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It wasn’t unusual for Christy to get hired by women. It was actually increasingly common for wives and girlfriends to employ her services as a special birthday or anniversary present. Normally these women were a little bi-curious, so the ‘present’ was as much to themselves as it was for their partner, a convenient way to explore that side of their sexuality.
But she had a feeling that the woman sitting in front of her was a little different from her usual female clients. To start with, she was paying two hundred pounds just to spend half an hour with her in the bar just now. Normally the whole gig was a straightforward two hour appointment in a hotel room, where she would be greeted by the pair of them, slightly tipsy and giggling. After a slightly awkward first few minutes, in which the couple acclimatize to the presence of a third body, it would invariably end up with the guy wanting to watch as his partner got it on with another woman. It had been known for Christy to leave the hotel room, fully paid, without having any noticeable contact with the guy’s cock, beyond a cursory hand job or spot of fellatio.
So being paid a couple of hundred simply to sit and chew the fat like this wasn’t run of the mill. What’s more, the woman didn’t seem in the slightest bit excited or apprehensive about the prospect; rather she seemed almost like it was all a bit of an inconvenience.
“So, I take it I’ll be meeting the two of you? You and your partner?”
“What?! No! No, it will just be him.”
“Oh, ok,” well that was definitely a first, but whatever, “and how long will the…. appointment… be?”
“At least an hour, maybe more. How flexible are you?”
“I’m no gymnast, but I can manage most positions I’ve been asked to adopt.” The woman didn’t so much as crack a smile. “Okay, so if you book and pay up-front for three hours, then we can settle up for any additional time on at the end. But if it only lasts one hour there’s no refund I’m afraid.”
“That seems fine. I have one other request. It’s a bit unusual.”
No shit. Here it comes. What kink was she going to be asked to cater for? She was okay with most stuff but drew the lines at anything involving animals, scat and pain (for her, anyway). She had let herself be tied up on occasion, but the punter had to pay the extra cost for one of the agency’s minders to sit downstairs in the hotel bar.
“Well, ahead of the… appointment… would you consider having a tattoo?”
Christy frowned. “I already have a few, honey. But they’re all pretty small and discreet. If you want something on a grander scale, there’s a girl at the agency, Adriana, she is virtually covered in the things. She’s got quite a few piercings too mind you, but maybe he’s into that too?”
“No, no. You misunderstand me. I just want you to have a very specific tattoo done.”
“Like this. Exactly like this.” The woman produced her phone and called up a shot of a tattoo. “It’s mine. I want you to have one done exactly the same.”
“Weird tattoo. I don’t know. How big is it, and whereabouts do you want me to have it?”
“Just here,” the woman pressed two fingers lightly onto the front of her skirt, just above her crotch, “and it’s only very small.”
“Hey, lady, that’s a pretty intimate place. All my clients will end up seeing that, well most of them….. I don’t know. You’re asking a lot.”
“I’m willing to pay.”
“What it takes. Within reason. How much would you want?”
“Five grand,” it was a number she had plucked out of the air. She was pretty sure the woman would balk at such a figure. But it didn’t seem to phase her.
“Ok, that seems fine,” the woman said, and Christy immediately wished she’d said ten.
They were in the local Tapas bar, and Mike was ordering numerous bottles of the best quality cava. Every member of the pitch team had come back yesterday convinced they had done enough to win it, due in no small part to Rick’s last gasp efforts, and the mood of optimism seemed justified this morning when Mike received an email from the procurement guy, wanting to clarify some of the contractual details. A quick phone call to the Chief Marketing Officer confirmed that, provided they could agree terms with the procurement team, the business was theirs. That conversation took place at three, and by half four everyone in the agency who didn’t have an urgent deadline was packed into a cosy function area at the back of Cafe Barca, tucking into slices of Spanish tortilla, chunks of fried chorizo and Serrano ham croquettas and knocking back the cava as quickly as the waiting staff could refill their glasses. The win was big enough to mean they would probably hit their new business targets this year, so the general consensus amongst the hubbub was that tonight was going to be a long night.
