Nikki Blaise's Blog

Download my FREE ebook to read my first ten stories on your Kindle or other ereader.   



Dear readers:


Book One is still available as a free download on Smashwords. Book Two is now out and is available for purchase on both Smashwords and Amazon:


Book Two on Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/83238


Book Two on Amazon: http://www.amazon.co.uk/My-Life-Sex-Gram-ebook/dp/B005IYY0CM


See below for a sneak preview of what's coming up in Book Three. Available to read in full for one day only.




____________________________



Anyone who has been to London knows that the Underground is an absolute nightmare at busy times. Sometimes the carriages are so full you cannot physically squeeze another person onto them. I have frequently been on trains where I am pressed up against someone’s armpit or back. No one speaks to anyone, unless a group gets on together, then it’s like they compensate for everyone else’s reticence by making as much noise as possible – or maybe it just seems that way to the rest of the passengers. But otherwise, there is generally silence, except for the tinny “ts-ts-ts” of music coming through earbuds. We Brits don’t talk to strangers, except an eccentric few, who gabble away to whoever they sit next to, who in turn smiles politely and uncomfortably, and breathes a silent sigh of relief when the chatterer gets off.


This one day I was coming home from central London. I hadn’t been working – I’d had a friend over for a visit and was taking her to Euston to see her off. I’d done a bit of window-shopping afterwards and forgot the time – stupidly got myself stuck in rush hour traffic.


So there I was, getting gradually pushed further and further back in the carriage as more work-weary commuters got on, filling the increasingly limited space with briefcases and laptop bags. The lucky, seated ones hid behind newspapers and avoided eye contact so they didn’t have to feel guilty about having a seat. Hot bodies pressed against me on all sides; one woman’s flabby bingo wings pressed against my upper arms and a tall man elbowed me in the chest as he lifted his hand to hold onto the grab rail. The train started and I lurched backwards into someone behind me, who caught me agilely. I glanced back to say a brief thank you for his quick instincts and found myself staring, dry-mouthed, at one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen. He wasn’t especially tall, maybe 5’ 10” or so, Mediterranean in appearance, with thick black wavy hair and deep brown eyes. His tan stood out shockingly against his bright white t-shirt and his muscled arms held me steady as I just gazed into his eyes. A smile appeared on his delectable mouth, and I looked away, heat flooding my face.


“Thank you,” I managed to mumble, pulling away from him and holding onto the nearest rail.


“Prego,” he said, inclining his head in a slight bow. I must have looked blank because he elaborated with a heavily-accented, “You’re welcome.”


I turned away from him, surprised and a little amused at the intensity of my physical reaction to him. I see men every day. I have sex with men pretty much every day. I don’t usually feel like this from a single look. More people crowded onto the carriage at the next station, and the one after that until I was forced still further back into him. His body heat made me tremble. I wasn’t quite pressed against him but there couldn’t have been more than a centimetre between us. I could hear him breathing into my hair. I wondered what would happen if I closed that final minuscule gap between us, and pressed my body up against his, pushing my bottom into his crotch and my back against his chest. Would he be offended? Maybe he was married, or had a girlfriend. I wasn’t used to wondering if a man wanted me or not; it was usually a given. I closed my eyes and inhaled his closeness.


I jumped half a mile into the air when I felt a warm hand on my waist.


“Shh,” he said in my ear, gentling me with a slow stroke of his thumb on my back. He placed his other hand on the other side of my waist and pulled me gently backwards towards him. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back onto his chest. He rested his cheek on my hair and inhaled. I felt his hands moving infinitesimally slowly on my waist, stroking, caressing. I shivered as he moved his hands around to my stomach and stretched his thumbs up to trace the outline of my bottom rib. His fingers traced circles on my belly and his thumbs reached still higher to graze the underside of my breasts. He shifted behind me and I felt a long firmness pressing into me from behind.


Of course, this man thought I was a normal girl, one who could well turn round and slap his face for daring to touch her. How long could I drag this out for? I wondered, with a little inward smile.


I kept very still, not giving him any encouragement, but also not pulling away, which itself was encouragement enough. Very slowly the Italian trailed his thumbs along the lower curve of my breasts. I glanced down at my cleavage, girded up to maximum with the padded bra I was wearing to further enhance my already ample assets. I knew he was looking down my top over my shoulder – he had a perfect view. I could feel he was starting to get excited now – he took firm hold of my hips and pulled me back into him, pushing his erection into my lower back.


My own breath was starting to come more raggedly, but I stayed motionless, letting him do what he pleased. He seemed to relax for a moment, leaving his hands on my hips and taking a deep breath, as if to calm himself.


Il Italiano inched his hands up and under my top. The touch of his hot hands on the bare flesh on my waist sent tingles to every extremity. I desperately wanted to turn round and grab his cock. I wanted him to rip off my clothes and fuck me, right there on the filthy carriage floor. I bit my lower lip till the sting brought me back to my senses. The guys that book me aren’t big on foreplay, which is usually fine. But I was determined to enjoy this.


He left his hands on my bare waist for several minutes, just stroking my bare skin and nuzzling into my hair. Then, one hand started to explore. Very slowly, millimetre by tantalising millimetre, it began to descend down past the hem of my skirt until just a fingertip landed on my thigh. Butterfly-light, it began to trace circles on my skin. When I didn’t object to that, it continued back and round, continuing to inscribe patterns on the back of my thigh. The finger snuck under my skirt and drew an invisible line on the crease between buttock and leg, making me weak-kneed with longing. My pussy was beginning to throb and I had to stop myself very firmly from pushing my cunt onto his hand.


He began to murmur into my ear, quiet words in Italian. The only word I recognised was, “Bellissima,” everything else was a jumble. He could have been calling me anything for all I knew. The exploring fingertip was joined by its fellows and now both hands were flat on my ass cheeks, squeezing and kneading.


Then I felt that impertinent finger again, sliding behind the string of my thong. Teasingly at first, it moved slowly up and down – I could feel it tickling, so close, so close, then pulling away. I knew my thong was wet from my juices – he rubbed it between his finger and thumb, then pulled away unexpectedly. In my peripheral vision, I saw him lift his finger and thumb to his nose and inhale.


The fingers returned. One hand moved my thong aside and the other ventured between my thighs, cupping my entire pussy. I glanced around. No one was watching. Everyone else in the carriage was glassy-eyed, staring into nothing, or busy prodding at flashing, beeping bits of technology, those with iPads sneering at those with iPhones, who in turn looked down on those who only had Blackberries. The front of my skirt hid the activity at the back. No one was paying attention.


I inhaled sharply as Il Italiano began to move his long middle finger around my pussy area, touching and teasing my slick flesh. I longed to feel his cock inside me – but a finger would have to do. Despite my resolution not to, I pushed down on him ever so slightly – it was all the invitation he needed. He slipped two fingers up inside me, moving them around, pressing hard up towards my belly button. I smothered a moan and shut my eyes as the middle finger slipped out again and teased my clit gently before slipping back in and finger-fucking me firmly. I ground my teeth in frustration as he teased and touched, rubbing my clit almost to the point of cumming before diving back inside. I couldn’t speak – couldn’t tell him to fuck me right now – I just had to endure it.


I opened my eyes and happened to catch the glance of another young guy who was standing further over in the carriage. He had a smirk on his face that told me he knew exactly what was going on. His eyes dropped to the point at which my ass was backed up against Il Italiano’s crotch and when he looked back at me I knew I was meant to see it. I knew that he knew that I knew that he knew! I looked at the bulge in his crotch. At least he was enjoying himself.


