Professional Excellence Ch. 02

'I'll just nip back to the Ladies and put on some slap, then. I'll be back later.'

I examined myself in the mirror as I lit up my mouth with red lipstick. The new stockings-and-suspenders uniform meant I had had to discard my usual post-gym outfit of sports clothes. Fortunately. I had chosen a tight black skirt with a slight split and an ivory silk blouse today. All my blouses were tight anyway. I winked at my image. I would pass muster for a tart at a loose end on a wet afternoon. I was a little nervous. This was the first time I would be soliciting trade on my own; and sober.

'Is this seat taken?'

The man fell back in his seat as if he had been shot. His hand groped to shut the lid of his computer, his face became instantly sweaty and he looked for a moment as if he might throw up. I smiled and eased myself into the hardback chair opposite him across the low table. I had seen a fleeting image on the screen of a blonde sucking an enormous dick. His earphones were proprietary, standard issue with any phone. No one within earshot would have been in any doubt as to what he was watching. Very little of the faked ecstasy was muffled. I held out my hand.

'I'm Monique.'

'Hugo.'

He had quickly regained his composure and looked at me suspiciously as he took my hand. He squeezed it weakly with damp fingers. He went through an attempted transformation from pathetic voyeur to urban sophisticate by smoothing back his hair and loosening his tie. His almost-confident smile revealed well-dentisted teeth which could do with a polish.

'What a lovely name. Would you care to buy me a drink?'

'Of course. What will you have?'

He waved with increasing urgency towards the bar. Michael was watching our every move whilst ostensibly polishing already spotless glasses, holding each one up to the light for minute examination. He did a double-take when he deigned to notice Hugo and strolled slowly towards us with a smile as fake as it was forced. We each ordered another drink and watched him amble away. I stole a glance at my watch. It was two o'clock, give or take. I looked back at Hugo wondering how to move things along. I had to shop for our evening meal before I went home and there was something about the soporific atmosphere in the lounge that had me worried this could take much longer than I initially thought.

Hugo smiled at me.

'So how much?'

'I beg your pardon?'

'For a liaison. Is that the right word?'

This was unexpected. But in a good way. I recalibrate, and speculated that perhaps I had underestimated Hugo. These business trips, rather than being the burden I had at first imagined, were, perhaps, his opportunity to play away. Get something he wasn't getting at home. I looked straight at him; he returned my stare without blinking.

'Two hundred for sex. More if you want something special. I think that is reasonable.'

He didn't miss a beat.

'Shall we take our drinks to my room? I have a meeting in just over an hour.'

I watched him gather his papers and computer into a briefcase and head for the bar to preempt us having to wait for Michael's funeral-march paced return. I moved to the entrance and we proceeded to the lift without further words. I was feeling strangely detached and couldn't work out why.

I examined Hugo in the lift. He was intently studying the lights on the panel as they checked off each floor. He must have been aware of my gaze and turned briefly with a weak smile before looking back at the illuminated buttons. I was getting messages from my boobs and pussy that they were ready for action, but with none of the urgency of my last two trips to the upper floors of the hotel. I had had a stronger physical response from 'accidentally' rubbing myself against Michael's hand.

We exchanged a sympathetic laugh as we confused each other trying to organise getting into the room. How to manage a bag, two glasses and a card key nestling in an inside pocket without accepting assistance from a woman took him a moment to work out, but he did it. I entered before him and scanned the room. It looked completely unoccupied. There was no sign of suitcases, nor any personal items at all on either bedside table or the small desk. Hugo was a complete cypher. My initial guesses that he was a pussy- and/or teenager-whipped wimp were clearly wrong. But all I really knew about him was that liked to be in control and had a penchant for movies of blondes sucking big dicks and sounding like they loved it. I turned to him and watched as he gently stowed his bag in the bottom drawer of the dresser and moved the drinks to a bedside table.

He nudged the two glasses a few inches to reposition them and stood back before giving himself a small nod of approval. Then he shrugged off his jacket and, oblivious of my presence, hung it carefully in the wardrobe and, with a final stroke to straighten the back, closed the door. He had a slight grin as he faced me.