Rick was half listening to a bit of salacious gossip almanbahis concerning a certain copywriter who had an established track record of seducing the steady flow of young female interns that the agency hired, at the same time straining his neck trying to pick Mya out in the throng. He hadn’t spoken to her since the other night when she had sucked voraciously at his cock before dragging him to the sofa in reception and straddling him. The sex had been good, albeit it for him with that slightly uneasy feeling of someone who is stone cold sober doing it with a partner clearly four sheets to the wind. Mya had pretty much passed out on the sofa afterwards, and Rick had dressed and returned to his desk to finish the work. Colleagues working on the pitch started arriving around six, and one of them dragged Mya off to McDonald’s for a Big Breakfast and vanilla milkshake while Rick shared his work with the rest. He had of course gone straight home after that and slept all day. Various meetings today had meant that it had been difficult to catch Mya on her own, but on the one occasion he had tried to, she had made a flimsy excuse about a client call. She evidently didn’t want to talk. How different from last night when she just wouldn’t leave him alone!
He was just working out a way to extricate himself from the conversation he was in and manoeuvre his way through the crowd towards her, just to say hello, maybe ask her if she wanted to chat later when his phone vibrated in his pocket.
It was a text from Alex. It said, simply, “Be here at eight. A x”. He looked at the time. Half five. That gave him easily enough time to get home to shower and change and get back across town to her place. Plenty of time. He contemplated staying for another drink, then smiled to himself as he suddenly realised he was drinking beer in a green bottle. The clue that had led to his liaison with Alex this evening. He was starting to enjoy this bizarre series of puzzles that was leading him from one girl to another. He would enjoy it more if it wasn’t for the nagging in the back of his mind that he and Mya could still have something special if only she would talk to him about it.
He groped and twisted his way through the throng towards Mya. It was only fair that he should let her know he was heading off to see Alex, give her the chance to ask him not to, even though he was sure she wouldn’t take it. When he reached her, she was in the middle of a raucous argument with several other girls about which one of them was going to pinch the dishy young waiter’s backside next time he passed carrying a plate of tortilla. Rick touched her arm and said “I’m off” as she turned. He was planning on adding the bit about going to see Alex, but the waiter had appeared again, and Mya immediately started goading Amy, a young project manager, into accepting the dare.
He gave up and headed for the door. As he turned, he smiled. The young ones were certainly going to make it a messy one tonight.
The buzzer went. She looked at the clock for at least the seventh time in the last hour. Five to eight. She took a deep breath and muttered a few words of encouragement to herself. He smiled as she opened the door and he leant forward to give her a friendly peck on the cheek.
“Hope I’m not late,” he said as he stepped inside, and handed her a bottle of red wine. She wasn’t a connoisseur by any stretch of the imagination, but it looked like a nice one.
“No, it’s absolutely perfect timing. Now, do you want to make yourself comfortable?”
“I’d love to. Shall I take my shoes off?”
“I think you better had. We’re in here.” She led him down the hall and showed him into her bedroom. “Don’t stop with the shoes, strip down to your boxers for me. Then lie on the bed.”
“Remember, if you’re not happy with my rules….”
“No, no. Of course. Sorry, just took me by surprise a little, that’s all.”
“Good. See you in a mo,” and with that, she turned and walked out of the room, and into the next room down the hall.
Laid out on the bed in the spare bedroom was the outfit she had chosen for tonight. She had agonized over what to wear. She had been out and bought a black basque, all tight and severe, pushing her breasts right up until they were just about spilling out over the top. She tried it with her knee high black boots. It looked the business if she said so herself but it wasn’t her, she just didn’t feel comfortable. So after reading something online that said it wasn’t about wearing a uniform, it was about being yourself, she plumped for her favourite outfit. A simple lace chemise that fell mid-thigh, with a sexy slit. That, a small black thong, some hold-ups and her favourite black heels.
She looked at herself in the mirror, applied a little more lippy and then returned to the main bedroom. As instructed, he was lying on the bed in just his boxers, looking almanbahis giriş just a tad self-conscious, with his arms criss-crossed on his chest like a mummy.
