 |
|||
|
|
The Bath & York stores had been open for 2 months and the increase in business had demanded more staff. They were fully trained now so I needed to mystery shop them as well as keeping an eye on the established stores. I covered thousands of miles in 3 weeks, visiting both our own retail outlets as well as those of our competitors, working some weekends too to observe the differing clientele and staff.
The growth in 'raunchy' shops found in many high streets and out-of-town retail parks had caught Linda's attention and she asked me to call in whenever I saw a new one open, to monitor their merchandise, their sales methods and the type of customers they attract, which I did. Much of what they sold could best be described as trash but they usually carried some more stylish lingerie, albeit overpriced for what it was. Some of their fetish/fantasy wear was basically crap, but again they did have some lines that were very daring and probably a lot of fun behind closed doors. Mostly made of PVC and leatherette, it was rarely well made and usually purchased by young girls in pairs and groups buying for a laugh or for parties, the dance floor or simply under peer group pressure. However, I did see more mature, sophisticated customers buying highly selectively, seeking out the better quality goods including latex rubber and soft, supple leather.
The staff in these shops varied from mostly immature, poorly trained and uninterested, through to some skilled and highly attentive young women who took good care of me and seemed to genuinely want to understand my needs and expectations.
More out of personal curiosity than professional motivation, I stopped by the 'Adult' section of one such store. Here I found overpriced rubbish that I guessed would usually be bought as a gift and never used. Many of the toys were made from cheap, hard plastic in garish designs and colours that could only be found stimulating by the most unsophisticated and insecure of customers. However, again I found some treasures if I was prepared to look long and hard enough. From one women's toys section I purchased a sleek and attractive vibrator in 'soft-feel' dark blue and a device called a Butterfly, described as 'discreet yet powerful, delivering pleasure and relief at any time and in any place.' I looked forward to validating the manufacturer's claims.
Most nights away I stayed at good quality edge-of-town hotels belonging to the up-market chains, preferring these to city-centre establishments which usually have smaller rooms, smell of chips, are noisier and rarely have sports and leisure facilities.
Early one evening whilst enjoying a refreshing drink in the bar of one such hotel just outside York, I was approached by a young lady. This made a pleasant change from the unwelcome attention I often attracted from male guests.
It was Danielle, whom I'd met briefly in the Regent St. store when I spent rather too long in the changing room with Linda. She introduced herself and explained that she had now been transferred to the recently-opened York Passionella outlet and she'd recognised me from my shopping trip there the previous day. From her wonderful local accent I guessed this was much nearer home.
I hoped she hadn't remembered the Linda incident - she must have heard us. Remembering that I was still 'on duty' I had to role-play as customer not colleague, concocting a simple explanation of why I was in the area. Liars need good memories. Passionella had relocated her back to Yorkshire and she was staying in the hotel until she could find somewhere to live - Dems do not get their accommodation provided by the company.
We shared a drink and some jokes and I invited her to join me in the hotel pool. Fortunately she too had planned to visit the sports complex so she had some swimwear with her and ten minutes later we were standing in our underwear in the communal changing rooms.
Danielle pulled a rather serious-looking one-piece swimsuit from her sports bag and I immediately felt awkward - I only had my skimpy, strappy blue bikini with me and I didn't want to upstage her. But Danielle soon salvaged the situation, commenting: "Oh fantastic. If you're going into the pool in that, I'll join you. I bought this weeks ago but I haven't yet summoned up the courage to wear it," she bubbled, "I figured it was too revealing." Upon which she pulled a few scraps of dark bronze metallic-effect fabric, held together with the thinnest of 'string' straps, from the side pocket of her sports bag and held them up to her slender body.
Delighted, I explained to her the enjoyment I derived from teasing the obese middle-aged businessmen who often frequent these hotels by strutting around the pool edge in a revealing bikini, which would preferably be near-transparent when wet.
"I love the way they furtively stare at me and try to conceal their erections. That counts 5 points. The experienced pool voyeurs wear loose boxer-style swimwear and take a newspaper or magazine onto the poolside, peering over the top to watch me. Score: 10 points. If I'm feeling really brave, I pick on a young guy in tight trunks and really lead him on. If I can spot a full-grown stiffy in his pants I award myself double points. If he approaches me and attempts to chat me up, I simply make my excuses and head for the female changing rooms. Does that me a big tease?"
Danielle just giggled and couldn't wait to dive in. I followed her and we swam several lengths together before climbing out at the far end.