'There.'

'You like everything in its place, I see.'

'I do. And everything in the correct order. I shall pay you now.'

He fished a wallet out of his pocket and counted out four fifty pound notes onto the desk. I picked them up and stuffed them into my bag. I placed the bag on the bedside cabinet and awaited further instructions. Hugo was clearly a man who wanted things done his way. I was just there to get a good seeing to and I didn't want to do or say anything which might get in the way. He stood looking me up and down with a proprietorial air but made no move towards me. I undid the top button on my blouse, looking to him for approval before continuing.

'Would you mind if I asked you to shower before we fuck?'

That was interesting. I found myself suddenly a lot more excited. My pussy became moist and I squeezed my thighs together to enhance the slight tingle I could feel between them. I wondered whether he was asking me to wash because he was a germophobe, or just like watching tarts soap their big knockers. It was his use of the word 'fuck' which had turned me on. This precise, almost prissy, man obviously had no time for euphemisms or obfustication. I liked that and undid another button.

'Why don't you sit and make yourself comfortable while I take my clothes off? Or perhaps you'd like to help me.'

'I'll think about it while I turn the shower on.'

He slid past me taking care not to touch me and went in to the bathroom. I heard the sound of water splashing a few moments later and he emerged wiping his hands on a small towel which he folded and placed beneath one of the pillows on the bed. He had come to a decision and sat on the end of the bed a few feet from me.

'You can undress now.'

I smiled at him and, maintaining eye contact, slipped the remaining four buttons free. I let the blouse slide over my bra as I fiddled with the buttons at the cuffs, then shrugged it off and turned to hang it carefully over the back of the desk chair. When I turned again he had a faint smile on his lips.

'Your breasts are very large.'

He spoke in a neutral tone, as if he was pointing out that I had laddered a stocking, or that the weather was warm for the time of year.

'Thirty-five double-D. Do you like them?'

'Very much. My wife takes an A-cup.'

Again, it was a simple statement of fact. I could discern no sense of judgement from his tone.

'Skirt or bra?'

'I beg your pardon?'

For the first time he sounded slightly perplexed.

'Would you like me to take off my bra next so you can see my naked breasts, or my skirt?'

'Oh, I see. Skirt, I think. Yes, definitely. Your skirt, then your tights, then your bra and finally your panties, please.'

His voice grew in confidence and he nodded at the mention of each item of clothing as if to confirm to himself that he was making the correct decision. I reached behind my back and undid the zip watching him as his eyes followed my hands. I let the tight garment hang loosely on my hips for a moment before wriggling and pushing until it fell to the floor. I bent forward to retrieve it feeling the weight of my breasts strain against the flimsy lace of my bra and then folded the skirt neatly over my blouse..

I was feeling increasingly warm. This was different from the almost manic lust which had carried me through my previous three encounters. I was intrigued by my soon-to-be lover. I was getting no signals from him that he was enjoying my strip. He had his legs lightly crossed at the knee; I could not see if he was getting an erection. His face remained impassive as he looked me up and down as if checking my body parts off an imaginary list. I ran my hands through my hair and shook it loosely before stroking them down over my boobs and belly to the waist of my suspender belt. My nipples engorged as my fingers ran over them.

'Stockings next?'

'Please.'

I placed one foot on the edge of the bed about two feet from him as I unclipped the two clasps holding my stockings. I caught his eye as I raised my head and we exchanged a smile. I could feel the heat coming from my groin as I slowly rolled off the first stocking; and then repeated the performance for the second. I slipped my heels back on as I undid the belt and bent from the waist to place the three articles over my skirt. I was pretty sure he would appreciate a good view of my bum.

I feigned difficulty as I held the two parts of my bra clip between my fingers and shook my chest making my breasts swing. Hugo licked his lips; the first indication he had given me of any sense of excitement. I broadened my smile as I let the back fall free and then slowly eased first one shoulder strap off, then the other. I held my breasts lightly in the cups before quickly pulling the bra off and easing my shoulders back to enjoy the freedom. I could feel my heart beating more quickly than usual as I secretly fondled myself; it was not racing, but my sense of impending satisfaction was growing.