“Right. Let’s get started,” she announced. He looked a little apprehensive, so she added, “Just relax.” If anything it made him worse.
She walked over to the top of the bed and took his left wrist in her hand, pulling it up and away from his chest. With the other, she located the scarf she had already tied to the bed post. Within seconds his wrist was securely tethered.
“What the….?” He went to rise off the bed.
“Ah, ah, ah,” she admonished softly but firmly and gently pushed him back down. He watched her as she walked around to the other side and repeated the operation, again with a scarf already tied to the post. When she walked down to the bottom of the bed and took hold of his right ankle, his instinctive reaction was to pull his foot away.
She said nothing. Just looked at him calmly, an eyebrow raised. He relented and pushed his foot out towards her hand, and she tied it to a third pre-tethered scarf. He strained his head to follow her as she moved to the last remaining corner. This time she didn’t reach for his foot, but waited with the scarf in her hand, waiting. After a second or two he stretched his leg out for her to tie it.
“Good. I’ll be back in a minute,” she said and left the bedroom again. Her heart was beating so hard in her chest, and she was visibly shaking. She’d had to maintain a veneer of calm and composure in the bedroom. She waited outside the door for a minute or so, then picked up a pair of scissors she had purposely left on a cupboard and walked slowly back in.
She could see that he was pleased to see her. Or maybe relieved would be a better way to describe the look on his face. She sat on the side of the bed, slipping the scissors behind her, out of sight. She noticed when she walked in that his cock was hard in his boxers. It wasn’t hard before she returned, which suggested he liked the feeling of being tied like this.
Her heart was pounding still. She must remain calm on the outside, must not let him sense that she was a novice at this, that would ruin the whole dynamic. He had to accept that she was in control. That is the feeling that was making her so, so wet. She had run through this scenario so many times in her head. So far it was going according to plan, and she wanted to try so much, but she knew she had to take it step by step.
She traced the outline of his cock through his boxers slowly with a fingernail. Immediately she could feel it twitch, and grow even harder. She repeated the motion, only this time she pressed down a little more with her fingernail. He squirmed a little, especially when her fingernail passed over his knob. Her finger continued up over his firm stomach, all the time pressing down just a little so it would be slightly uncomfortable, but still arousing. Her fingernail circled his left nipple, then headed up towards his neck and onto his face, her finger parting his lips, pushing into his mouth. He went to suck her finger, but she withdrew it before he had the chance.
She looked back down at his cock, straining against his boxers, pushing them up then she climbed in between his outstretched legs. Her fingers on both her hands played with his cock, dragging her nails over the soft cotton, down from his knob to his balls. He had started to groan quite loudly now. Still trying to maintain her composure, doing everything slowly, she reached behind her and pulled out the pair of scissors. His looked up to see what she was reaching for, and immediately she could see a twinge of apprehension, almost fear, in his eyes.
“What the fuck….?” he said as his arms and legs started to test the strength of his bonds.
“Ah, ah, ah,” she said again calmly, “I need these pants off, and I’m not in the mood to untie your feet.” She was trying to strike the right tone, warm but firm. In control. He needed to obey.
She slipped one blade under the leg of his pants, sliding against his skin, probably pushing against his flesh just a little too hard for comfort. But the other blade was outside the pants, and she smiled, and he looked like he understood her intention.
“From here on in, if you’re not happy with anything, you just need to say ‘tattoo’ and I stop. But the moment you do, we’re done. Which of course means you won’t get to see my tattoo. Agreed?” She was quite pleased with her choice of safe word, the touch of irony it involved.
He nodded, she could see he was excited and intrigued by what she had in store for him.
“So, unless you say otherwise, these pants are history, and you’re going home commando, sweetie.” She waited a few seconds before starting to cut through them. A few broad cuts and his cock popped out of its restrictive covering. A few more cuts and she whipped the boxers off and almanbahis yeni giriş discarded them.
