You Need Excitement in Your Life

"No problem, do whatever you need to do."

Walter wiped his hands on a hand towel and then he eased the straps of my camisole and bra off of my shoulders, the camisole fell instantly to my lap, I opened my eyes for the first time since Walter had begun to massage my face. My bra was still mainly in place, the cups still covering most of my breasts, just sagging forwards slightly. Wally dipped his fingertips into the pot of moisturiser and began to massage it into the top of my shoulders, the oil was rubbed well in before his hands moved down over my upper chest and then my décolletage, he collected a little more cream and started to rub it into the rise of my breasts and slowly his hands disappeared from view under my bra cups.

"Everything still okay Victoria?"

I looked into his eyes through the mirror in front of me, I smiled at him and nodded my head before I closed my eyes again and revelled in the feeling of Walter's gentle massage down lower and lower over my breasts until I felt the lower strap of my bra slip as his fingertips eased my bra lower down and my breasts were totally exposed. Walter spent ten minutes massaging my breasts when a loud 'Ding' resonated around the whole shop as a customer came through the front door.

"Excuse me for a moment please Victoria!"

Walter slipped from the back room and into the shop, "Good morning sir, how can I help you?"

"You had a large gold pendant on a necklace, I think the pendant was Edwardian but the necklace was Victorian, it was in the window yesterday, I'm interested in the pendant but not the necklace, I have found a suitable Edwardian necklace that would match the pendant perfectly, do tell me that you still have the pendant."

"I was just getting ready to photograph the necklace and pendant; I'm getting the model ready in the back room at the moment."

I eased the door open slightly; the man was a toff, young and handsome but a little vapid and lacking in any real masculine quality. There were a few like him out in the villages, the children of moneyed parents who would one day rule all of our lives just because his parents could afford to send him to Eaton School. He had produced his own chain, it was heavier even than the huge gold chain that Walter had matched the pendant with. In my mind, Walter had made an artistically good match between the pendant and chain, the one the toff was holding was far too gaudy.

I could see that Walter was torn, he was a business man, he wanted to make a sale but also he was a man, an artist and he wanted to photograph me with the pendant the way he had presented it. Walter was pacing the floor up and down tapping his fingers against his chin. "Can I make a suggestion?"

The customer looked a little confused but then he nodded his head.

"The thing is, you are right, the pendant and chain I'm selling do come from disparate periods in time but I think they make a pleasant match. Why don't you give me thirty minutes to get my model ready and return, look at the pendant on my chain against my model's skin and we'll swap the chains over and you can compare the two in situ as it were, see if it's worth the extra nine hundred pounds for the combination as I'm selling it, if you still prefer your own chain I'll split them and give you an extra ten percent discount on the pendant on its own."

The young man shook Walters hand, "I'll run an errand for my mother and return in thirty minutes."

Wally returned to me in the back room and he suddenly became all business-like, straight behind me, unfastened my bra clasp and tossed my bra to one side, he started humming to himself as he took a fifty millimetre diameter sable brush, he dipped it into the pot of mineral powder and began dabbing, tapping and flicking the powder all over my face, neck, chest and breasts. In just five minutes I had an all over coating of foundation powder and then Wally started working on my eyes, he put a line of dark blue powder on the outside of my eyelid and a line of yellow powder about half way to the bridge of my nose and then he used a fan brush to blend the blue, yellow and base foundation together, he spent five minutes on each eyelid but when he finally finished and I opened my eyes I was shocked at the result. My eyelids started out a deep blue on the outsides and transitioned through a hundred shades of blue, through green to yellow, the darkest part of my eyes were the lightest now because of the flash of yellow.

My lips were next, pillar-box red around the outer ridge of my lips to define their outline and then he blended different colours down to coral pink closest to my mouth and then all of the different colours were pulled in together with a paintbrush until it looked like just one colour but that my lips actually popped out, away from my face. It was obvious that the lipstick that Walter had used was far too soft to be used on its own and once he was happy he sealed it all in under a coat of lip varnish.