When Danielle emerged from the cool water, her nipples were already erect and they poked provocatively through the thin shiny fabric of her tiny bikini top. Her small breasts needed little support and were spaced wide on her chest so she didn't naturally display a cleavage but I particularly enjoyed watching the soft swellings of her 34A breasts peeping cheekily out of the sides of her bronze top.
Her waist was slim and her tummy was flat without being overly muscular and the back of her thong-style bikini bottoms had completely disappeared into the crack between her taught, rounded bum cheeks. Her thighs were slim but her pelvis was wide so, even when she stood with her knees together I could see daylight between the tops of her legs (I love that in a girl) as well as the beautiful curve of her bronze-lycra covered pussy. A small fabric triangle hid her mound but little else; her pubes were obviously shaved or waxed almost out of existence.
I could hardly keep my own eyes off her body. Neither could our audience. We spent nearly an hour in the pool area and Danielle won easily by 85 points to 40. She was so sexy, just the way she looked and moved. Her string bikini was so revealing we would have been ejected from any public pool but these hotel pools are often unattended; we could only guess how many staff were huddled around the CCTV monitor as we strutted and swayed and sat and reclined and plunged.
Having attracted more than our fair share of lascivious stares and pathetic chat-up lines, we made our escape to the changing rooms. Danielle undressed in the shower cubicle and emerged with a towel around her so, disappointingly, I didn't get to see her naked. We dressed and agreed to share a table for dinner. Preferring to eat almost anywhere except a hotel restaurant, we jumped into a taxi and headed into the city centre. We got on terrifically and enjoyed an Indian meal washed down with several bottles of strong lager. Danielle had worked as a Dem for Passionella for 18 months and had been married briefly to a beast of a man who totally failed to satisfy her sexually, now listing fast driving, clubbing and partying high on her list of favourite pastimes.
We staggered back to the hotel at midnight and I invited her up to my room but she declined, adding "Maybe another time." I certainly hoped that was sincere and not just a brush-off.
When I checked out of the hotel next morning, the desk boy handed me a message. 'Contact Linda at the office whenever convenient'
On my way to my next store visit I called the office. Linda was out but she had left detailed instructions with Rachel: On Thursday at 4:30 p.m. I was to go to a particular car dealership representing one of the premium German brands and ask for David Cousins, and then meet her at 7:30 in a bar round the corner from PROM
I busied myself until Thursday, calling into just about every lingerie retailer in York whilst constantly pondering over my appointments. I hoped that Linda hadn't changed her mind. I'd put a lot of thought and energy into finding ways to help her, with assistance and 'training' from Kirsten in particular as well as some valuable encouragement and suggestions from Emma. Wednesday night was slow to pass as I lay awake wondering if I'd done something wrong.
I drove onto the small forecourt of the German car dealer at exactly the prescribed time (I'd parked round the corner for nearly an hour, waiting impatiently) and Mr Cousins was waiting for me. "You must be Julia, Linda's friend. Hello, how are you?" he enquired, shaking me firmly by the hand. I could only guess why I was here, confirmed by his next remark.
"It's ready for you, and you've made an excellent choice, if you don't mind me saying." I played along. "We've fitted and tested all the extras you ordered. The mechanics commented that they've never prepared a car that's so comprehensively specified. It took them all lunchtime to work out that you really have got every possible option and extra in the price list." I already hated this man more than most. Patronising is not a strong enough word. "And the colour would have been my choice too." I felt sick.
Mr Cousins led me to the showroom and there in the doorway stood a work of art in steel and glass. The latest, most powerful version of a classic in its own time. A 2-door coupe in dark metallic blue, 4-wheel drive, with every safety, convenience and comfort accessory I could ever need, and more besides. He handed me they keys. "I'll help you transfer your belongings from your old car then you just need to sign a couple of forms and she's yours."
As I drove gingerly from the forecourt I felt on top of the world, but also a little puzzled. The car was fantastic; I'd seen similar models on the road and envied them enormously. Had I let slip this fact to Linda? The name on the registration document was mine but on the top of the invoice was not Passionella UK but Linda's name and private address. At first I'd assumed this was my new company car but it now appeared to be a personal gift from Linda. Was it a thank-you, or bribery? Or even 'immoral earnings? But I hadn't even touched her yet!
Linda was already sitting at a pavement table when I arrived, sipping a long soft drink. She kissed me warmly on both cheeks and moved my chair out for me like a well-practised waiter. "Hi, Julia, thanks for coming, how are you?" she enquired.