Il Italiano’s fingers resumed their teasing of my clit and, with difficulty, I schooled my face to a blank expression. This time his long middle finger was joined by his fore-finger and the two fingers alternately kneaded my clit, like a kitten’s paws on its mother. I looked at the other guy right in the eyes, staring him down as Il Italiano made me cum right there in the middle of the crowded carriage. I spasmed and felt myself squirting all over his hand. My hand flailed behind me and grabbed a handful of belt and denim, clutching his jeans waistband in an attempt to stay upright as my orgasm ripped through me. Despite my best efforts, a tiny involuntary mew escaped my mouth, but the train was making so much noise I was drowned out. Certainly no one looked round. When he sensed my tremors had stopped, he withdrew his fingers, replacing his hands firmly on my hips as if to say, “You’re not going anywhere!”


I had no intention of going anywhere. I still wanted to feel his cock and to give him the same pleasure he had given me.


People had started to get off now as we headed out into surburbia. The crowd in the carriage thinned. Il Italiano and I stayed where we were, as did the young guy who had been watching us. I could still feel his erection undiminished, pressing into me from behind. As soon as the last remaining straggler had left, I bent over, held onto the grab rails and looked back at Il Italiano with my best “take me now” expression.


He looked from me to the other guy and back again, raising his eyebrows in surprised query. I smiled my encouragement and waggled my hips at him. He quickly unzipped his jeans and released the hard-on I had been craving for the past twenty minutes. Flipping up my skirt, he slid it into my wet and needy pussy with a groan, reaching one hand around to cup my breasts as he pumped me rapidly, murmuring in Italian the whole time.


The feel of that long Italian cock inside me was divine. I closed my eyes and reached down to play with my still-tender clit, bracing myself against the rail with my other hand. He said something in a chiding tone of voice and pushed my hand away, replacing it with his own. He rubbed me harder as he fucked me; I held onto the rail with both hands, pushing back to meet him. I could feel it coming, and this time I could be noisy.


“Fuck me, oh God yes!” I gasped as he thrust faster and harder. His fingers moved convulsively on my clit and I shuddered again and again, letting out all those noises I had kept in last time. The carriage echoed with my orgasm followed by loud Italian sex words as, all restraint gone, he held hard onto my hips and pounded me with one last barrage before subsiding behind me with a sigh.


I could see the other guy standing waiting for his turn, but no sooner had Il Italiano zipped himself away than the carriage doors opened and a family got on.


I sat down on one of the many vacant seats, feeling his hot Italian cum dripping down onto the seat beneath me. The other guy stood glaring daggers at me, which wasn’t really fair. It wasn't my fault the family had got on, and I hadn’t offered him sex anyway. Tooting Bec station was up next – my stop. I stood up to leave, prompting a, “Ciao bella!” from Il Italiano. I gave him a smile and stepped off, disconcerted to see the other guy following me.


“Hey!” he called as I made my way swiftly up the platform. I didn’t turn round. “Hey, slut!” he called again, running to catch up with me. He grabbed my arm and spun me round. “So what’s your game?” he said, a sneer on his face as he looked me up and down. “Is it my turn now?”


“I don’t think so!” I said, wrenching my arm away.


“Not good enough for you, am I? You’ll fuck him on a train, but not me?”


“That’s right,” I said, glancing about for assistance. The platform was deserted. I had no choice but to make a sprint for the escalators.


“Oh no you don’t!” he said, making a lunge for my arm. I pulled away and ran for it, sprinting up the escalators. I was half way up when I stumbled and fell, grazing my leg on the escalator step. Blood trickling down my shin, I limped up the remaining steps, but he was gaining on me. I mustered all my energy. I might not have been wearing my running shoes but I ran at least three miles every day – I could certainly outrun this muppet. I dashed out of the station and across the road, diving into The Wheatsheaf. I made it to the Ladies, deliberately standing at the door until I saw him come in and look around for me. As soon as I knew he had spotted me, I gave him a nonchalant little wave and disappeared through the door, locking it behind me.


Once safe inside the Ladies, I checked the graze on my shin, washing off the blood with a wad of sodden toilet paper. It was long but not too bad – I made a pad of some dry folded toilet paper and stuck it to my knee, using the blood itself as an adhesive.


A banging on the door made me jump. “You can’t hide in there forever!” came the angry snarl from outside.


“Wanna bet?” I called back.


I got out my phone, typing, “RU anywhere near Tooting Bec?” and sending it to my friend Mark, who just happens to be a policeman and my occasional booty call.


“Give me ten mins. Wassup babe?” came the reply.


“Trying to shake off an idiot. I’m in the Ladies in the Wheatsheaf.”


“OK – be there soonest.”


It wasn't even ten minutes before a text came through. “I’m outside. Want me to arrest him?”


“No, just scare him a bit,” I sent back. I let myself out of the Ladies. Sure enough, he was still hovering outside, glowering at the world. As soon as I came out, he came close to me, pressing me against the wall and stopping me leaving.


“Listen, if you don’t let me go, you’ll be sorry!” I said, letting a pretend shiver of fear enter my voice. I saw Mark approaching quietly over his shoulder, looking edible in his uniform.


“You’re the one who’ll be sorry, you prick-teasing little cunt,” he growled, running a rough hand down my body and looking down my cleavage.


A second later he found himself grabbed and slammed against the wall next to me. “No, I think the lady was right!” Mark said, twisting his arm behind his back.


“What are you doing, mate? She’s my girlfriend. We’re just having a bit of a row,” he protested immediately. My whole face contorted with amused horror at the enormity of the lie.


“Funny that, as she’s MY girlfriend!” Mark said, giving an extra twist to the arm. My stomach gave a funny little jolt when I heard Mark describe me as his girlfriend.


“Really? Well, it looks like she’s cheating on both of us then. She’s not worth it mate – she’s just a fucking slut!” he gasped out.


“Do you want me to arrest him, sweetheart?” he said, looking at me with a wink.


“No, just leave it,” I said, with a sniff.


“All right – you can go. This time!” Mark said with a glower.


“Seriously, mate, she’s cheating on you. I saw her fuck some guy on the tube right in front of me.” This last he said with a giant smirk, looking right at me, clearly thinking he had dropped me in it with my copper boyfriend.


I gasped hugely and brought all my acting talents to bear. “Oh, what a huge lie,” I said, screwing up my face as if I was about to cry and let a sob enter my voice. “I didn’t! Sweetheart, I swear I didn’t. He’s making it up!”


“No I’m not, you bitch and you know it. You’re a cheating dirty whore and I hope he dumps you. I wouldn’t touch you – you’re probably riddled with the clap,” he said as a parting shot as he stood at the door. Mark held his arm out to me and I snuggled in close to his side.


“I didn’t. You do believe me, don’t you, honey!” I said, turning huge innocent eyes on Mark.


“Of course I do, baby,” he said, dropping a kiss on my hair.


The guy shook his head in despair and let the door slam as he left.


“Need a lift?” Mark said, taking my hand as we walked towards the exit.


“Wouldn’t mind,” I said.


“So, did you fuck some guy on a train?” he said as he drove me the mile to the flat.


“Might’ve.” I shrugged, meeting his amused glance in the rear view mirror.


“You are such a bad girl!” he said, shaking his head.


“And that’s why you love me!” I twinkled.


“It certainly is!”

Download my FREE ebook to read my first ten stories on your Kindle or other ereader.   

Dear readers:

Book One is still available as a free download on Smashwords. Book Two is now out and is available for purchase on both Smashwords and Amazon:

Book Two on Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/83238

Book Two on Amazon: http://www.amazon.co.uk/My-Life-Sex-Gram-ebook/dp/B005IYY0CM

See below for a sneak preview of what's coming up in Book Three. Available to read in full for one day only.


