Entertaining the Client

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A wife gets asked to look after the client.
1.6k words
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She is in her favourite coffee shop. She loves the relaxed ambience that allows for her to engage in her favourite pastime, that of watching the world go by through the window as she sips at her coffee and taking in the various customers, the soft murmur of their chatter washing over the sound of the jazz blues background music. She is returned from her daydreaming by the recognition that she is idly tapping her spoon on the saucer of her cup. The persistence of her tapping betrays another emotion that is competing with her daydream: she is nervously excited ...

You see, today she is not using the coffee shop in her usual way of relaxing for a moment in the city. She is here at the behest of her boss. As usual he is stuck somewhere on the M5 (or so he says). Would she be a darling and meet the important client (they were always important to her boss, she thought)? He's done it before a few times and it usually meant an hour or two trying to sound interested in the dull conversation of some middle-aged, middle-England business type as he unattractively flattered her. So why the nervous excitement, then?

Aah well ... this time it was slightly different, or maybe it should be said that he was different. Six months ago she had been in this very coffee shop performing her extra-curricular 'entertain the client' admin duties, awaiting her visitor and daydreaming of the sexy fun she had planned for her husband, when he returned that evening for a couple of days away. And then the man appeared. He was indeed middle-aged but, as he scanned the room from by the door, she recognised that there was something intriguing about him. He wasn't necessarily classically handsome but he had a presence. They made eye contact and he recognised that she must be the lady about which he's been forewarned and he came over to introduce himself. As they drank their coffee he didn't drone on about business or come out with the line (which she's had before) about what's a pretty girl like you meeting strangers for coffee – she's had that one from a previous client. Instead, he asked her about herself and she found herself answering, probably saying too much in fact. After an hour it felt that she had known him for years, creating a kind of intimacy but even so, she was more than shocked about what happened next. Almost nonchalantly he said that he wanted to surprise his wife with some underwear and would she be kind enough to go and choose some for him. As surprised as she was, she found herself agreeing, even asking her size, to which he replied that his wife was the mirror image of her. And so, she left him on his laptop and went over the road to Debenhams and almost trance-like she was scanning the basques and slips. She softly laughed to herself with how ludicrous this was and chose a Janet Reger black lacy basque with silver clasps down the front and matching knickers.

She returned to the coffee shop and handed him the boxed parcel and handed over the change. He dismissed her hand, saying that the change was for doing this favour for him. She didn't need to check how much it was as he had given her £120 and now she had almost half of that in her hand. She found her protestations fell on deaf ears so she put the money in her purse. They continued to talk more and soon she had almost forgotten the incident. But then she was again shocked when out of the blue he said that he wanted to be sure of something. He took her hand in his and opened her palm before closing it with his hand which remained over hers. By the feel, she knew there was money in it. He looked into her eyes and calmly said that he wanted her to go to the lavatory and change into the underwear. He wanted to be sure that it felt as perfect as it looked ... oh and would she please wear her long coat over the underwear instead of her dress as he wanted to know how they felt without restriction. In her astonishment, her mouth opened to decline the offer but no words came out. Instead she found herself slowly standing up and without glancing at him she picked up the parcel and her coat and walked to the toilet. As she locked the door of the spacious cubicle behind her, she just stood in silence. What on earth was she doing? This was crazy. A man was paying her to put on sexy underwear. No she wasn't going to do it ... but then ... almost surprising herself, she recognised something else.

Her nipples were pressing against her bra so hard that they were almost painful. While her head was saying one thing, her body was saying another. What the hell was going on? Her distraction suddenly sent other messages. Suddenly she found herself thinking that it was a good job that she was wearing black stockings and her own black lacy knickers. She glanced at her feet and thought her heels were nice and high too. But what was she thinking? This was ludicrous! The further distraction reminded her that she was clenching the money in her hand. Without even looking at it, she put the roll of notes in her handbag and burst out laughing. Well, it's decision time.

As she sat back down, she tried to reengage with the man where they had left off before his strange question but it was impossible. Now the atmosphere was electric. As she sat there she was acutely aware of the boned shape of the basque pushing her body into extremes of her natural curves. She also noticed something else ... her crossed legs were clenching tightly against each other but even that couldn't hide or stop the gentle rhythmic throbbing between her legs. As she re-crossed her legs, she felt the cool air on the bare flesh above the stockings and as it collided with the intense heat between her legs, she also recognised that she was soaking. He asked her how it felt and as she answered that it felt 'good' she became aware of the double meaning of his question.