Wally eased my camisole back into place but without a bra under it, the camisole on its own looked very rude to me. "Will you be okay to pose like this for my customer when he returns to look at the necklace?"

I know that I should have said no but I had spent most of my life saying no and missing out on all the fun so I took a deep breath and nodded my head. Walter set up a corner of his shop to look like a Victorian drawing room and he posed me with his expensive necklace sitting in a velvet upholstered and gold leaf decorated corner seat. He had taken a dozen or so photographs before the door opened and the toff walked back in.

He looked at me closely, possibly a little too closely, he assumed that because he was from the upper class and I was definitely lower working class, that I would fall at his feet, as he looked at the pendant he picked it up and in the pretence of inspecting the pendant he rubbed the backs of his fingers against my breasts. The chain was swapped and the Edwardian chain was a little longer and a lot heavier than the Victorian one so the pendant disappeared from view down the front of my camisole top. Instead of simply pulling the chain to get the pendant out the toff stuck his hand down the front of my camisole and had a good old fumble around my tits before he pulled the pendant out and rested it on top of my camisole.

Walter looked a little uncomfortable at the way the customer manhandled my personal jewellery as he fished out the pendant, not uncomfortable upset or uncomfortable embarrassed but uncomfortable at the way his cock was responding in his trousers. There were several photographs taken with the pendant laying on top of the camisole but Wally didn't look so pleased with the results.

"Did you want to photograph the pendant against my bare skin rather than my top?"

Wally's eyebrows lifted in surprise, then he grinned and nodded his head. I was right out there in the open shop, an acre of glass window looking out onto the main street of my little village so anyone who knew me could walk past at any moment. I just slipped the thin shoulder straps off of my shoulders and let the camisole fall into my lap again. Wally took several photographs and finally looked happy. The customer asked me if I'd wear the pendant again with the Victorian chain with my top off so I did, this time Walter swapped the chains over and handed the toff his Edwardian chain back. Walter positioned the pendant for best effect and took a few more photographs.

I finally took the necklace off and pulled my camisole top back up, I'd risked exposure to my neighbours long enough. Walter did the deal with the customer, he sold the pendant and chain but had to agree to giving the toff a ten percent discount to sell both items. I thought that losing six hundred pounds on the sale would upset Walter but he seemed happy enough. He was fitting diamond cluster clip on earrings to my earlobes and he sighed, "At least I'd added twenty percent on up front just in case I got a difficult customer who spotted the different periods!" And then Wally laughed his head off.

I let Walter dress me with his jewellery stock and photograph me for the next thirty minutes, my washing would have finished and I really needed to get home, I'd missed my breakfast and it was rapidly approaching lunch time. We were in the back room of the shop, I picked up my bra and was just lowering my camisole top again to put it on. "You know that I promised you twenty pounds for an hours modelling for me?"

I nodded my head, "Well, it's been an hour and forty-five minutes so really I owe you thirty-five pounds, the thing is, I have this little problem..." Wally looked down at his trousers and his cock was straining at the seams to get out. "...would you be willing to help me out with this little problem for fifteen minutes to make up your pay to forty quid, just a helping hand, that's all."

I said yes again, I don't think I would have let him fuck me but what would a little helping hand cost me, very little. Wally pulled his trousers and underpants down, I was sitting on the chair that I'd used when he put my makeup on, I leaned forwards and took his cock in my right hand and his balls in my left. I juggled with his balls as I massaged his cock and while I was doing all of that Walter was holding his camera and photographing my efforts.

"Is this okay Walter?"

Wally gasped out a long drawn out, "Yeeeeeeeessssssss!"

I could feel that Wally was getting close to his end game and he suddenly eased my head forward, brought my lips to within a few millimetres of his cockhead, "Open your mouth...quickly!"

I thought that Wally had changed his mind and now wanted oral sex but as I opened my lips he let fly, the flashes from the ring around the lens was like a strobe light as he photographed his semen flying into my mouth. "Keep your mouth open please!"