My drink arrived and I started to describe some aspects of my research during the previous two weeks but Linda's mind was obviously elsewhere. "Oh, yes, I remember," interrupted Linda, going on to remind me that she sees all my reports, which she reads avidly. Before I'd finished, Linda reached into her bag and pulled out neatly-folded document on Passionella headed paper.
"Julia," she commenced, "I have been giving a lot of thought recently to the product strategy for Passionella UK and your recent reports have confirmed and crystallise my plans. I've drafted a letter to all my employees and I'd like you to look over it. I'd value your comments. Take it home and let me know next week." She passed the crisp papers to me; I glanced over the pages and slipped them into my bag.
"Do you like the car?" she asked, rapidly changing the subject.
I said that I did like it enormously but that I'd only had time to drive a few miles, and I started to ask a question. From by the expression on my face she accurately guessed what it might be. "Let's just say it's a mark of my appreciation for all you have done for Passionella UK, and for me personally." I only managed to say "But ..." when she put a finger on my lips to stop me. "Just enjoy it, OK. You deserve it. Thanks."
She changed the subject once more and we spent a pleasant hour chatting over a meal, until I'd summoned up the courage to ask another question that had been bothering me.
"Linda," I started; she looked straight at me. "How did you know I'd tied Helen's wrists together in the Private Room after the Mesh launch? And what we did together?"
Linda stood up, paid the bill and took me by the hand. "I'll show you."
It took only a few minutes to walk to Passionella UK head office. When we arrived, the lights were still on. "I expect Emma's working late again, or maybe Charlotte," Linda commented nonchalantly. I followed her upstairs to her office and she beckoned me in, locking the door behind us. Surely Helen hadn't broken one of the main Passionella rules, of complete confidentiality? I guessed Linda was going to play me a sound recording of a conversation. But no, she'd said 'I'll show you.'
Linda switched on her computer and the large flat plasma screen on her office wall lit up. She pressed a few keyboard keys and an image appeared. I immediately recognised it as the Red Private Room. She clicked again and a picture of Yellow appeared, then Silver. I looked at her to elicit an explanation.
"Look carefully," she suggested. As I studied the picture I realised it was not a still photograph, but a moving image, even though there was nothing actually moving. "Video?" I asked. "No," she replied, "definitely not. Live."
"CCTV?"
"Yes," she confirmed.
So, Linda could watch what was happening in any of the rooms at any time, live in her office. So that explains why she's nowhere to be seen at the launch-night after-show parties - Linda's a voyeur.
"Does anyone else know?" I asked.
"Only Emma, " she replied in a faltering voice, "I'm sorry if I've betrayed your trust. But I found watching beautiful women getting off on my products to be the next best thing to actually getting off myself. You know how I've been deprived of all sexual fulfilment all these years - this is the nearest I could get. Until that day in the Regent St. store. And you wonder why I bought you a car? For fuck's sake, Julia, I'd have bought you a mansion if I'd known where you'd like to live!"
I was awe-struck. "Have you been watching me at all the launch parties?" I asked.
Linda looked down momentarily, indicating guilt and shame. Then she looked up at me coyly, seeking forgiveness. "Yes Julia. I can't keep my eyes off you. I'm sorry."
I didn't know what to think.
"Did you see me with Stevie when we 'scissored' together?" I asked. Linda nodded.
"And when Abigail & Vikki put on that bondage pole-show for me?" She confirmed that she had.
"But what about the Look, Don't Touch rule? If you're watching all this stuff going on, why don't you take some action?" I challenged.
"OK, so how do I explain to the dems that I know what goes on - admit that I'm spying on them? They'd never trust me again," came her swift reply.
I looked at her nonplussed. "But you are spying on them!"
"I'm not!" Linda retorted. "I'm watching them for my own gratification, not to check upon them. Anyway, the Dems are very clever. They stretch the rules close to breaking point but almost never overstep the mark, and only with very loyal and trusted clients. Think about what Abigail & Vikki did, did they actually touch each other's genitals? Or yours?"
I shook my head and confirmed: "Sadly not."
Linda was right. But she doesn't know about me and Kirsten. Does she?
As we had been talking, Linda had been idly flicking through the channels, flashing one empty room after another on the giant screen, but she stopped when the lights in Silver flicked on and the door opened. We both watched as Yasmin and Zöe walked in holding hands and locked the door behind them.
"What are they doing here this evening?" I enquired, "there's no show tonight"
Yasmin and Zöe started to kiss each other's cheeks and necks.