“Mmm…. yes… very nice…. very nice indeed….” she said, almost as if talking to Mya and Summer, confirming their reviews, as her fingernails once again traced up and down the length of his erection, only now directly on its smooth skin. She started to wank his hardness as she spoke again.
“Ok. So, one last rule. And this one is a bit of a biggie. You are not to come until I say so. Again, if you break the rule, no tattoo. Understand?”
He nodded. He seemed to have lost the power of speech.
“Excellent. Now let’s get started.”
He looked up at her, a totally lost and bewildered look on his face.
Her intention was to get him to the point of orgasm as quickly as possible. This scenario was a long time in the planning for her, and she had spent many an hour understanding exactly how to make her past boyfriends happy with her mouth and fingers. It was a training programme they had all been happy to assist her with, albeit entirely unwittingly.
Her fingernails clawed lightly at his balls as she applied small darting licks to the sensitive underside of his knob, It was enough to have him panting. Next, she took him in her hand and wanked him in a vice-like grip as her tongue flicked away. She could sense that he was building up, and could sense some unease as he, presumably, was trying desperately not to.
She slowed down the assault on his cock just a little, enough to keep him on the brink without tipping him over. She slid a hand up his stomach, over his chest until her fingers reached a nipple. She stroked it briefly before squeezing hard on it. He let out a yelp and squirmed in a vain attempt to escape the sudden unexpected pain. Her fingers maintained their grip, however and squeezed just a little harder. Then they released it and glided across his chest until they reach the other, where they lingered, stroking and teasing.
She had stopped licking his cock by now, but the regulated wanking of his cock continued. She was looking at his face, and his eyes were locked on hers, as her fingers played idly with his nipple. He knew what was coming next, but she was making him wait, building the anticipation. Then suddenly she squeezed hard, harder than with the other nipple. No yelp this time, there was no surprise, but a sharp intake of breath, and still he squirmed.
She let go and ran her hand back and forth between his nipples, flicking them with a nail as she wanked him hard and fast again, her hand becoming covered in sticky, slippery pre-cum, building him back up towards climax. As he approached, though, she let go of his cock entirely and used both of her hands to pinch both nipples at once, twisting and pulling on them, increasing the pressure, but careful not to push him too far. She was desperate to try some nipple clamps that she had purchased online but knew that on this occasion it would probably be too much and would bring an early and unsatisfactory end to their encounter.
So, for the time being, she contented herself with working his nipples with her fingers for the next ten minutes until they were ultra-sensitive. She could see total confusion in his eyes, as he came to terms with the fact that he was happy, more than happy in fact, to be subjected to this sort of treatment. He hadn’t been expecting anything like this to happen tonight, she is sure, and her panties are soaked through with the thought of how she is making him feel.
She looked down at his cock, it was still rock hard lying against his stomach, looking like it might explode if she so much as touched it, but she risked it, tracing a finger from his balls up along the underneath of his shaft, and over his knob. Sure enough, he let out a huge groan as if it is all he could do to contain himself.
Her attention turned back to his nipples. This time it was her mouth hovering over one of them. They were bright pink and as sore as hell, she was sure. She looked him in the eyes as her mouth opened, first licking her soft lips with her tongue then, baring her small perfect rows of teeth. Which one was he going to get? He was totally transfixed; he looked like he understood exactly what she was doing. She smiled, to herself more than to him. He had been a good choice. She had hoped he would go along with it to a certain extent in a desire to get a glimpse of the tattoo, but she was certain it was more than that for him now. He had a definite sub side to him.
Her tongue snaked out and licked gently on his nipple, caressing and soothing it. She felt his body relax at the warm, tender touch. Seconds later she bit down on it, pulling at it with her mouth. The noise that came out of his mouth was part gasp, part screech. His back arched to try and relieve the strain on his nipple, which was being stretched as she pulled her head back slowly.
She released it from her mouth, kissed around it a few times. They were soft butterfly kisses, but his body didn’t relax. She sat up and stroked his face, smiling warmly down at him. She was so turned on, having him like this. Her pussy was throbbing; it needed attention.
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