____________________________

I sat in the packed waiting room, legs crossed. It was the middle of the day and it was wall-to-wall with ill humanity. The smell of BO and piss hung in the air. Across from me, a frazzled young mum was trying to physically restrain her son from kicking the reception desk.
“Pack it in!” she said in a forceful whisper, dragging him across the floor and depositing him firmly on the seat next to her.  He promptly jumped off again and began making car noises, driving himself around the heaving room, arousing a chorus of disapproving tuts from purple-permed ladies as he trampled over their mammoth handbags, which jutted out into the spaces between the rows of chairs.
The door opened in a whirl of wind and sideways rain and everyone looked up. A damp tramp came in and stood for a moment in the middle of the room, staring around him.
“Errr, you stink! Pooh!” declared the little boy, looking at the old man before holding his small nose with dirty fingers.
“Jasper! Don’t be rude!” The mum grabbed his hand and hauled him once more to her side. Jasper was right, though. The old man’s smell quickly filled the too-small room and I noticed several people putting hands to noses and coughing not so politely. 
I half expected the receptionists to usher the tramp out, but he apparently had an appointment as he was invited to take a seat, which he did with evident relief, settling himself down in the midst of a sea of “Please, no not me!” expressions.
I tried to breathe through my mouth and closed my eyes, wishing I’d never taken this job. I’d already been waiting twenty minutes. The bleeper bleeped and every pair of eyes flicked up to the display which showed the name of the next person to go in. It said “Janine McDonald – Room 5.” It took me a moment to remember that that was the fictitious name I had been told to book myself in under. I jumped up, trying not to seem too relieved and made my way down the corridor, as indicated by the hand-lettered signs on the peeling walls.
Room 5 was a standard doctor’s surgery – desk, curtained-off examination table, cupboards, drawers, and a doctor of course. He was an average-looking middle-aged man, greying hair neatly trimmed, with glasses over which he was peering at me.
“Ah yes,” he said, with a hint of a smile. “If you’d like to go behind the curtain and pop your clothes off, that’d be great. My colleague will be joining us shortly.”
I shrugged and went behind the green curtains, drawing them closed behind me. I stripped, sat on the examination table and waited. The door opened and I could hear the murmur of male greetings on the other side of the curtain. The door closed and there was silence but for the voices rapidly growing more distant outside the room as the men evidently walked away. Had they left me alone? I sat, naked and slightly puzzled, on the examination table, swinging my legs. 
I was staring around aimlessly at the bland walls when the door opened and closed again quietly and, shortly after, a movement caught my eye. Poking through the still-twitching curtains was a semi-erect cock. Here we go, I thought.  I knelt down on the scratchy carpet for only a second before grabbing the pillow off the examination table and putting it under my knees. No need to be uncomfortable. Thus suitably cushioned, I set to work. 
I took the anonymous cock into my hand, spitting on the end and running my fingers lightly up and down the warm shaft. I felt my pussy start to twitch. I touched my tongue lightly to the end of the cock, feeling it start to firm up. I tasted a drop of salt and heard a stifled groan from the other side of the curtain. I took the head of the cock into my mouth, running my tongue over the end, still slick with my spit. I held the shaft firmly in my hands, one hand reaching through the curtains for his balls. Encountering only a zip, I heard muffled shuffling as the unseen man hurriedly re-arranged his trousers to allow me access.
Cupping his freed balls in my hand, I began to gently play with them, while I ran my tongue up one side of his now-rigid member and down the other, adding a little moan for effect.  I moved my mouth back up to the head of the straining cock and gently slid my lips over the bulbous end, sucking firmly. I allowed him a little lick before pulling my mouth off again, with a smack of my lips from the suction. I felt him thrust anxiously through the curtains, clearly keen to get his cock back in my mouth and I allowed myself a little smile. I rubbed my hand hard up and down his cock for a second, before diving back in again, this time lowering my mouth just a little further down onto his cock than before, teasing the tip with my tongue and letting him thrust twice into my mouth before withdrawing once more, provoking a groan of frustration from behind the curtain.
I wondered if this one was only here for a blowjob, or if this was just a precursor to the real action. I decided to stop teasing and do the job – if he wanted to fuck me, he just had to say. I went back down, this time in earnest, taking his cock as deeply down my throat as I could, sucking hard and fast. I glanced up at the curtains but they were still clamped firmly together – it was a shame, I like seeing a guy’s face contorted with ecstasy as I suck his cock. The thrusting grew more urgent and I felt hands on my head through the curtain, holding me firmly in place as the man thrust his cock as deeply as he could in my mouth.
I sensed a change in the rhythm, a slight slowing and heard a gasped, “I’m coming,” from behind the curtain, and then he came, with a long groan and spurt after spurt of thick juice. He seemed to cum forever, filling my mouth. I struggled to hold it; some dribbled out of the corners of my mouth but still the hand held my head in place. I swallowed it all down and finally was permitted to release his limp cock when it seemed clear that he had finished. I heard him zip up his fly and I was tearing off some tissue paper to wipe my face when I heard the surgery door opening.
“Hey!” came a voice. “What are you doing in here?”
“I just came in to see if you had any spare sample pots,” came a smooth male reply.
“In that drawer there,” I heard the first man say tersely. My mind raced. Who the fuck had I just sucked off? At least I had got paid for the hour, no matter what, but I didn’t know what the deal was here. I heard a drawer open and close and the noise of plastic knocking together.
“Thanks,” said the smooth voice and I heard the door closing. I jumped onto the examination table and tucked the bunch of used tissue paper down the side of the table, just as the curtain was twitched aside. The doctor I had seen before and another, younger man stood there. He launched swiftly into the scenario, glancing at his watch.
“So, Miss McDonald, you’re here for a check-up, yes?”
“Er, yes,” I said, wondering whether to mention what had just happened.
“Well, we’ll begin with a full physical examination. Lie down please.”
I did as I was told, still distracted. The doctor wasted no time, running his fingers briefly up my legs before pushing them roughly into my pussy.
“I’ll just examine your breasts,” said the second man hastily, another doctor I presumed, before proceeding to grab me and knead my flesh perfunctorily. 
“Hmm, yes,” murmured the first doctor, still rummaging around inside my cunt. “I’ll need you the other way round, if you wouldn’t mind. Could you just jump off the bed and bend over.” He withdrew his fingers and I did as instructed. I heard the snap of vinyl gloves being pulled on behind me. I felt hands on my bottom, parting my cheeks, and then a lubricated finger slid into my ass.
“I just need to pop another one in here, if that’s OK?” he said briskly. I relaxed my muscles as a second finger slid in to join the first. Then I felt a thumb in my pussy, gently massaging the flesh between his fingers and thumb. I gasped with the sensations suddenly jolting through me. I looked at the second doctor, the one who had been “examining” my breasts and saw him watching avidly. I dropped my eyes to his crotch and saw the significant bulge there. I raised my eyes slowly back to his and looked at him lewdly, licking my lips ostentatiously. I moaned deliberately and pushed back onto the doctor’s fingers. He harrumphed and pushed harder, reaching round me with the other hand to caress my breasts, squashed against the table. I lifted my torso to allow him access, resting on my elbows, and he grabbed at them as they swung.
“Oh, doctor!” I exclaimed, deciding to move things along a little. “I know this is only an examination, but - the things you’re doing - they’re making me feel so very horny!” I stuck my ass in the air and looked back at him.
“Well, Miss McDonald, that’s highly inappropriate,” he growled, still fingering me firmly and pushing his trouser-clad erection into the back of my thigh.
“I know, Doctor,” I sighed. “I’m sorry – but I just can’t help it!”
“Hmm, well,” he said, withdrawing his fingers. “I just need to get something else to put in here.” I heard him unzip his trousers and felt his cock push against my pussy. It slid in and I let out a sigh, pushing myself back against him. He clamped his elbows against my sides and thrust rapidly, reminding me of nothing more than a ratty little dog my aunty once had who used to dry-hump my leg every time I went to visit.
“Well, this seems to be working perfectly,” he said breathlessly as he slammed into me. I cast doe-eyes at the second doctor who was still watching.
“I might be asking for a second opinion shortly,” I said directly to him with a wink. 
The first doctor had given up all pretence of examination and was muttering obscenities at me as he fucked me. “Dirty, dirty little girl,” I heard him say as he leaned forward, muttering in my ear. 
“Oh, doctor,” I said, with a flutter of my eyelashes and an inward roll of my eyes. He convulsed behind me and held very still for a moment before pulling out and quickly zipping himself up. He passed me some of the ubiquitous blue paper towel roll that all doctors have hanging on the walls. His cum dripped down my legs as I turned round and took the handful from him.
“Well, that all seems to be fine,” he said briskly, not meeting my eye. “If you’d just like to clean yourself up I think my colleague would like to examine you also before you go.”