"We do allow some valued clients to use the rooms at other times," she continued, "for example, to change after work before going to the theatre. Or to try on some Passionella products in a more private atmosphere than the store outlets."
Yasmin was wearing a lace-up Gypsy-style top and suede skirt with a raw jagged hemline. Zöe was wearing a bomber jacket over a cropped tee-shirt with matching denim jeans. She undid the poppers on her jacket and shrugged it off, tossing it onto a nearby sofa; she obviously wore nothing under her top. It clung enticingly over, around and under the rounded muscular curves of her firm breasts and I could clearly see her nipples poking little peaks through the white stretch cotton fabric. And her jeans were definitely not chain-store own-brand.
"Shouldn't they be accompanied by a Passionella employee?" I quizzed further.
Linda confirmed that indeed they should and that no-one would have given them a key without ensuring that a staff member would be there too. "Someone will be joining them soon, I'm sure," she reassured me. "Here, sit down and watch, we'll make sure they do."
Yasmin and Zöe snogged passionately and pressed their clothed bodies together.
"I can't imagine how any Passionella employee could help them with what they seem to want to do," I observed, "these two are so tactile and so extrovert; they always draw a lot of attention at launch parties. I can't keep my eyes off them."
The two tall young women were obviously already hot for each other before they'd arrived and Yasmin's hands were soon all over Zöe, clawing at her breasts. Then she dropped to her knees, slowly dragged down the zipper on her friend's jeans and nuzzled her face in her crotch. Zöe dug her fingers into her hair and pressed her face harder into her most special place. Yasmin hooked her fingers into the waistband of Zöe's designer-denims and pulled them down around her ankles, preventing her from opening her legs very wide. But she still managed to nestle her chin between Zöe's thighs and looked to be nibbling her pussy, like it was a tasty piece of ripe fresh fruit, through the fabric of her leopard-print pants.
Linda and I continued to watch in silence as Zöe pulled her short crop-top over her head and cupped her own naked breasts. She tipped her head right back so her naturally wild and tousled hair fell down her back. She had her mouth open wide and her eyes tight shut so she did not see another door at the far side of the room swing open. I looked at Linda but she did not appear surprised or alarmed, simply asking me if I recognised the new entrant. I didn't, as she was wearing a highly-decorated mask and an all-in-one silver glossy cat-suit that accentuated her curvaceous body. Then the new participant turned her back to the camera and I realised it was Rachel; her long, voluminous hair hung down her back all but concealing the zipper of her high-neck, long-sleeved cat-suit.
"Rachel?" I suggested. Linda nodded.
Rachel was holding several white leather belts in one hand and in the other a short, thin stick not unlike a conductor's baton, with which she tapped Yasmin on the shoulder. Immediately she sat back on her haunches and Zöe opened her eyes in surprise, but smiled when she saw the totally-encased form of Rachel standing behind her amorous friend.
Rachel motioned Zöe towards the chrome and white leather recliner chair at the far end of the room; Linda hit a keyboard key and the camera angle changed so we could see her.
Zöe relaxed back in the chair and Yasmin stood facing her at her feet. Rachel picked up a small box not unlike a home-entertainment system remote control and stood at Zöe's head. Slowly the chair tipped back and the leg-rests raised Zöe's feet off the floor then swung aside, parting her legs slightly. Zöe lay with her head propped against the headrest and placed her hands on her thighs.
As if to signal 'ready', Rachel raised her baton and Yasmin started to dance. She moved slowly and deliberately, swishing her gypsy clothes and running her hands through her hair. As she danced, Rachel moved around to Zöe's side and passed a belt around one ankle and secured it to the leg-support of the recliner chair. Then she strapped Zöe's upper thigh to the chair and repeated her task on her other side. Yasmin continued to gyrate as Rachel secured a longer belt around Zöe's waist and behind the chair-back and another one around her chest above her pert breasts so only her head and her arms were now free
Rachel stood back as Yasmin started to untie the lace-up front-fastening of her top, deliberately unthreading each individual criss-cross one-by-one whilst constantly watching her restrained partner.
I was becoming impatient and Linda was shifting uneasily on her seat and we both sighed deeply when Yasmin finally pulled open her top and slipped it back off her shoulders. Underneath was revealed a classic Passionella deep-blue bra with black appliqué decoration. Linda whispered the exact style and stock number under her breath.