She almost jumped as the phone rang. It was her boss. Her emotion was a juxtaposition of relief and disappointment as he told her that he was back in the office. As they got up to leave she realised that her dress was in the underwear box in the lavatory. Quickly she went to retrieve it and change back into her dress. As she opened the door to the toilet she felt a hand on her shoulder and realised the man was behind her and motioned her inside with him following. For a moment she felt unsure, but his gentle smile reassured her. He told her to keep the underwear – he had the make and model from the receipt, but he asked for just one more thing. He wanted to see his purchase. This time, as his hand with the money came towards her own hand she involuntarily felt her open hand slowly rise up to meet his. With his other hand he lifted each shoulder of her coat free and she stood perfectly still in front of him. His eyes roamed over her body, over the fullness of the bust of the basque, unaware of the engorged nipples beneath, and down to her long stocking-covered legs attached with petite straps to the basque. And then up to her lacy knickers. As he looked at her there she saw his nostrils ever so slowly expand and she knew that he was inhaling the scent from between her legs. And so they stood like this, perfect strangers a couple of hours ago, now looking into each other's eyes, her semi-naked.

And now she didn't have to be asked as he had paid her for this so she slowly turned around so he could look at her bare bottom but for the narrow band of her knickers. She became aware that he was slowly moving down to a crouching position so that his face was level with her bottom. She found herself bending slightly over, enjoying the power that she felt, after all he had been respectful and not touched her. From the sides, she slowly pulled her knickers away from her pussy and down to her knees; they were reluctant to leave her outer lips as the moisture had clung to the material. She sensed his nose almost against her skin as he came closer to smell her. Her hands that were still on the side of her bottom now gently pulled the cheeks apart so that her inner lips parted and she now knew that this stranger was looking inside her. His hand was removing something from his pocket. Oh god was it a condom? She looked over her shoulder and realised that he had his wallet in his hand but at that moment there was a knock at the door that broke the moment so the adventure had ended.

And now ... here she was. Her boss had told her the previous day that he was coming and that he (the boss) would be late from a meeting in Taunton. Would she be a darling and entertain the client? She became aware as she sat that she was fondling her hair and had her finger in her mouth squeezing her lips, sure signs of when she is nervous. Also, the basque was feeling uncomfortable – she wasn't going to wear it but her husband had said that it would be a nice treat for the client. As the figure of the client appeared at the door to the coffee shop, she smiled and wondered what treats would she and the client be having today?

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AnonymousAnonymousabout 1 month ago

ENTERTAINING THE CLIENT is a very very good wife sex story! It is aldo true to life.

I gave it a 5- (4.6 = 92%, ★★★★★-)!

THIS WIFE IS A KEEPER. FULL STOP.

AnonymousAnonymousover 2 years ago

My wife found this story and we both enjoyed it tremendously. Her eyes always light up when she sees a story about a ‘wife’ and a ‘client”.

Your story was full of mystery, suspense, and surprises. The ending was simply magnificent: it was actually her husband that told her to wear the lingerie that the client had previously bought for her. And she did! Talk about getting the green light from your husband!

My wife was excited to see how many times the client placed rolls of cash in the wife’s hand. She has ‘looked after clients’ for her boss plenty of times. And when a man repeatedly has his hand on his wallet, they become irresistible.

The scene in the bathroom, when they got interrupted, was exquisitely narrated. She was his for the taking save for the knock on the door! OMG!

The coffee shop ambience gave the story an elegant and dignified flavor. Which helped in buying off the wife in a natural, unrushed manner.

In our 20 years of marriage my wife had ‘entertained’ probably 50 clients. Each time she walked away sexually satisfied, with plenty of money in her hand, and often with gifts of lingerie or jewelry. We loved your story!

AnonymousAnonymousabout 4 years ago
My cup of tea, like it very much. Gave u a 4+ [4.4 (☆☆☆☆+)]!

:)

AnonymousAnonymousover 4 years ago
Cuck tale

Why can’t the British write stories where the women aren’t whores and the husbands weak and willing cucks?

26thNC26thNCabout 5 years ago
Knickers and whilst

Means another English cuck story for sure.

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