coat off at his offices. I was wearing some black leather gloves which are a little longer than most, coming to about three inches beyond my wrist. He remarked that he had been wanting to buy his wife a pair of gloves like mine for some time but had never seen any in the shops. To most people his remark would have seemed quite innocent, but I'm well aware of what leather gloves mean to some men and I also caught the look in his eye. I told him that if he gave me his wife's glove size I'd happily get some for him, which I eventually did. A couple of meetings later I took off my coat again and this time I was wearing my best leather opera gloves. His chin nearly hit the floor, but I just casually remarked that I really loved the elegance of such gloves and thought he might like to see them. Since then the locale for our meetings has changed and I always wear these gloves when I visit him in colder weather. He has never asked me to do so, nor has he ever expressed any surprise that I'm wearing them. It's a completely unspoken understanding between us.
I get extremely aroused when dressed like this for a meeting and it's not enough for me just to travel to the venue, discuss business matters, and then return home. I have a need to exhibit myself in front of others, and I've already described in an earlier entry how I like to go to a bar and pose in my thigh boots whenever I'm wearing them for a client. It's the same with slut shoes, leather miniskirts and opera gloves. Even though I'll cover myself up at the meeting venue itself to avoid any tongue wagging from anyone who happens to see me there, I will quite often visit a bar or café restaurant on the same day in order to milk as much attention as I can from the whole affair. I will remove my coat and put myself on full display, quite brazenly and fearlessly. I revel in the attention and I enjoy shocking those with more conservative tastes. There is no amount of gawping, ogling and leering that could ever overwhelm me. Nothing can faze high-class hooker Maria.
As for my overseas trips, these present a number of interesting opportunities because I tend to stay overnight, something which both excites and agitates my husband. However, since my offshore clients are limited in number and thus very easily identifiable, I'll state quite categorically that I have nothing other than a straight business relationship with each and every one of them. This doesn't prevent me amusing myself along the way though. There's no doubt that if I wanted to pick up men, the easiest way in the world is when I'm sitting at the bar in an airport departure lounge wearing a tight skirt, stockings and high heels. I just become a man magnet and I'd actually get really concerned if I wasn't propositioned at least once on each trip. The business cards I've been given would fill a sizeable handbag and I've always enjoyed showing them to Martin when I get home.
The problem is that no matter how desirable a man I meet under such circumstances (and some are really desirable) I'm not a one night stand sort of girl. It just doesn't appeal to me at all - the idea of booking into a hotel room, having a quick screw, and then going our separate ways, lucky if we can remember each other's name a week later. It all seems so sordid (which coming from someone who fantasises about being groped by a stranger in a lift must sound preposterous) and lacking in eroticism. There's no anticipation, and no gradual destruction of a man's defences as you prick tease all resistance away from him. It's just: "Do you want a fuck? Yeah, okay let's fuck."
I spent several months building up to a relationship with Matt, with another few weeks planning my husband's cuckolding. It was the way the suspense built to a crescendo that made the moment when Matt finally penetrated me so exhilarating. I guess in this sense I'm curiously old-fashioned. I see no appeal whatsoever in the hedonistic way many young British girls show their sexual freedom these days - jetting off to Spain for a week where each night of 'fun' consists of getting smashed out of your head on alcohol, screwing one of the lads, throwing up, then repeating same until you pass out. Where is the eroticism? Where are the memories?
Now that the status of my marriage has changed, if I met someone like Matt while I was sitting on a plane I'd certainly consider meeting him again. It just wouldn't be a quick fling, that's all. When I sit next to an attractive man on a flight I make sure he has to endure an hour or two looking at my skirt slowly inching it's way higher and higher as I deliberately adjust myself in my seat. I'll also surreptitiously pull my skirt on the side away from him so that it stretches across the tops of my thighs, making my suspender clips look as though they're about to burst out of the fabric. I get seriously aroused when I do this, yet strangely I have no desire to turn it into anything more. The idea of having intercourse with a virtual stranger leaves me quite cold. Try to work that one out.