As Yasmin let her gypsy top drop to the floor, Zöe moved her hands from her thighs and placed them on her abdomen, with her fingers just on the top edge of her leopard-design pants. Yasmin unbuckled the belt around the waist of her suede skirt and passed it to Rachel who buckled it around her own waist, rather like a cricket umpire ties a player's jumper around his middle by its sleeves. But this was not a game of cricket - this was something more serious and much, much more exciting to watch. Yasmin's skirt dropped to the floor to expose matching blue-and-appliqué hipster pants and gorgeous legs that reached all the way down to her sparkle high-heeled shoes.
Zöe had her hands on her pussy mound as Yasmin danced some more and adopted ever more provocative poses, obviously to Zöe's great enjoyment. She touched the tips of her thumbs together on the top edge of her pants and rubbed the first two fingers of each hand up and down her crotch. Simultaneously, Rachel teased her nipples turn-by-turn with the end of her baton, making them point skywards from their puckered, taught areolae.
Rachel then walked around to stand behind Yasmin, from where she unclipped her bra. She slipped the straps off her shoulders with her stick and Yasmin allowed it to fall to the floor. Her large, wide and obviously surgically-enhanced breasts protruded proudly from her chest and barely moved as she danced. I commented to Linda how I failed to understand what men see in bulging, implanted breasts. Linda nodded in agreement but did not take her eyes off the screen for a moment.
Zöe wriggled and strained against her restraints as she rubbed her pussy mound more urgently whilst her accomplice performed a captivating topless show, then turned her back on Zöe. Bending forward and pushing her bum towards Zöe, Yasmin slowly edged her pants over her hips and down her thighs to her ankles where she left them, moving her high-heeled feet as far apart as the pants would allow. Her pussy lips peeped tentatively out from between her thighs and Zöe slipped her hands inside her own pants, making a little tent with her knuckles.
Rachel rapped the backs of her hands with her baton and Zöe immediately pulled them out of her pants, pouting at Rachel like a spoiled schoolgirl. But Yasmin continued to tease her, kicking off her pants and opening her legs wider. She gyrated her hips at Zöe, shuffling backwards so her knees were between Zöe's feet that were held apart, still securely fastened to the chair.
Rachel pressed a button on her control box. Zöe's feet spread wider and Yasmin moved further back so her bum was right above Zöe's pussy. Zöe she reached out her hands to touch it but again, Rachel rapped her knuckles and she pulled back.
Linda and I glanced at each other for a second then looked back at the screen to feast our eyes on the unfolding spectacle.
Next, Yasmin placed her hands on her bum cheeks with her fingers outstretched. Looking over her shoulder so she could watch Zöe's reaction, she pulled her cheeks apart so her pussy opened and pouted at her captive audience of one. Not surprisingly, Zöe thrust her fingers inside her pants and frigged herself frantically. But Rachel brought her baton down hard onto the backs of her wrists to signal 'stop', then took hold one of her forearms and secured it to the armrest of the recliner with a short belt. Walking to the other side of the chair, Rachel strapped Zöe's other arm to the chair, unquestionably now preventing her from stimulating herself.
Zöe's face was peppered with beads of perspiration which sparkled under the high-intensity recessed downlighters. Yasmin turned to face her victim and motioned to Rachel, who pressed another button and raised the whole chair so Zöe's pussy was level with Yasmin's waist, with her head slightly higher and tilted forward. Yasmin then teasingly caressed all over her own naked body with her hands, covering her abdomen, her thighs, her hips, her bum then back round to her breasts. She squeezed and cupped them, she rolled her nipples between her fingers and thumbs and pulled then into distended, fiery peaks. Zöe pulled against her straps but her struggles were futile whilst her still-covered pussy was obviously the focus of her attention.
Rachel pressed buttons which caused the leg-rests of the chair to open even wider apart and the whole chair to lift higher so Zöe's swollen, leopard-shrouded pussy-mound was presented to Yasmin like an gift-offering to a visiting tribal chief. Yasmin responded by running her fingers up and down the insides of Zöe's thighs, making her flinch and tense her leg muscles each time her friend's hands came close to her sensitive place. Then, at the end of one up-stroke, Yasmin continued onto Zöe's pussy, grazing her fingers over the fabric of her partner's animal pants. Zöe closed her eyes and opened her mouth wide. Linda and I could only guess what she might have said but it seemed to encourage Yasmin.
She placed her hands at the very top of Zöe's inner thighs and described small circles over the crotch of her pants with her thumbs, all the while staring into the eyes of her subject. Zöe rocked her hips as much as her restraints would allow, which was very little, to try to magnify the effect of Yasmin's teasing strokes. But just as her facial expression indicated that this was having the desired effect, Yasmin took away her hands.