I reached behind myself for the chair and laid the bra over the rest of my clothes without taking my eyes from Hugo. He was concentrating on my pussy with an intensity in his eyes I had not yet seen and he licked his lips again as I eased them over my hips and dragged them down my legs. I had to look down in order to concentrate getting them over my shoes and when I stood I tossed my hair again, put all my weight on my left leg and, resting my right elbow against my hip, extended my forearm with the knickers dangling from my index finger. It was the closest I had come to a theatrical gesture during my whole performance.

'You're shaved.'

'Yes. I'm no good at trimming my pubic hair and many men seem to like it.'

'I've never seen a shaved pubic area before. Not in real life you understand.'

'Would you like to touch? It feels remarkably smooth.'

I rubbed my hand over my vagina to emphasise the point. I could feel the dampness between my legs and hoped that he would take me up on my offer.

'Perhaps after your shower.'

He stood up and offered me his hand. Our first physical contact since the bar. The dampness I had felt earlier seemed to have gone. He appeared much more confident in an environment he could control. I let him lead me to the bathroom door.

'Will you watch me shower?'

I was genuinely interested in his answer. I still could not work him out. He paused at the door but ushered me in.

'Perhaps for a little while, but I don't wish to intrude.'

That made me laugh. He was paying me to go through this completely unnecessary ritual - I had washed thoroughly at the gym an hour or so earlier - but was concerned not to intrude on my privacy while I carried out his instructions. I kicked off both shoes and looked back at him as I slid open the shower door. He took an involuntary step backwards to avoid any chance of the the spray reaching him, but then remained where he was watching my closely as I stepped in to the warm deluge.

I washed carefully, trying to keep my hair as dry as possible. I kept glancing towards the open door for the first minute or so. He remained where he was at least for then. As the steam fogged the glass it became harder to see his outline, and when I began sponging my boobs I became distracted by the small shocks of pleasure I was giving myself as I nipped my now-hard nipples between soapy fingers.

I have never really enjoyed manual masturbation. I suppose it may have had something to do with my upbringing. On this occasion though, I found I needed to get myself off urgently. The combination of the strange striptease routine, the warm stream of water coursing over my body and the imagined presence of the dispassionate observer meant by the time my hands reached my pussy I was overcome by an overwhelming need for orgasm. My body had deceived me with the almost casual increase in its needs over the preceding minutes, but left me in no doubt as to what needed to be done at that point.

I slipped two fingers in and pressed and flicked at my clit with my thumb. I wondered for a moment whether Hugo heard the deep groan I let out as I pushed my fingers as deep as they would go, but didn't care. I pressed my tits against the glass shower screen enjoying the residual coolness on my nipples as they were engulfed by the soft flesh of my twin globes. The whole thing was over in a minute of digital pounding. I gasped and grunted the orgasm from me and felt my knees weaken as my climax surged. I was left panting and the shower filled with the faint aroma of my juices as the steaming hot water washed over my hand.

Hugo was nowhere to be seen when I left the shower, so I dried myself quickly and grabbed the towelling gown from behind the door before returning barefoot to the main room. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the subdued lighting. He had closed the curtains and extinguished the main lights. The room was illuminated by a single bedside lamp which cast warm shadows over the bed.

Hugo was sitting in bed under the covers, propped up by pillows, reading what looked like a company report. He took off his half-moon glasses when he saw me come in and placed both them and his file carefully on the side cabinet. He was naked from the waist upwards, presumably from the waist down as well. The white skin of his chest was dusted with pale hairs which gleamed in the warm light. He patted the bed beside him and struggled to free one of the pillows behind him and drag it to what was to be 'my' side.

I dropped the towel I had been using to dry the ends of my hair which had not escaped the water and slipped off the gown before sliding beneath the sheets. The excitement which had overwhelmed me in the shower began to return. I had not been fucked in a proper bed since I don't know when. Howard had never been a 'fucking' sort of a man anyway. We had been at our most passionate on the back seat of the Rover he drove when we first met. By the time we had a bed of our own I was already pregnant and from then on 'making love' would be the best description of his performance. I settled myself in a sitting position alongside Hugo and half-turned towards him. I felt my still hard nipple brush his upper arm.