The second doctor politely looked away as I wiped the paper towel over my pussy and caught the droplets racing each other to my knees. When I was ready I looked up again and caught his eye.
“Would you like to examine me, doctor,” I said, levering myself back up onto the examination table with my hands. He came over to me and leaned in very closely, looking down at my naked body.
“I would like to rape you,” he murmured in my ear. “Will you fight me?”
I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is,” he said, all business. “Get dressed, knock on the door of the next office in two minutes. Be a patient. The safe word is ‘Buttercup’.” He turned and left.
I put my clothes on quickly. The first doctor barely glanced at me as I came out from behind the curtained area and left his office. I knocked on the next door, suddenly unaccountably nervous.
“Come in,” I heard from inside. I entered. “Ah, Miss McDonald,” doctor two said. “Please, sit down.”
I sat on the chair opposite him. The name on the brass plate on his desk said Dr John Philips. There was a framed photograph on the desk with a picture of him with his arm round a pretty brunette holding a baby. I looked away. I knew that many of the men I saw were probably married, but I didn’t like to see such blatant evidence of it. John put down his pen and sat back in his chair.
“How can I help you today, Miss McDonald?”
“Well, I was out running and landed badly on my ankle. I thought I’d just twisted it, but it’s been a few days now and it isn’t getting any better,” I improvised.
 “OK, well if you could just sit on the examination table, we’ll have a look.”
Faking a limp, I levered myself up onto the table with my hands and took off my shoe. I was wearing a short skirt and had bare legs. John carefully felt all over my foot.
“Does this hurt?” he said, poking at the side of my ankle.
“A little,” I said, pretending to wince.
“How about this?” He rotated the ankle.
“Ow, yes, that hurts.” I drew my foot away from him, frowning. He gently pulled my foot back.
“Maybe it just needs rubbing better,” he suggested, starting to caress my ankle with his thumb.
“What are you doing,” I asked archly, pulling my foot out of his grasp again.
“Nothing you don’t want,” he said, a glitter in his eyes as he reached out again for my leg and started to trace his fingers up towards my knee. I pressed my knees together firmly and tried ineffectually to pull down my tiny skirt.
“Doctor Philips, I don’t know what you mean!”
“Yes you do. There’s nothing wrong with your ankle is there? You came here to see me.  I’m not stupid. You’re always coming here with fake injuries and illnesses and giving me those big eyes. You want me, don’t you?” He said all this in a low, mesmerising voice, all the time running his hands tenderly over my calves. He was actually very good-looking and quite a charmer; I could well imagine all his female patients swooning and drooling over him.
“No, Doctor, you’ve got it wrong,” I said primly. “And I’m sorry, but if you continue with this inappropriate behaviour I will have to report you.” I caught my breath as his fingers tickled the sensitive skin behind my knees.
“You like that, don’t you?” he said. He leaned forward against me, pressing his crotch against my legs. I could feel his cock hard and hot in his trousers. He trailed one finger up over the join where my knees were clamped together and then continued tantalisingly slowly up my thighs.
“No!” I tried to jump down from the table but he stopped me with his body, pinning my hands down onto the table.  My hands immobilised, I twisted my body round with all the strength I could muster, flinging myself against him to try to move him away from me. He found himself struggling to hold me still and, once he freed my hands I lashed out at him, landing a slap hard across his face. He hauled off and slapped me back, sending me hurtling across the room. I stayed where I fell for a second, my head reeling from the blow. Taking advantage, he launched himself at me, shoving his hand up my skirt to yank at my thong. “No, No!” I kicked out and caught him on the shin with my toe. He covered my mouth quickly.
“Quietly now! Can’t let everyone know!” His eyes caught mine and I knew he meant this seriously. If anyone out there heard me screaming they’d think I was really being attacked.
“You won’t get away with this, you bastard,” I hissed at him once he moved his hand from my mouth.
“Of course I will,” he said, a smug smile spreading over his face. “I always have before.” Quickly he grabbed a pair of scissors from his desk and cut through the sides of my thong, evidently so he didn’t have to slide them over my flailing stilettos. A clever trick, especially as he then held the points of the scissors to my throat, just at the soft spot where the jugular is. I actually felt them prick my skin and I became very still. This might all be role-playing but those scissors still looked bloody sharp. “That’s better,” he said. “Good girl!”
He knelt in front of me and picked up the pink lace rag that used to be my thong. He held it to his face and sniffed deeply before placing it on his desk. Still holding the scissors to my throat, he pulled my thighs apart and stared at my pussy for a long moment before licking three fingers and pushing them inside me so hard that I actually slid along the carpet.
“You are so fucking wet for me, you little slut. You love this don’t you,” he said in a low tone. 
“No,” I whispered, arching my neck away from the lethally pointed blades.
He pulled his fingers out and slapped me hard across the face before shoving the fingers in my mouth. I could taste myself on his fingers.  
“Say you love it, bitch!” He pulled hard at my lower jaw, his fingers round my teeth and his thumb on my chin, as if to punish me for my defiance, before pulling his fingers out and allowing me to speak.
I glared at him and said nothing. He grabbed me by the back of my neck and pulled my head up hard, pushing the scissor blades closer to my neck. His teeth were bared and his face was contorted with excitement and fury.  My pussy throbbed. I could barely stop myself from thrusting my crotch up to him. He was right – I was loving it. The more he dragged me about – the more I wanted him. I wanted to reach and hold his cock, to feel that warm smoothness in my hand – but that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted me to fight him, not to want him.
“I’ll never say it – you’ll have to kill me.” I spat in his face.
“You bitch – I’m going to rape you till you bleed!” He was struggling to unzip his fly with one hand. The hand holding the scissors wavered and his attention dropped from me for a second. I grabbed my chance and knocked the scissors out of his hand. They went flying across the room and I sent him sprawling backwards with a kick to his stomach. I scrambled across the carpet on my hands and knees but he sprang on me, pushing my head down onto the floor and yanking my legs apart. With a groan he plunged his cock deep inside my dripping pussy. I pushed back to meet him and stifled my own moans, screaming in a whisper, “No, no, please!”
He twisted his fingers painfully in my hair and thrust into me so hard I had to grab onto the leg of the examination table to stay in one place. He hissed obscenities in my ear with every thrust, calling me nasty, filthy, bitch, slut, whore.
“I’d like to string you up in my bedroom and whip you till you bleed all over my carpet, then make you kneel down and shove my cock so far down your throat you choke, you fucking ugly skank,” he gasped out. His body spasmed with the last three words, and I felt his cock pulse as he filled my pussy with his cum. With a groan he let me go and slid his cock out of my cunt, sitting back on his heels and catching his breath. He watched as I rolled over and looked at him, rubbing the back of my head.
“Are you OK? Did I hurt you?” he said breathlessly, reaching out a hand towards me.
“A bit, but it’s OK,” I said, backing off and standing up.
“You can clean up through there,” he said, indicating a toilet off the office. I closed the door and leaned against the cool wall of the cubicle, letting out my breath. Wifey must be more of the vanilla type if he needed to vent those kinds of desires on me. I looked at my neck in the mirror where he had held the scissors. He had actually broken the skin; a thin trickle of blood ran down to my collar-bone and my cheek was red where he had slapped me. If I’d known I was going to get beaten up I would have charged extra. I cleaned myself up and went back into the main office.
He stopped me as I headed for the door and held out a twenty-pound note.
“For the thong,” he said.
“Thanks.” It was only £3 from La Senza, but I wasn't going to quibble.
“I would be very interested in seeing you again,” he said, looking slightly embarrassed. “I’ve never acted out these fantasies with anyone. My wife doesn’t know and I don’t think she’d understand.”
“That’s fine, but it does depend on the level of violence you want to use,” I said, deciding to be blunt. “I may have to charge a little extra.”
“No problem. I’ve got your number. I’ll be in touch.”
I headed towards the door and then turned back, remembering. “Oh. Just one more thing.”
“What?”
“Who was the guy who came into the other doctor’s office before you both came back?”
“Him? He works in the office.” John pulled a ‘so what’ face and shrugged.
“Was he supposed to be part of this deal?”
“No way. We asked him but he wouldn’t stump up the money.”
“But he knew I was coming, right?”
John nodded. “He was all for it until we asked him for his share.” 
“Well, you might want to have a conversation, because he came in while you were out of the room and got himself a freebie!” John’s face looked puzzled, then darkened with realisation.
I went out through the waiting room to the exit and looked into the office as I went past. A young guy with a faceful of spots glanced nervously at me from behind the desk. I went over and leaned in close.
“Just so you know – you are going to be in so much trouble,” I said with a grin and slipped him a card. “But if you want to get together with a few friends, here’s where to find me. That is, if you still have a job after today.” John came out from the corridor, his face irate. The office-dude swallowed visibly. “I hope it was worth it. Seeya!” I said.