Zöe looked totally distraught.
Rachel seemed to know what to do next and she lowered Zöe's head and upper body so she was horizontal but with her legs high in the air. Yasmin stood next to her and leaned forward, planting a huge kiss on her lips. Then she cupped one of her own breasts in both hands, bending forward and lowering her erect nipple within reach of Zöe's mouth. Immediately, Zöe wrapped her lips around it, drawing it into her mouth and sucking in her cheeks. Yasmin proffered her other nipple and soon this too re-emerged, wet with saliva and drawn into a long, protruding teat. Then, in an uncharacteristically tender move, Yasmin reciprocated and suckled on her friend's nipples, having a similar effect on them.
Yasmin made hand movements to signify 'down' and Rachel pressed buttons again. The chair tilted some more until its captive occupant's head was about two feet above the floor; Yasmin turned her back towards Zöe's head and placed her hands on Rachel's shoulders for support.
I was becoming highly aroused by the images on the screen and looked at Linda, puzzled as to what might happen next. Linda had her hands in her lap, but nodded towards the display to signal 'watch'. I moved my chair closer to the screen.
Yasmin squatted over Zöe's face and gently lowered herself until her pussy was right over her mouth. Because of the camera position, Linda and I could only guess exactly what was happening but Yasmin was enraptured by it. She dug her fingers into Rachel's shoulders and tilted her pelvis forward. She rocked her hips in short rapid movements and threw back her head. There was no mistaking her orgasm when it came and her knees barely had the strength to support her. She stood motionless for a few moments, her pussy now raised just a few inches above Zöe's mouth. Her sex-liquid oozed from her vagina and traced a sticky path down to her friend's face. Zöe licked and lapped her lips with long lashes of her tongue, consuming the come-juice from her satisfied sitter.
This was the first time I had watched a woman lick another woman's pussy. Even though I was not in the same room, I had witnessed a highly passionate and fulfilling lesbian sex act 'live'. I realised at that moment that my life would not be complete until I had performed this service on another woman and had experienced the same sexual act on my own craving pussy. This confirmed the feeling that I had recognised, but immediately suppressed, when Kirsten and I recently spent that memorable Saturday night together. I wanted to lick pussy. Badly.
When she dismounted from Zöe's face, Yasmin gestured to Rachel who raised the chair into a much more comfortable position. Zöe's moist face displayed an expression of pleasure mixed with anguish and pleading, and her friend did not ignore the message it sent. Yasmin pulled Zöe's pants down as far as her restraints would allow and inserted a hand between her legs. Slowly at first but building speed, Yasmin frigged and rubbed and circled and caressed and invaded, obviously inserting one or more of her fingers into Zöe's vaginal opening. Reaching up with her free hand, Yasmin wiped the perspiration from Zöe's brow and stroked her cheek, smoothing away some sticky liquid then a little later planted several tender kisses on her lips.
Still unable to move much, Zöe twitched and writhed until she too showed all the outward signs of a climax building then consuming her, visibly tensing and then relaxing virtually every muscle in her body.
Almost immediately, Rachel raised the chair into a conventional sitting position and released all of the leather belts. Rachel helped Zöe to her feet and Yasmin embraced her warmly. I felt immensely privileged to have watched such an explicit lesbian love act and even more thrilled that I'd been an unseen voyeur.
I looked around to see Linda's reaction, but she had disappeared.
I waited a few moments, feeling desperately horny. Had Linda deliberately left me alone so I could masturbate in privacy? I'd only need less than a minute. She must have noticed how excited I'd become from watching Yasmin & Zöe getting it on, and as I looked back at the screen, Rachel had already released Zöe from the chair and was readjusting it as the two friends embraced passionately.
I lifted my skirt and was about to slip a finger inside my panties when I heard a voice call: "No, don't. There's something else I want to show you."
Linda's unmistakable voice came from a small anteroom that opened off her main office. I pulled down my skirt feeling slightly sheepish and glanced in that direction.
In walked a woman I hardly recognised.
She was the exact same height and build as Linda, but it couldn't be her. This woman approached me in a slow, very sexy fashion-model style of walk. Her hair was the right colour but was pulled up in a tight ponytail high on the back of her head that swished as she walked. She wore very dark heavily-applied maroon-red lipstick that matched her dress, which was very tight and made from a stretchy, almost rubber-like material the same colour as her lips and with the same glossy shine. It was very short, exposing most of her smooth bare legs. Its top was cut halter-style, very low at the back and with a wide, deep plunging vee neckline at the front. She obviously wasn't wearing a bra and her breasts were squeezed together so they swelled out of their tight maroon cocoon.