Wally quickly bent down and photographed into my mouth, "Another twenty quid if you'll just tilt your head back with your mouth wide open and let my semen slip down your throat while I photograph it!"

I hadn't tasted anything quite so disgusting in my mouth before, I could spit away twenty pounds or swallow my pride and Walter's disgusting semen and my forty pound payday would turn into a sixty pound one. I slowly lifted my chin as Wally followed the progress with his camera, the flash going off so fast and so often that it was warming up my mouth.

I put my bra back on and Walter took a hundred pictures as I did and then I covered up with my camisole, I'd opened the front door setting off the bell that sounded as big as a church bell, I stopped and turned, Walter was taking photographs of me from behind as I walked away from him, showing off my buns in my very short shorts. "That guy, the one who bought the necklace, do you know where he lives?"

I had tried to ask the question in as uninterested way as possible. "He's Peter Fenton-Williams, do you know the massive house overlooking the lake on the way to Wellingborough?"

I nodded my head, "Well, that's Peter's father's house, Peter has a large house that's built in the grounds at the back of the main house."

I nodded my head to show I understood what Walter had said and before I left the shop I lifted my handbag and said, "Thanks Walter, I had a great time and thanks for the sixty pounds as well, that will really come in handy."

The lights on the drying line were all dry so I had to pull them all down and hang out the coloureds. The lights were all folded, the few things that needed ironing were ironed and the rest just put away folded and all before my mum got home.

I turned down dinner because I was going to a party, the overnight party at my best friend Elle's house, my best imaginary friend that was. It took me an hour to get to Mark's house, he and Dawn were eating dinner when I arrived. I was still dressed in the camisole top and lilac bra but had changed my shorts for a short skirt.

Mark had done a little shopping for me, he had got me tight black leggings and a black turtleneck jumper, thin leather gloves, just a little thicker than latex gloves, a new ski mask, black mid-length socks and good quality climbing shoes, not boots, the kind of climbing shoes that free-climbers use, less like shoes and more like sticky latex painted on to my feet.

We had to go into the King's Head because Mark had a few customers that wanted things, just little things like phones and iPads. Customers came and went all evening and Mark sold about ten thousand pounds worth of goods for around fifteen hundred pounds. I felt a little disappointed for him that he had sold so much stuff and had so such a relatively small amount of money from it. Mark laughed at my disappointment, "This stuff is still from the warehouse job, if you remember it took less than ten minutes of our time and I passed on the TVs for eight grand and I've so far made four thousand pounds from the games, tablets and phones. Twelve thousand pounds for just ten minutes work, even football players don't usually get that kind of salary.

We had to drive back to Mark's house, there would be no point in going out to 'Work' too early, not until people were into the deepest part of their sleep cycle. Mark, Dawn and I went to bed for a while, I was fucked several times and Dawn took one load of Mark's semen. We didn't leave enough time to do any actual sleeping before we went out to work dressed from head to toe in black. We had to walk though; there was something in the law in England that if you used your own car to commit a crime and if you were caught your car would automatically be confiscated and sold to pay towards reparation or crushed if the car had no intrinsic value.

Mark stole a Vauxhall estate car, he showed me how to get into that particular model without a key and without setting off the alarm system. He hotwired the ignition and smashed the steering lock, I doubted that I'd have the strength to break the steering lock but working out which two wires to twist together and which one to touch to earth to turn the car over, that would be easier to learn.

We drove out to a house in the country; fortunately there were no dogs to bark even though there was a kennel in the back garden. Apparently they had a dog right up until a few days before but that dog had been knocked down in the road and had died, the people that lived in the house were just a little too slow to replace the dog.

Mark gave me a description of the layout of the house, "First thing you do, the very first thing, before you look around for anything head straight down to the back door and get it open, always remember the fastest route to your exit, just in case anything goes wrong."

I was in the house in two minutes flat, I couldn't use the bathroom window because that was closed but the window into the master bedroom was open a few inches so I had to be extra quiet when I pulled my body through the opening. I tiptoed past the man and woman sleeping in the bed, remembered waking my father and that he had masturbated himself before going back to sleep.