Download my FREE ebook to read my first ten stories on your Kindle or other ereader.  






Dear readers:
I plan on putting my next selection of stories into another ebook which I will be selling for 99c on Smashwords. Because of this, each story will be available for one day ONLY in full. After that you'll have to buy the book to read it. My first book will always be free.

_____________________________

It didn’t take long for Penny and me to decide that it would make far more sense for us to move in together. I invited Penny to move in to my Wimbledon flat temporarily, away from her scummy room, until we could find a suitable two-bedroom apartment for us both. The occasional bout of playing notwithstanding, we would be living together as flat-mates, not lovers.

She leapt at the chance and I dispatched Fred to move her and her few boxes to mine. I offered my king sized bed to share, but she preferred to sleep on the sofa-bed until we found our own place.

Penny was a very easy flat-mate and we soon found a lovely two-bedroom maisonette in Streatham with a garden and permission to redecorate.  The landlord even offered to give us the keys early so we could go in and do it up before we moved in. I had a bit of a pang handing in my notice at my old flat, but my half of the rent of the new place was less than I was paying now, so we were saving money.

The month flew by. Work was pouring in, for both Penny and me, sometimes together and sometimes separately. Penny was quickly making a name for herself and we spent the afternoons decorating our new place.

Moving day came and Jake, the rather gorgeous ‘man with a van’ we had booked, came with his mate Dean to move our stuff.  It was unusually warm for September and, once they had unloaded at the other end, they were glad of the offer of the cold Cokes we had already put into the fridge at the new flat.  Perhaps it was a bit naughty of me to shake them up in the kitchen before giving them to the movers, but it did the trick.

“Bloody hell!” Jake jumped up off my sofa as the can erupted rather splendidly all down the front of his chest. Dean had already begun to open his before he realised what had happened and his, too, spurted and frothed all over his top.

“Fuck,” he said, batting ineffectually at the sodden material and slurping at the can to prevent any more overspill.

“Oh I’m so sorry; they must have got dropped,” I said, rushing into the kitchen to grab a roll of kitchen towel. I knelt down on my hands and knees in front of them mopping up the drips on the fortunately laminated floor, making sure they had a good view down my skimpy top. I saw that Penny had got a wet cloth for them to sponge their tops with.

“That won’t do any good,” I said. “Tell you what – I can put them through a quick wash cycle in the machine – they’ll be washed and dry in an hour. Unless you have somewhere you need to be.”

The boys looked at us and then at each other. Penny treated them to a flutter of her eyelashes and a flirty little smile.

___________________________________

If you enjoyed the beginning, this story and others is available to purchase for only 99c in Book Two of my sizzling steamy sexcapades here:

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/83238

Book One is available as a FREE download here: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/68665

Download my FREE ebook to read my first ten stories on your Kindle or other ereader.  


Dear readers: I plan on putting my next selection of stories into another ebook which I will be selling for 99c on Smashwords. Because of this, each story will be available for one day ONLY in full. After that you'll have to buy the book to read it. My first book will always be free.

_____________________________   

Penny took to fucking like a kid to candy. A couple of days after the lock-in I had a phone call from the manager of a well-known London football club wanting to book me for an after party to celebrate – hopefully – their win of the first match of the season.

“You were recommended by a young lady called Ebony,” he said. His English was excellent, but there was a touch of a foreign accent there. “She said you worked together a few weeks ago.”

“Oh yes, I remember Ebony,” I said. “Nice girl.”

“We are planning on holding several parties during the season. So if we’re happy, and you’re happy, this could become a regular thing for you.”

“I can guarantee you’ll be happy with me,” I purred.

“That remains to be seen.” His tone was clipped and business-like. “We’re still after one more girl. Do you know anyone who might be suitable?”

“I know someone who might be interested. She’s new to the profession but very keen.”

“What does she look like?”

“Blonde, slim, sweet - think Drew Barrymore.”

“Very well. Ask her if she’d like to join us.”

“I’ll do that.”

The party was in two days and was to be held at the manager’s house, in a very prestigious part of North London. I rang Penny as soon as the manager had hung up.

“Got you a gig, if you fancy,” I said as soon as she answered.

“Already?”

“Yup. How do you fancy going to a party with the entire squad of a well-known Premiership football team?”

“Sounds cool! Which team?” I named the team and she laughed incredulously. “Wow – that would be fantastic. Have you done this gig before?”

“Nope. But he did say they going to be having quite a few parties, so this could be a regular thing. And football players have more money than they can possibly spend so, if we impress them, this could really open doors for us! You up for it?”

“I gather it wouldn’t be just us?”

“God no – there’d be other girls there too. There’s, like, 25 in the squad. Plus the manager.”

I heard her take a deep breath and let it out. “OK, I’ll do it,” she said, sounding as if she had to get it out before she changed her mind.

“Listen, if you’re not comfortable, we can wait for another job for you, maybe a one on one.”

“No, it’s OK – I’ll probably be more up for it if there are other girls there. And at least I’ll know what the guys look like in advance.”

“I’ll get Fred to pick you up at eight.”

“Fred?”

“My driver. He’s such a sweetie – you’ll love him.”

___________________________________

If you enjoyed the beginning, this story and others is available to purchase for only 99c in Book Two of my sizzling steamy sexcapades here:

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/83238

Book One is available as a FREE download here: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/68665

Download my FREE ebook to read my first ten stories on your Kindle or other ereader.  


Dear readers: I plan on putting my next selection of stories into another ebook which I will be selling for 99c on Smashwords. Because of this, each story will be available for one day ONLY in full. After that you'll have to buy the book to read it. My first book will always be free.

_____________________________   

The taxi driver must have thought he was in heaven – I kept catching him clocking us in the mirror.

“I’ve never kissed a girl before,” Penny said after our lips finally parted.

“What did you think?”

“Different. But nice. Your lips are softer. And of course, there’s no stubble!”

“No – I shaved before we came out,” I dead-panned.

Penny shot me a startled look before realising I was joking and giggled.

“Here we are.” The taxi driver pulled up outside my building and we got out. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her as she gracefully stepped out of the car, her legs slim and pale in the light of the street lamp. “You know,” the driver said, as I went to the window to pay him, “if you girls want some company, I can blow off the rest of the night. We can waive the fare.” He waggled his eyebrows. I looked at him closely. He wasn’t bad-looking, and on another night I might have taken him up on it – but tonight was all about Penny.

“Not tonight babes – but look me up sometime,” I said, passing him a card with his fare. He glanced at it and back at me.

“Gotcha,” he said with a wink, pocketing the card and ogling my tits.

We went upstairs. Penny settled herself on the sofa and I made coffee.