She wore high black stiletto shoes, which she placed carefully on the floor exactly one in front of the other, and she wore a black choker around her long neck.
Linda looked stunningly sexy, like I'd never seen her before or could ever have imagined. She stood in front of me and drilled into me with her bright, clear blue eyes. They were filled with a confidence and an excitement that suggested that something special was about to happen.
It did.
"I've been practising," she announced. "Since our intimate rendezvous in the Regent Street changing rooms, I've been able to do things I haven't done for years. Watch me, Julia. Watch."
I did.
Linda ran her hands over her face, down her neck and over her covered breasts. She massaged them for a few moments then ran her fingertips down over her tummy; I noticed that her nipples were now clearly erect under her elastic dress. She moved her hands out to her hips and ran them up and down her thighs. She had her knees slightly bent and squeezed tightly together and she twisted from her waist, swivelling her hips provocatively. Her mouth was slightly open now but she continued to fix my gaze.
My eyes darted down to her body and back up to meet hers and she moistened her lips with her tongue, very slowly.
"Watch me, Julia," she purred again and reached her hands behind the back of her neck. Still gyrating her hips, she released the clasp of her halter-neck dress and peeled down the top, exposing her breasts. Her nipples, though small, were prominent and dark. I didn't remember them being so dark; had she rouged them? To draw attention to them, I wondered? She placed her hands over her boobs and massaged them some more then teased at her nipples, pulling them, rolling them and squeezing them, just as she'd asked me to do to mine in the changing rooms, until they jutted into long, lickable points.
Linda's cheeks were flushed and I was enjoying the show. I pressed my bum deep into the soft sofa and rubbed my pussy mound into the cushion. Right there, in the headquarters of the UK's most successful luxury lingerie retailer, I was watching its president do her stuff. Linda dropped her hands to her waist, hooked her thumbs inside her stretchy dress and wriggled out of it, kicking it into one corner of her office. Shame really, I rather liked her in that dress.
Linda stood in front of me virtually naked. All she was wearing was a very skimpy and tight-fitting G-string in smooth black satin fabric, with thin side straps that she pulled high on her hips. Then, holding those straps, she tugged the narrow strip of black fabric tight between her legs and ground her pussy hard against it. She had her eyes closed more than they were open by now and she moved in a very sensual way, walking away from me to the far side of the office whilst still pulling on her G-string. The single, narrow strap at the back had completely disappeared between her smooth arse cheeks and it must have felt terrific, pulled tight against her crotch as she walked.
With her back still to me, she placed her feet wide apart and bent down, showing just how small and tight her only remaining scrap of clothing actually was. Her rounded pussy bulged and pressed against the narrow triangle of satin, trying to escape around its sides. Linda grasped her ankles and looked at me around her left leg, with her ponytail trailing on the floor.
Then she stood up, turned and slowly, sensually, walked back to stand less than three feet in front of me. I was ecstatic and she was obviously enjoying the sensations in me that her movements caused.
Linda transferred her hands to the insides of her thighs and ran her fingers up and down her pale soft flesh, each time stopping closer to her crotch. Finally, looking deep into my eyes, she cupped her right hand over her pussy mound.
"Oh, Linda," I whispered, "Go on."
She did. She gently caressed her pussy with her fingers through the thin material of her G-string, all that lay between skin and soft, pink skin.
Linda then straightened one leg and lifted the other knee, placing a stiletto-encased foot on the arm of the sofa right next to where I was sitting. Her upper legs were now wide apart and the enticing curls of her pubic hair emerged from either side of its inadequate black concealment. Her G-string pulled into folds and had already worked its way into her slit. Linda rubbed her pussy harder and faster through its near-useless covering and she ran her fingers along the soft peaches of her outer labia that emerged beyond their modest protection.
"Do it, Linda, " I moaned in encouragement, glancing across to the plasma screen to see Rachel laying on the recliner with her legs strapped together and rubbing not one but two vibrators over her shiny cat-suited breasts.
Still with one foot high on the arm of my sofa, Linda hooked a finger inside the narrow piece of black satin material between her legs and pulled it to one side, exposing the hot, pink wetness of her inner pussy lips. Then she placed the fingers of her other hand over her gaping slit and moved them in small circles. Her sweet, heady aroma filled my nostrils signifying her high state of arousal, and my own pussy responded by sending a fresh wave of excitement through my nervous system.