I opened the back door and Mark followed me back into the kitchen, I was about to go through into the living room but Mark stopped me, he directed me towards the stairs but not up them, we walked down the side of the stairs and mark opened the door that I had assumed would hold the electricity and gas meter cupboards but there was a room under there, a room with a steel clad doorway and two mortise locks, one at the top and one at the bottom of the door.

Mark had a little roll of tools in his pocket, one he slipped into the keyhole and applied a slight clockwise pressure with a weight and then he slid a tool that looked like the thing a dentist scrapes the plaque off of the backs of teeth with. His hand kept going in and out, the weight slipped a little, "That's the first lever lifted, just six more to go for this lock."

The process seemed to speed up once mark had lifted the first lever and soon the first lock was opened. Mark repeated the process on the second lock. From getting in the house to having the steel door open took Mark just one hour, two top of the line, seven lever, high security locks defeated by a man and a pocket full of toothpicks.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw in the small room behind that steel door, there were piles of money, Sterling as well as Euros and US Dollars, there were paintings and Jewells, gold and silver trinkets. Mark just took the money, all of it; every last penny of it went straight into a nylon folding shopping bag. All of the doors were left open, there was a basic premise when burgling an occupied house, you have to open doors and drawers to get at things, that was a risk worth taking but actually closing a door or drawer was an unnecessary opportunity for things to go wrong.

"Besides, I've heard on the grapevine that a bunch of young punks are on the prowl tonight, they'll take advantage of the open back door and muddy the waters for us when the police get here."

We dropped the car off just around the corner from where we had stolen it and walked back to Mark's house. We counted the money in Mark's kitchen, nine thousand Euros, fifteen thousand US Dollars and forty thousand pounds. "What will you do if I give you ten thousand pounds?"

"Anything you want me too!"

Mark laughed, "I mean what would you do with the money?"

"I'd spend it like crazy!"

"And that's why I'm just going to give you a few hundred pounds, I'm going to give you a job, I'm going to train you how to pick locks, how to stake out a property, how to work out entry and exit strategies, how to defeat burglar alarms. We'll have fun, plenty of opportunities for sex but you'll have to go on birth control, you can't climb up walls with a fat belly."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"What if I wanted to get back at someone, would you help me to burgle them?"

"Sure I will but you have to get the fact that you want to hurt them out of your head, you'll trip up if you do a job for the wrong reasons. So, who has upset you then?"

"A guy called Peter Fenton-Williams from..."

Mark cut me short, "Lives in a big house in the back garden of his father's mansion, what did he do to piss you off?"

"He threw his weight around earlier today in Simpson's Antiques, I was doing a little modelling for Mr. Simpson and Peter Fenton-Williams groped my tits without asking permission."

"Well, do you want to just irritate him, upset him or totally piss him off for ever?"

"I'd love to destroy him totally if that were possible."

Mark smiled, "Okay, I have already looked into his and his father's houses, they are well protected, they have a good burglar alarm system that forces them to close every window in the place when they go to bed, their alarm won't energise if a single window is open or a door unlocked. Sometimes Peter entertains his gambling friends, in the past I've provided girls to work his party but he hates to pay the full price for anything, his father has taught him to only pay wholesale, never retail."

"He did that today, forced Mr. Simpson to give him a ten percent discount on a necklace he was buying."

"So, we'll have to work out a plan, I might have to use you as bait, especially if you think he's already taken a fancy to you. Do you think that you could stand him pawing at you again or even actually fuck you?"

"I'd look on it as a job; I'd do whatever it took to get the job done."

"And on that front, could you put Peter on the back burner until you're a little better trained?"

"I'm a distance runner, I'm used to playing the long game, the cat and mouse until the time is right, conserve my energy and then pounce when my opponent least expects it."

Mark laughed again, "Yep, well we'll start by waking Dawn up and having another round of fucking before we get some sleep. On Monday I'll make you a job offer through the post, you'll have to get used to lying to your parents about the job until you get a flat of your own and move out."