So, now that you know a little more about how I take my unusual tastes to work with me, how do things progress from here? Please understand that these are important business people I'm talking about, many of whom I consider friends, and if my identity becomes known I would not want them to be embarrassed in any way. Therefore let me state quite unambiguously that when I said I wished to take things further with certain clients now that Martin has been cuckolded, I was indulging in wishful thinking. It isn't going to happen. It will never happen.
There is no way that high ranking businessmen in their fifties and even sixties would consider messing around with a thirty-two year old management consultant, no matter how attractive she may be. These men have too much integrity to ever be swayed by the fact that she sits in front of them in short skirts, high-heeled shoes or boots, stockings and suspenders, and revealing bras. Those whom she visits in even more suggestive clothing just consider it a harmless perk and nothing more. If, sometime in the next few weeks, she handed any of these men a digital camera and asked them to take a few shots of her, they would of course refuse. And even if they agreed to her bizarre request, they would immediately stop when her poses became too revealing - when she pulled her skirt up to show her stocking tops and suspenders; when she unbuttoned her blouse to reveal her exotic bra and barely covered breasts.
Or suppose she apparently forgot herself and kissed a client on the mouth instead of the cheek as she was about to leave. Suppose she hesitated for a moment as she considered her indiscretion, and because the client had not objected, she then did it again. The client of course would recoil. He would tell her to not be so presumptuous, to get a grip of herself. He might even terminate her services.
Those clients who have shown a quite innocent liking for her thigh length boots would look puzzled if she showed them the new silver spurs she has just purchased. They would show no emotion other than embarrassment if she revealed to them that her husband diligently polishes her boots for her. They would balk if she walked over to them and asked them to feel the shiny leather, to appreciate just how hard her husband has worked on them. And if in their confusion they did actually do as she asked and stroked her boots, they would be aghast if she then closed her eyes and uttered what was unmistakably a soft moan of pleasure.
So there you have it. Sadly you won't be reading about any trysts with my clients because they are simply not going to happen. No client would ever allow it. Period.
Now that's been made clear, let's indulge in a little make believe for a moment. Let's fantasise that I do manage to take things further with eight or so clients, seeing them at regular intervals, say four to six times a year. All I do is turn up for a meeting as normal, but it lasts half-an-hour to an hour longer than might be expected. I act with the same diligence and professional care that I have done in the past, except the client and I get to enjoy a little post-meeting relaxation.
In the early stages the client just sees me playing with myself, openly massaging my breasts and crotch. My hand disappears into my panties and he sees it moving methodically back and forth as I lean my head back and moan. I am quite happy for the client to stay a passive observer to my outrageous exhibitionism, in which case he witnesses me fingering myself to climax, perhaps jerking off as he watches. But the majority will want to eventually finger and grope me themselves as I masturbate them, and this is what I enjoy most.
Eventually things go further than this, but not in the way you might think. I don't have intercourse with any of my clients, nor do give oral pleasure to them. No, what I like is for the client to either watch me using sex toys or to have him actually use them on me himself. Each client chooses the toys he wants me to play with, either from a catalogue or from web sites. Martin orders and purchases these items and is responsible for ensuring that the correct toys are available in my briefcase on any given day.
I find the thought of all this unbelievably appealing. There are so many sex toys available, and each client is likely to be different. One may want to see me with vibrating clamps attached to my nipples and clitoris; another will perhaps want to watch me writhing around on the floor with a buzzing rabbit in my pussy. But I imagine most men will want to do me themselves as I take the lead:
That's it, that's it... nice and easy... oh yes, hmm... oh it's lovely and cold. Lovely... Oh God, how did you know I wanted a glass dildo in my arse?... oh yes, that's it... just a bit more... beautiful... it's just the right size... perfect... now in and out, gently... that's right... oh you've got it... you've got it... you're just brilliant... just slide your hand under and feel my pussy... go on... that's it... see how wet I am?... I'm soaking... I've been like that ever since I left home, thinking about this... I've been thinking about it all weekend... oh, yes, yes... more of that... yes... use three fingers... that's it... oh this is just unbelievable... I'm not going to be able to last long... you've got me too hot... but I'm going to come again today... I'm going to have two orgasms... you make me want to come again and again... I just love it... I can never get enough... oh, it's too fantastic... yes, yes, wank my pussy... yes, yes... don't stop... don't stop... don't stop...