On the screen, Zöe was standing behind Yasmin at the foot of the recliner. She had one hand cupped over Yasmin's left breast whilst the other hand reached around her waist and guided a vibrator into her vagina. Yasmin was grinding her bum into Zöe's crotch and Rachel was watching the girl-girl action whilst jabbing the other vibrator between the tops of her silver-sheathed legs.
Linda was having trouble keeping her balance now. Her breathing was fast and shallow, so was mine. From such close range, I clearly saw her slip a fingertip into the opening of her vagina and slide it out, coated with her juices. She slid that same finger up her gash, between her inner labial lips, which by now were swollen and spread wide apart, and onwards to her clit. Her body convulsed.
Still holding her G-string to one side with the other hand, she frigged herself with her moistened fingertip. Round and round she rubbed, faster and faster; I could hear the glorious squelchy sound of a well-juiced-up pussy receiving the kind of close physical attention it craved.
"This is for you, Julia. Watch me," she cried. "See what I'm doing. I can do it. This is what I wanted to show you. See it's for real, Julia! Watch me come, Julia!!"
And she did.
Linda placed one hand on my shoulder to steady herself as her body stiffened and shook. She threw her head back so her ponytail swished over her bare back and she pushed back her shoulders. Her breasts jutted out proudly from her chest and her dark nipples pointed upwards as though showing their appreciation to an applauding audience. The muscles of her inner thighs convulsed uncontrollably with each wave of her orgasm and she moaned in deep, satisfying pleasure.
Linda continued to rub her clit until the sensations had receded then she looked down at me. She pulled her G-string back over her dark, glistening pubic hair (which it struggled to conceal as her pussy was still so swollen) slipped off her shoes and lay back on the opposite sofa to get back her breath.
She smiled warmly across the coffee table and spoke softly. "I wanted to prove to you, and to myself, that I've overcome the first hurdle. I can now touch myself and can bring myself to orgasm."
I smiled back and she continued, in a weak and wavering voice: "I've never done that in front of anyone else, not even when I was at school. Take that as a compliment; an indication of just how sexy I find you and how much trust I place in you."
I didn't know quite what to say, so I just shrugged and said 'Thanks'. Pretty unimaginative really. I was confused but also feeling super-horny for Linda. But I didn't feel that I could just get my rocks off right there in her office although I didn't want to simply make my excuses and leave.
Linda salvaged the situation. Clambering back into her day clothes, she asked me to promise not to mention her performance to anyone as, at this stage in her rehab, she wasn't ready to handle any reaction from friends and colleagues.
"However," she concluded, "I've still got a long way to go. Are you willing to help me through the next stage?"
I thought what that might be. The list was short:
1) Make love to a man? Not much I could do to help with that one.
2) Make love with a woman? I was a mere novice myself but I'd give it a go if that were what she wanted.
3) Masturbate in front of colleagues or clients? Why would she need my help?
Looks like it's no. 2 then! "Yes, Linda, what ever you want, within what's legal and reasonable." I confirmed.
Linda changed the subject abruptly. "When can we talk about my New Strategy letter? Same restaurant, same time next week OK?"
I'd completely forgotten about Linda's letter but I was free that evening and looked forward to being involved in Passionella's future plans. I also suspected an ulterior motive. Why did Linda want to meet me alone in the evening when we could easily have e-mailed each other or met during the day? Actually, I was quite excited and surmised that the meeting may well lead to the removing some items of clothing, or more.
"Would you like me to bring anything, or maybe wear anything in particular?" I asked, hoping this might give some indication of what she had in mind.
"No, just dress 'smart casual', she replied. "And don't forget to give some serious thought to my strategy and come along prepared to discuss any input you have."
Maybe I'd misunderstood and this was to be a serious business meeting rather than a sex-therapy encounter.
***************************************************
Hi, I hope you're enjoying my story! In my next chapter, I get to spend some more time with Linda and put my training into practice.
Please write a review if you've enjoyed reading this chapter. Or send me an e-mail and tell me what you like – it's easy, just click on my author link above (Julie<->Julia) and I'll reply to all mails. I'll also let you know when my next chapters are posted. If you prefer, send me a BDSM Library private message – just click the same link. Thanks to all of you who have already posted reviews or sent messages and to all of you who are following my story as it unfolds.
Note that the BDSM Library story codes apply to the whole story (about 150,000 words) not just this chapter. Be patient, take care, stay safe, have fun.
x Julia
|
|
|