“What was that all about?” Penny asked, when I came in.

“What was what all about?” I said, putting the cups on the table and sitting next to her.

“You gave that taxi driver a card.”

I stalled for time for a few moments, shifting position on the sofa and pretending to sip my burning hot coffee.

“Nikki!” Penny said impatiently, clearly exasperated with my procrastinating.

“OK.” I let out my breath. “OK. There’s something I need to tell you. I’m not a paralegal. I didn’t qualify to be one. I don’t even know what one is.”

“I see.” Penny frowned. “Then, why were you at the interview?” she said, using the kind of tone you might use to talk to a simpleton.

“Because I was booked to be there. I’m a sex-o-gram.” I watched her face carefully to judge her reaction. She looked confused so I elaborated. “Like a strippergram, but instead of stripping, I . . .” I hesitated.

“Have sex with people,” Penny finished.

“Well, yes, basically. See, it was Guy’s birthday. Tom had booked me to pose as an interviewee, and then pretend to be desperate for the job and come on to Guy to the extent that I would have sex with him.”

“And did you?”

“Oh yes. All of them actually.” I smiled at the memory.

“So whilst we were all outside waiting to be interviewed, you were in there shagging all those three blokes?”

“Yes.” There was a long pause. Had I scared her off? “Are you shocked?”

“Well, a little.” Then she giggled. “Wow. And Guy had no idea you weren’t really there for the job?”

“Not a clue. I mean, I had a fake CV and everything, so he knew I was qualified. Or he thought he knew anyway. Apparently he was all for hiring me so Tom had to tell him it was a set-up. I’d promised to suck his cock every day you see, if he took me on.”

“Well, that’s one interview technique they didn’t mention at university.” Penny shook her head and lay back against the sofa. “So, were you actually working tonight then?”

“No, although that is how I met Lewis. When he started his lock-ins, he had booked me and a few other girls to provide the female company till the word started to spread. But tonight was just for fun.”

“So,” Penny finished her coffee and put the cup on the table. “Have you ever been booked by a woman?”

“A few times, but usually for a threesome with a husband or boyfriend, never for one on one.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Depends on the woman.”

Penny’s eyes were huge in the dim light, the pupils so dilated there was barely a millimetre of iris visible.

“If I booked you to be my sex-o-gram, what would you do?” she said.

___________________________________

If you enjoyed the beginning, this story and others is available to purchase for only 99c in Book Two of my sizzling steamy sexcapades here:

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/83238

Book One is available as a FREE download here: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/68665

Download my FREE ebook to read my first ten stories on your Kindle or other ereader.  


Dear readers: I plan on putting my next selection of stories into another ebook which I will be selling for 99c on Smashwords. Because of this, each story will be available for one day ONLY in full. After that you'll have to buy the book to read it. My first book will always be free.

_____________________________  I rang Penny that evening. It went straight to answerphone so I left a message. I’d just gone in the kitchen to put the kettle on when she rang me back.

“Hey Nikki,” she said, sounding contrite. “Sorry I didn’t answer, but I never answer unknown numbers. I always figure if it’s important they’ll leave a message."

“It’s OK – I do the same thing. So, how did it go?” Even though I knew she hadn’t got the job, she didn’t know that I knew.

She sighed. “I didn’t get it – they rang me this afternoon.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!”

“Oh well. Back to the drawing board.” She sounded miserable.

“Do you want to go out tomorrow, drown your sorrows?”

“Sounds like a plan. Where do you fancy?”

“Tell you what - come round to mine first, we can have a couple of drinks beforehand – then I’ll take you to the best pub! My mate runs it – I can usually wangle a couple of free drinks.”

“Cool.” ~

She turned up with a compact overnight bag. “I know it’s a bit presumptuous, but do you mind if I stay here tonight? It’s just that it’s a bit far back to where I live.” Her eyes were worried.

“Of course you can. The sofa’s really comfy, or I’ve got a king-sized bed if you don’t mind sharing.”

“Great.” Her smile was relieved. She was so sweet and uncertain – I just wanted to give her a hug.

“Come on in,” I said. “You can put your bag in the bedroom .”

She followed me through the entrance hall into the living room. “Wow,” she said flatly, stopping short and looking round. “This is amazing – it’s huge!”

“It’s just a one-bedroom flat,” I said, a little embarrassed.

“But it’s gorgeous – those full length windows are stunning and I love what you’ve done with them – all that draped white voile makes it look really ethereal. And it's a proper one bedroom flat too, isn't it, not even a studio. In Wimbledon – this can’t be cheap.”

“Well, it was a bit grotty when I took it on, so I negotiated a reduced rent in exchange for making a few improvements. I had the laminate floors put in and the walls re-skimmed . . .” I could see her eyes glazing over, “so it doesn’t actually cost all that much,” I finished, not wanting to bore her with the details.

“I’ve just got a room in a grotty student share,” she said, envy colouring her voice. “It was all I could afford. I came to London because this is where all the big legal eagle jobs are, but I can’t even get on the bottom rung. I’m working at bloody Tesco on the checkouts at the moment just to live.” Her voice broke and she collapsed onto the sofa.

“Hey, it’s OK.” I sat next to her and put an arm round her shoulders. “You’ll get there. At least you’ve got a job.”

“Yes, but I didn’t qualify as a paralegal to spend the rest of my life working at Tesco.” She dashed away tears angrily. “Now I’ve messed up my eyeliner!”

I squeezed her shoulders. “Listen – dump your bag and fix your make-up – the bathroom is off the bedroom. We’ll go out tonight and have a great time. If you want, I’ll put out some feelers – I might be able to find something else you can do for some extra money while you’re trying to get a paralegal job.”

She turned to look at me woefully. “Better than Tesco?”

“Way better than Tesco!”

We loosened up with a couple of Baileys and Amarettos before heading out.

“My friend Lewis runs this pub on Putney High Street,” I said. “He has a lock-in every Friday night that’s become legendary.”

“Sounds good.”

The pub was quiet when we arrived. Lewis came out from behind the bar when we came in.

“Nikki - baby!” he said, holding out his arms effusively.

“Hey,” I said, hugging him and kissing him on the cheek. “How’s you?”

“Fantastic now you’re here. I haven't seen you in ages.” he said. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Penny. Penny, this is my friend Lewis.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she said politely, holding out her hand.

“And I’m delighted to meet you,” Lewis said, shaking it warmly. “Darling Nikki – are you staying for my lock-in tonight?”

“That’s the plan.”

“And Penny? Are you staying?”

“Um,” was all Penny managed before I butted in.

“Can I just have a quick word?” I took Lewis’s arm and bore him off to a quiet corner. “Penny doesn’t know the exact, shall we say, nature of your famous lock-ins.”

“Oh I see. A Lewis lock-in virgin. I get it. Say no more.”

“I shall be filling her in during the evening. If she wants to stay, great – but if it’s not her kind of thing, then I’ll take her home.”

“Understood. Why don’t I get you two a couple of drinks?” Lewis offered.

“That sounds like a damn good idea.” I went back to where we had left Penny stranded and uncertain. “Sorry about that – just needed a quick word with Lewis.  He wants to know what you’d like to drink.”

“Can I have one of those drinks we had at your flat – the Baileys thing? That was really nice.”

“Sure. Two Baileys and Amarettos when you’re ready, bartender,” I called to Lewis, snapping my fingers.

“Certainly modom,” he replied. Penny giggled.

Several Baileys and Amarettos later, the bar was filling up and Penny was finally beginning to relax a little. I recognised a few faces from previous lock-ins who acknowledged me with a nod and a wink. One guy, James, came over to me.

“Hey baby,” he said, before leaning over to plant a kiss on my lips and giving my breast a quick fondle. “Are you stopping tonight – it’s been forever.”

“Well, busy busy, as always,” I said, glancing at Penny who had evidently clocked the boob-grabbing and was sitting with a quizzical look on her face. “But, yes, I’m staying tonight. Probably.”