The sort of dialogue above won't be some contrivance to butter up my client. It will be completely genuine. When I'm turned on this is exactly how I feel. Imagine: I'll be bent over a table, my skirt pulled up, my panties around my knees, having my arse reamed and my pussy fingered and I'll be in seventh heaven. The client will make me want to come again and again, and he'll just love the fact that he's reduced me to an out-of-control, dirty-mouthed slut who simply can't get enough action.
The thought of doing this once a week or so with a different man sends shivers down my spine, particularly when I imagine how this all interplays with Martin's cuckolding. On certain days he will watch me dress in front of the mirror, knowing that the underwear I am putting on is going to be seen and played with by one of my businessman friends. He will also have to clean and ready the sex toys du jour, all the time wondering what positions and locations I will be in when they are used. The jealousy and agony will build, as will the perverted arousal. He will watch me get into my car in my short skirt and super high heels, knowing that this day I am going to be another man's plaything.
He will know the time of the meeting... 10.00. He will be constantly glancing at his watch. 10.30... 10.45... 11.05...
11:15 Probably business is over, fun is beginning.
11:20 She's sitting on his knee, kissing him.
11:25 His hand is working its way up her skirt, feeling her smooth stockings, touching and pulling her suspenders, rubbing her inner thighs.
11:30 He's fingering her through her panties...
Martin is erect, unable to control his urges. He tries to distract himself, working through the papers on his desk, but it's no good, he can't obliterate it from his mind. This is his wife. She should be his and his alone! Instead she's prostituting herself. She's a whore. If people found out... if they really knew what she was like.
11:35 She's undone her blouse and her breasts are being sucked. She's loving it, and the man can feel the wetness with his hand. He's hard now and she's turned sideways a little so she can massage him.
11:38 He's even harder, she's even wetter, the kissing is becoming wild...
His office phone rings. He answers. It's a senior manager. Could Martin come down for a quick discussion on the Belgian contract? I'll be there in a while, Martin says. Bit tied up at present. He unzips his flies. Don't start playing with yourself. Not at work. But he can't stop. Out comes his prick. Why can't it be hard like this when I'm with her? Why do I get nervous in her presence, making her laugh when it goes soft?
11:42 She's standing now, and has walked to her case. She pulls out the toys the client has chosen for today. Same as last time. He really gets off on seeing these.
11:45 The 5-inch vibrating dildo is pointing skyward at the edge of the desk, the sucker on its base immobilising it. She's lubricated it heavily and she switches it on, a gentle buzzing sound filling the room. Then she turns away and lowers herself carefully towards it. He loves this bit, the penetration, and he gets his head close, pulling her bottom cheeks apart with his hands. She wiggles her hips a few times, trying to manoeuvre herself to the correct spot. Ah, there, got it. She eases herself down, letting the head press against the opening. Gently up and down, up and down. It widens, widens, widens, and then... it's in. She moans. Ecstasy.
Martin's masturbating is almost out of control. This is a ridiculous thing to do, and he knows it. Get a grip! This is just what she wants! Show some steel, stand up to her. Make her respect you so she won't want them any more, and especially him. No, I can't stop. She's got that rubber cock in her ass now. And any moment he's going to put...
11:48 Her rear is impaled. The feeling is incredible, and she's moving up and down, giving her arse the masturbation she's been looking forward to all day. She's wet enough now, wet enough for what he likes to see. She watches as the man picks up the second toy. He likes to do this part himself. But toy is the wrong word. It's supposedly based on the real thing, a real man's prick. It certainly looks real, but surely no man can be that long? She knows that black men are meant to be big, but this big? Thank God for Matt, she can take the girth. But the length... four inches longer than her lover. Can a man be that long?
