It’s Monday morning. Husband and dog have been attended to. One lies dozing in a basket by the boiler cupboard. The other has gone to wow the accountancy world. Frankly the dog has a more winning personality but struggles to operate a calculator. I sit in the tub chair in my office reading a book; a little gothic number by Mary Shelley. In my constant quest for self improvement I am reading the classics this year.
Sadly the spell is broken by the sound of the doorbell. I go downstairs to take possession of one neat package from a smiling courier. Once unpacked I am delighted to discover that my purchase includes a discreet faux leather pouch. I stow it away at the bottom of my work bag. Then I phone The County Hotel.
I always hire the hotel’s Thameside Room for my monthly sales meeting. It is large enough for a team of twenty associates and has a pleasant view of the river. This month’s objective is to push our recently introduced Black Pearl range of cosmetics. Sales have been sluggish to date. Apart from Sally. A while back, following her husband’s departure, I introduced her to Wayne from the gym. It seems he in turn has introduced her to the entire distaff side of his family.
“So who can tell me the main benefit of the Black Pearl range?”
There is silence. Except for the squeak of Sally’s chair, as she bounces excitedly hand in the air.
“They enhance, not just match, black skin tones.”
“Excellent, Sally.” Perhaps I should introduce Wayne to the rest of my team. “So if we could all follow Sally’s example and urgently find prospects for these important additions to our portfolio.”
The meeting closes. I watch ladies swarm like locusts over the trestle tables laden with tea, finger sandwiches and fondant fancies.
I congratulate Sally.
“I couldn’t have done it without you, Victoria. I’m so grateful.”
Until recently her wide eyed enthusiasm and willingness to please have rather irritated me. But you can’t argue with success. I smile down into her pale blue eyes.
“I have a treat for you. Room sixty-nine. Finish your tea first.”
With a wave to the rest of the team I retrieve my bag and leave the room.
I just have time to undress, prepare my surprise and pull on the hotel’s fluffy bathrobe before she arrives. When I open the robe to reveal my new black strap-on her face says it all. It is like being reacquainted with an old friend. My thick teats harden to hat pegs as she chokes on the shaft. Her eyes fill with tears. The juices start to flow as my fingers dig deeper into her blonde scalp.
When the tears have dried we lie in bed together. I stroke her hair while she sucks contentedly on a tit. I consider champagne. I order a bottle of prosecco. It appears on a shiny tray transported by a smart Jamaican wearing a patterned waistcoat. Sally sits up in bed watching him place the iced bottle and two glasses on the table. She smiles brightly.
“Tell me sir, what type of foundation product does your wife use?”
At times like this, I understand just how Dr Frankenstein must have felt.