“I’ll tell the lads – you’ve been missed.” A cheer went up from the group as James went back and delivered the news.

“Probably?” Penny said. “I thought we were definitely staying.”

“Penny,” I began, deciding maybe this was a good time to tell the whole truth. “This lock-in. It’s not, well, it’s kind of.” I stopped and took a deep breath. “It’s . . . a sex party,” I blurted.

Penny’s face became still. “OK,” she said, a tiny frown marring her forehead.

“You don't have to stay," I said hurriedly. "I don’t know if it’s your kind of thing or not. It’s fun, if you like it. But I guess it’s not, if you don’t.”

“I am familiar with the concept of sex parties, you know,” she said, a little crisply. “Some of the other students used to have them all the time.”

“Did you ever go?”

“No,” she admitted, sagging. “My friends weren’t really into that sort of thing. But we did play strip poker once.”

“Well that sounds pretty risqué. Did it turn into anything afterwards?”

“No. We just got dressed. God, I sound so lame.” Penny flushed.

“Listen, there’s nothing to be ashamed of in NOT going to sex parties,” I said, patting her knee. “Do you want to stay? It’s OK if you don’t.”

Penny sat for a long moment without answering. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “I kind of do - I guess I’m curious. But I’m a bit nervous too. I don’t know if I’d want to actually do anything.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what. Stay and watch. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re new and not to pester you or expect anything of you. But then, if you feel you want to join in, you can. How does that sound?”

“It sounds OK. God, I can’t believe I’m doing this!” She gave a nervous giggle.

___________________________________

If you enjoyed the beginning, this story and others is available to purchase for only 99c in Book Two of my sizzling steamy sexcapades here:

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/83238

Book One is available as a FREE download here: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/68665

Download my FREE ebook to read my first ten stories on your Kindle or other ereader.  

Dear readers: I plan on putting my next selection of stories into another ebook which I will be selling for 99c on Smashwords. Because of this, each story will be available for one day ONLY in full. After that you'll have to buy the book to read it. My first book will always be free.

_____________________________   

“You’ll be posing as an interviewee,” the man on the phone told me. “We’re having a genuine job interview, with genuine candidates, but you’ll be the only one who isn’t.”

“So, what will I be required to do?”

“Well, there’ll be me – I’m Tom - and two others on the interview panel, Guy and Adam.”

“Let me guess – it’s someone’s birthday.”

“Yes,” he sounded surprised. “How did you know?”

“I get this all the time. And you want me to pretend to be desperate for the job and offer to suck his cock or have sex, and then you reveal afterwards that it was a birthday surprise. Ta-da.”

“Spot on. I’m impressed.”

“Hey – it’s what I do. Whose birthday is it?”

“It’s Guy’s. We’ll do a tour of the firm first, to make it look convincing. Then I’ll be calling the candidates in one by one. I’ll call you in first. Come on to Guy to begin with – he’s the tall one with glasses. He’ll probably be really uncertain what to do, but we’ll back you up and encourage you and he’ll go along with it once he sees that we’re OK with it.”

“No problems.”

We arranged time and place. I went out to buy myself an interview suit. I’ve never actually had an interview – except for the stripper one, and that wasn’t really the type of interview for which a suit was required. Or many clothes at all really. I found the perfect one in Debenham’s. Short-ish skirt, charcoal grey, with a ruffled jacket. Smart, but also very feminine and sexy. It wasn’t cheap, but I saw it as an investment – I may need to do dominating lady boss at some point.

I bought some fake black-rimmed glasses at Claire’s Accessories – I could do the whole ‘let hair down, take off glasses – “But you’re beautiful Miss Blaise!”,’ thing. The jacket fastened high enough that I didn’t need to wear a blouse, but low enough to show more than a hint of cleavage.

I dressed carefully that morning – subtle make-up and pinned-up hair. I put on the whole she-bang underneath – black and red lacy underwear, complete with suspenders and stockings. Once I put on the suit and added the glasses, I surprised myself at how smart I looked. Slut underneath and lawyer on top. I finished the ensemble with killer heels and I was ready to go.

“Wow,” Fred said, as I came downstairs. “You look really good – very professional.”

“Do I pass for respectable, then?” I said, with a half-smile.

“Definitely. I’d hire you!”

The address I had been given was a law firm in Richmond. We pulled up outside a nondescript building – grey and square. I went in and gave my name to the jet-haired snooty-looking girl at the reception desk.

“I have an interview,” I informed her, looking at her over my glasses. She shot me a dirty look and tapped her list with glossy fingernails.

“If yew wanna siddown over there,” she drawled in a surprising American accent, indicating a row of low plush chairs against a wall where several people were already waiting. I suddenly realised I didn’t even know what the job was supposed to be. The candidates were both men and women, mostly young, but there was one older lady who sat apart from the others, twisting her pearls nervously. I lowered myself down on the empty chair at the end of the row, pressing my knees together primly. I glanced down the row of tense candidates.

“Have you come far?” the girl next to me whispered. She was a petite blonde with a sweet face.

“No – just Wimbledon,” I whispered back.

“Oh this would be really convenient for you then,” she said.

“Yes, it would be great.”

“You look really young – when did you qualify?”

Shit – I thought. Qualify for what? Was I meant to be interviewing for a lawyer’s job? “This summer,” I managed. It was a fairly safe bet that whatever course I was meant to have been doing would have ended in the summer.

“I’m Penny,” she said, with a flicker of a smile.

“Nikki,” I replied.

I was relieved when a man came down the corridor towards us. He scrutinised each of the women, his eyes flicking from one face to another. I wondered if he was trying to work out which one of us I was. I kept my gaze neutral and professional as I met his eyes. An expression of mixed annoyance and confusion flickered over his features – perhaps because he couldn’t figure out which one of the professionally-dressed women in front of him was a hooker. I caught him glancing at the older woman with the pearls and stifled a smile at the alarmed look on his face. I wondered if he realised how transparent he was.

“Is everyone here?” he asked the receptionist. With a laconic glance at her list, she confirmed that all the candidates had arrived.

“OK people,” he said. “I’m Tom Watson, one of the partners here. If you’d like to follow me, I’ll take you on a quick tour round the firm.” I stuck to the back of the group, hoping not to be engaged in any conversation. I could fake a lot of things but being a lawyer was not one of them. Penny hung back to walk in step with me.

“He seems nice,” she murmured. I smiled non-committally. “Cute too,” she went on. “Nice bum.”

I turned to look at her in surprise and she winked at me. And she had seemed like such a sweet little thing as well. She was pretty though, in a girl-next door Drew Barrymore sort of way. Her tight round ass was well-defined under the pencil skirt and I found myself wondering what she looked like under that prim suit.

Judging from the way Tom kept glancing back at her, he was clearly wondering the same. He barely even looked at me, hiding behind my glasses. I hoped he wouldn’t be too disappointed when he found out that Penny was a genuine candidate and wouldn’t be sucking his cock. At least, not today anyway.

We were led around that part of the building which belonged to the law firm, briefly shown closed doors with lawyers’ names on them, popped our heads into the kitchen and were finally hustled into a conference room. A young man was laying out coffee and biscuits on a side table.

“Help yourselves to refreshments,” Tom invited. “We’ll call the first one of you through shortly.” I saw him look meaningfully at Penny, who was naturally oblivious. I got myself a coffee and a chocolate hobnob and sat down next to Penny.

“How many interviews have you had so far,” she asked me.

“This is my third since qualifying. What about you?” I said through a mouthful of oaty biscuit.

“Oh, this is my fourth. I hate interviews so much. I get so nervous and I end up babbling rubbish. How do you cope with it?”

“Oh, I just offer to give them all a blow-job. Works every time,” I said, with a grin. Penny burst into nervous giggles.

“I might try that,” she said. “It can’t be any worse than what I’ve been doing so far.”

“You’ll be fine,” I reassured her. “Just imagine them all naked or something. Anyway, I think Tom likes you. Just smile prettily and wow them.”