He mirrored my movement and we sat looking at each other. I had rather expected him to grab for my tits, it was the almost universal reaction of the men who had seen them unclothed before. With the obvious exception of my doctors, of course, but I suspected that one or two of them were more assiduous in their examinations than was medically necessary. But Hugo just rested against the pillow looking at my boobs and not moving. I could feel the warmth of his body underneath the sheets.

'Most clients like having their cocks sucked. Would you care for a blow job, sir?'

I don't know whether it was the directness of my question, the pent-up excitement of the pornography he had been watching in the bar plus the understated eroticism of my strip or simply the fact that he realised that time was a-passing and he had a meeting to attend, but whatever it was did the trick. He lunged for my chest with his head and buried his face between my boobs.

The force of his movement pushed me onto my back and we both slid down deeper between the sheets. He latched on to one of my nipples with his mouth and I felt his hand move from underneath him and grab the other; I pushed my chest against him and felt him fan the embers of my recent orgasm by nipping at one nipple and pinching the other.

You don't carry breasts like mine through adolescence and early-adulthood without learning patience. Hugo was like almost every other man I had ever screwed: determined to thoroughly explore my mammaries regardless of anything he might do to enhance my pleasure. I settled back enjoying the smooth coolness of the bed linen as he licked and fondled me. I twitched and mewled as he occasionally hit the right spot and sent smart tingles down to my gut.

I was intrigued that he made no attempt to kiss me. I made a mental note-to-self to ask Susan what the story was with not kissing punters. I have always enjoyed a good snog. Indeed the passionate tongue-wrestling I had enjoyed with her was one of the highlights of my new life so far. I was obviously not the first prostitute Hugo had hired, however; he was working to the same rule book. And in the meantime I got busy with my hands.

My right was trapped between us, but I managed to move it across to my pussy where I gently stroked and teased my clit, describing small circles around and on it. I was breathing more heavily and letting out deeper moans as she became turgid, then popped free of her protective hood and finally began demanding more urgent attention as she became hotter and stiff. I tentatively reached out to Hugo with my left hand. He didn't flinch or pull back when I stroked his chest; I was still unsure as to whether I was to await his instructions, or whether taking initiatives like this was permitted.

I stroked the soft hair on his chest. It was thickest around his nipples so that soon led to me stroking and then pinching his tiny nubs. I could feel his breathing and heart rate pick up as I excited him and inched my hand lower and down to his stomach as we wrestled together. By now I was pressing my mons against his thigh to increase my pleasure. I noticed he adjusted his position to accommodate me so simultaneously increased my pushing against him and slipped my hand down to grasp his prick.

He was, I would say, adequately endowed. His five or six inches were satisfyingly hard and curved slightly upwards to a large bulbous end. I explored him thoroughly with my fingers, first running my forefinger along his length and over his taut ball sack before tickling back upwards against his underside. I felt him shiver and his action on my tits increased significantly. I circled my fingers and thumb around his cock and began slowly running my hand up and down his length. He had both my nipples in a grip and was stretching my boobs away from my chest. As the discomfort increased to pain so I wanked him more vigorously. When he relaxed the pressure, so I slowed. This went on for several episodes before he released me and leaned backwards.

'I'm ready to fuck you now.'

Only his laboured breathing betrayed his outer calm and steady speaking voice. I smiled, released my grip on his dick and rolled backwards on the bed. I found the condoms at the bottom of my bag easily. My hand brushed against the half-used tube of lube and I pulled that out too.

'Tits or fanny?'

I waggled the lube at him.

'I beg your pardon?'

'Would you like to start be ramming your huge erection between my breasts. This lube makes it a great experience for both of us. Or would you prefer normal sex.'

He seemed to pause for a second, looking at the tube with some distaste.

'I'll take what I've paid for.'

He ran his hand between my legs and probed my vagina with an expert finger. I closed my eyes and moaned. His finger was thin but long and the pressure he exerted on the top of my sopping vaginal wall was wonderful.