...that huge monster into his wife's pussy. He had to pack it this morning. It was enormous. The thought that his beautiful, sexy Maria is being violated by such a thing... but worse, she wants it. Right at this moment she will be loving it as the man she is with starts pumping the gargantuan phallus in and out of her cunt. How she can take even a few inches when her rear is being filled as well is beyond belief. It's no good. Martin knows he is going to have to shoot his load. He hopes he can catch it all.
11:55 She's sure she's taken more than last time, but it's just starting to hurt a little now. No more, she has to tell the man. No more, I can't take any more. It's beautiful though. Thank you, oh thank you so much. Can you get my camera? Can you take some shots as I finish myself off?
12:01 She's bouncing up and down while ramming the black man in and out of her. She's out of control now. This is going to be a massive climax, one that's going to drain her desperately. But she doesn't care. What a fantastic experience. Flash from the camera. Waves of pleasure.
Release. He manages to catch the first few ropes in his hand, but there is too much, and soon it's dripping on to the office carpet. But he can't stop. He has to empty it all, has to purge her from his mind.
12:04 The camera captures her face at the moment of orgasm. Her husband will see this picture later. He will see a look of sexual pleasure that never once crossed her face when he used to try to satisfy her. Pity there is no recorded sound to capture her scream of delight.
12:08 Her client is getting his reward. It won't take long. She is very skilled with her hands, and she's wrapped her expensive silk panties around his cock. He loves to cream in her panties. She is so pleased. She must give this man a special treat next time. Something special. She will think of something very special.
It's done. And now the pain as the passion subsides. The shame. The loneliness until he sees her again. His beautiful wife. His beautiful Maria. When she gets home all will be well. She will abuse him, he has few doubts about that. But she will also hold him and kiss him and talk softly to him, and that is all that he needs. A man should expect no more from his Goddess.
12:20 Fully clothed once more, closing her case and about to leave. She looks immaculate, with no visible sign of what has just taken place. She will be driving home with her vagina bare, the man keeping his trophy prize as usual. She has no idea what he will do with them, but she loves the thought that he has a collection of her soiled, cum-ridden panties hidden away from his wealthy socialite wife.
12:22 She kisses him. That was amazing she says. She can't wait until next time. Maybe he'd like to tie her up and spank her at the next meeting? Would he like to do that?
12:26 She gets into her car. Already the tingling between her legs has started as she anticipates her arrival home. She will give her husband a full account of what she has done and as always he will have to write up the events in the private diary, adding selected pictures that she has chosen. She has a wicked thought that increases the tingling. She will make her husband erect and then hold his prick next to the black lover that gave her such a spectacular orgasm earlier. The comparison will be laughable, and she will whip her spouse for his deficiency. Oh yes, that's perfect...
12:27 The engine's running now, but she can't resist it. She opens the case and has another look at the massive cock. Incredible. She decides she will break her own rules tonight and take it to bed with her. She won't cheat too much - she won't let it penetrate her. She just wants to nuzzle up to it and fall asleep with it beside her. Then when she wakes in the morning she can kiss and lick it before she gets up.
12:29 Exiting the car park. It's no good, she's already turned on again and it's a long journey home. There's a hotel on the way, perfect for what she likes, with regular conventions and conferences. She'll stop for half an hour and sit in the lounge bar, getting even hotter as the businessmen ogle her. Short skirt and no panties. This is going to be fun...
In the pictures below I'm wearing two outfits that I have worn for specific clients and on each occasion a long coat covered most of me until I was alone in private with my client. Nevertheless I later wore both outfits in public (yes, the opera gloves too) before I made my way home. Note how footwear sends the most powerful message of all, and I particularly get a kick from wearing the triple-strapped slut shoes you can see here. They're screaming: "hooker!", and I love it. The heels are nearly six inches but I can walk in them fine. Most women would just fall over.
A good majority of the poses you see here are precisely the same as those a client currently sees, and similarly for men in a restaurant or bar afterwards. The more risqué shots would be seen if I really did hand a client a digital camera and ask him to snap away. But of course I would never do that would I? You know me well enough by now to be certain I'd never do such a thing...
|To contact me, email maria at this site|