A woman came into the room with a clipboard. “Nikki Blaise?” she said, looking at us.

“That’s me,” I said, getting up. I finished off my hobnob and picked up my coffee.

___________________________________

If you enjoyed the beginning, this story and others is available to purchase for only 99c in Book Two of my sizzling steamy sexcapades here:

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/83238

Book One is available as a FREE download here: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/68665

Download my FREE ebook to read my first ten stories on your Kindle or other ereader.  

Dear readers: I plan on putting my next selection of stories into another ebook which I will be selling for 99c on Smashwords. Because of this, each story will be available for one day ONLY in full. After that you'll have to buy the book to read it. My first book will always be free.

_____________________________  In these tales I write about the more unusual or fun jobs I get booked for. A lot of the time it’s just a case of: turn up at house, have sex, clean up, go home.  Which is all very well, and it pays the bills, but it doesn’t make very interesting reading.

This one, though, I think you’ll like. I got a phone call from Mr Robinson, the Maths teacher we met earlier. Apparently he had been telling a select few colleagues about me and he wanted me to come back, dressed in school uniform again. This time, my instructions were to come down to the gym at 4pm, after school, and start to take a shower in the girls’ changing rooms.

I put my hair in a pony-tail – I didn’t want it to get wet – and dressed in my school uniform again, making sure my lingerie was white and lacy; sexy, yet virginal at the same time. I found a bag that was utilitarian enough to pass as a school bag, and packed it with some shower gel and a bath puff and towel. When I was at school taking showers after PE, I remembered the girls skipped in and out as quickly as possible – there was very little actual cleansing going on. It was all about making enough wet footprints on the tiled floor to convince the fearsome PE teacher that we had actually had a shower. But I got the impression that would not be what was required of me today.

Fred dropped me off outside the school gates again.

“Bye Dad!” I called over my shoulder as I climbed out of the car. He raised his eyebrows and gave me a Look as I slammed the door.

“Be good,” he said through the open window.

“They don’t pay me to be good,” I said with a wink.

“Be careful then.”

“Always.”

The school was deserted as I made my way down to the Sports Hall. I took my time, staring into those classrooms I had once had lessons in; echoes of pranks pulled and detentions skipped floating through my mind. I heard the tip-tapping of heels approaching and I ducked my head down, walking purposefully down the corridor.

A sharp-faced teacher came round the corner, a pile of books in her arms.

“What are you doing still here?” she snapped. I didn’t recognise her; she must be new since I left.

“Um, I’ve been having a violin lesson – I just came to get my PE kit from my locker,” I improvised, remembering my friend Josie who used to have violin lessons after school, and hoping desperately the teacher wasn't a new music teacher.

“Where’s your violin?”

“It’s in the car – my dad came to pick me up, but I just remembered that I’d left my kit.”

“Well, hurry up then! You shouldn’t still be here.”

“Yes, Miss.”

She clicked off down the corridor. I let out my breath with a whoosh. Too close! I quickly covered the rest of the way to the Sports Hall, pausing with my hand on the changing room door handle. I didn’t know what I would find – I suddenly had a mad vision of the entire male staff sitting on the benches watching me shower, and lining up, knobs out, to fuck me one by one.

___________________________________

If you enjoyed the beginning, this story and others is available to purchase for only 99c in Book Two of my sizzling steamy sexcapades here:

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/83238

Book One is available as a FREE download here: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/68665

If you fancy owning a pair of my used panties to play with while you're reading my stories, please send an email to nikkiblaise@hotmail.co.uk for instructions.

I accept payment by PayPal and cost is £15, including postage to the UK. Add another £1 for internatonal postage to anywhere else.

Look forward to heating from you :)

Download my FREE ebook to read my first ten stories on your Kindle or other ereader.

Dear readers: I plan on putting my next selection of stories into another ebook which I will be selling for 99c on Smashwords. Because of this, each story will be available for one day ONLY in full. After that you'll have to buy the book to read it. My first book will always be free.

_____________________________  

You wouldn’t think a sex-o-gram would need a booty call, but sometimes my jobs are more about the client than me – well, they all are actually. If I get to cum it’s a perk, but it doesn’t always happen.

But sometimes I need a little more, and that’s where my booty call comes in. You remember the policeman? The one who picked me up in town and did very naughty things to me in the back of his squad car? Well, we got together a couple of times after that and he is very, very willing to please. He’s called Mark.

I never allow clients back to my flat – I always go to them, whether it’s their house, place of work, car or whatever – but my home is sacrosanct. Even Mark hasn’t been here before, we’ve always been in his car. But after playing burglar I felt like some comfort, and Mark isn’t a client after all.

It was nearly 4.30am by the time I got home. I changed into my favourite silk robe and made a coffee. I wasn't sure if Mark would be working, asleep, or what, so I sent him a quick text: “You up?” and sat on the bed to wait.

“Working babe – finish @ 5am. Wassup?” came the reply a few minutes later.

“Feeling horny – need 2cu,” I sent.

“Where ru?”

I sent him my address, telling him to come up.

“Be there soonest,” he promised.

I must have fallen asleep because I don’t remember him arriving. All I remember is waking up well into the next day, sunlight filtering through the curtains dappling my carpet, with him curled around me on the bed, asleep in just his pants. I rolled over and watched him as he slept. There’s something very vulnerable about a sleeping man lying almost naked, knees drawn up and curled around his privates. It’s such a massive contrast to seeing them standing tall and strong in their uniforms, especially a man such as Mark. He opened his eyes as I stared at him and blinked at me before smiling.

“Morning gorgeous,” he said.

“Morning,” I said back. I rolled onto my back and stretched luxuriously. Mark propped himself up on one elbow and watched me. “What?” I said, with a half-laugh.

“You make funny little noises when you stretch,” he said, smiling lop-sidedly. “Like a squeaky little kitten!”

“Shut up!” I said, pushing him good-naturedly.

“Coffee?” he said, springing up off my bed and heading to the door.

“Isn’t that my line?” I said, making no move from the warm ‘stay with me’ embrace of my bed.

“Hey, I’m a new man – I can do coffee,” he said, standing in the door frame and looking down at me, the illusory vulnerability vanished. He looked tall and strong and tanned and extremely fuckable. “How do you like it?”

“Um, like what?” My incipient horniness was diverted by the question.

“Your coffee, babe?”

“Oh. White, no sugar thanks.”

I nipped to the loo while he was making the coffee and made a silent howl of horror at my horrendous bed-haired reflection, along with Alice Cooper-style streaks of mascara down my cheeks. I scrubbed my face and dragged a brush through my hair, leaping gazelle-like back on to the bed before he returned.

Mark brought the cups through and deposited mine next to the almost full cup of cold coffee I had made the night before.

“I’ll get rid of this,” he said, picking it up and taking it through to the kitchen. Domestic duties duly discharged, he plonked himself down next to me, arranging my pillows against the headboard and sitting up to drink his coffee.

“Sorry about flaking on you last night,” I said after a few moments’ silent sipping.

“It’s OK – I was tired anyway.”

“Did you arrest lots of naughty people?”

“Oh yes, lots of very naughty people.”

“Were any of them as naughty as me?” I flirted with my eyes at him.

“Nikki, my sweet, no one is as naughty as you! Come here.” He said the last in a growl, plunking his coffee on the bedside table. With a gleeful grin, I put mine down too and squealed as Mark pulled me on top of him. He fumbled at the sash of my robe, eventually giving up and pulling the two halves apart. I tutted, batted his hands away and used my fingernails to carefully pick open the knot he had only managed to tighten through his frantic yanking. Undone, I let the robe fall away; it spilled onto the carpet in a shimmering emerald pool.

___________________________________

If you enjoyed the beginning, this story and others is available to purchase for only 99c in Book Two of my sizzling steamy sexcapades here:

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/83238

Book One is available as a FREE download here: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/68665