The next few days were quiet as far as my work went, so David and I spent all our time together, we went shopping and it was nice not worrying about the prices any more.
Our bank balance was looking a lot healthier too and our sex life improved no end, he liked to hear about the things I’d done with my clients.
On the day I was booked to meet the two Americans, Jane came round and we got ready together, David sat watching us and grinning, so we each allowed him to fasten our stockings to the suspender belts.
The guys met our taxi outside the hotel and smiled their appreciation as we alighted. “Wow Paul,” said Brad, “These ladies sure are something else.”
Brad was tall and good looking, dressed in an Armani suit, he looked every inch the important business man. Paul, his lawyer was about six feet four or five, black and with a completely shaven head, looking more like an all in wrestler than a lawyer.
“You must be Wendy.” He smiled showing perfect teeth and kissed my hand in welcome. “Would you like a drink?” We strolled through to the bar where Brad led us to a booth and a waiter took our orders.
They were good hosts, polite, charming and very easy on the eye, Paul paid particular attention to me, asking me all about myself and seemed genuinely interested in my answers.
“So do you live in London?” He asked, and I nodded, “Yes.” “Where do you like to go at night?”
“Well we often go out with Jane and her husband to a pub or a club, you know, just for a few drinks and a dance or two.”
“Will you take Brad and I to a pub?”
“Sure, any particular pub?”
“No, just a typical English pub, what do you call them over here?”
“A boozer,” I laughed.
“Yeah, take us to a boozer.”
The door man whistled us up a black cab and I instructed him to take us to the Blind Beggar in Whitechapel.
On the way there, we told them about the Kray twins and how they ruled London in the fifties and sixties and how they killed a man in the pub we were going to.
“Ronnie Kray just walked into the pub one night in 1966 and shot a man called George Cornell with a luger,” I said. “But that was the beginning of the end for them as they were jailed in 1969.”
“Sounds like Al Capone stuff.” Brad laughed as the cab pulled up outside the pub.
We walked in feeling right out of place in our evening wear, but we were greeted cordially by a young barman who asked us what he could get for us. “Two beers please and two large brandies,” said Brad.
“Wot kind of Britneys you want squire?”
“Eh?” Brad wasn’t just out of his depth, he was positively drowning.
“Beers,” I hissed in his ear, “Britney Spears, beers, get it?”
“Yeah, oh yeah, two of this one please.” And he pointed to the London Pride pump.
“Any particular fine and dandy?”
“Say what?” Brad looked round for help.
“Martell, please,” I smiled.
Paul was equally mystified, but he was laughing too as we collected our drinks and found a seat.
“What the hell kind of language was that?” he laughed and took a long pull of his pint.
“Cockney rhyming slang,” I told him, “Once he pegged you as Americans, he put it on for your benefit.”
“Say, this beer’s not bad,” Brad said, “Another one?”
“Sure,” said Paul, but Jane and I refused, we’d only had a couple of sips of ours.
Paul went with Brad to the bar and we heard loud laughter coming from them both, looking round we saw them in the middle of a group of people trying out their new found rhyming slang. The next thing we saw was Paul being shown to the karaoke machine on the stage where he launched into an up beat version of New York, New York. The whole pub stopped to watch, he was amazing, throughout the whole song, there was not a voice to be heard, only Pauls and he finished to a chorus of cheers and yells of, “More, more.”
We moved on from there to a club we knew in Wapping, we’d only been there before with our hubbies, so we wouldn’t be recognised. The guys went to get our drinks and Jane grabbed me for a dance. “Let’s give them a hint of what’s to come.”
We began swaying sexily in time to the music and just as Brad and Paul turned away from the bar with our drinks, she kissed me slipping her tongue between my teeth.
“Hey ladies, wait for us.”
Brad and Paul were smiling at us and gesturing to the table where they’d set our drinks down.
“We were just getting friendly.” I smiled.
“Well hey, let’s finish our drinks and we can all get friendly back at our hotel,” Brad laughed.
I liked the sound of that, I was feeling very horny and I could tell from the way he was looking at me, Paul was getting horny too.
“That feels like a garter button,” he said as he ran his thumb over the tiny little nub of my suspender fastening beneath the thin material of my dress.
“Of course,” I laughed, “I never wear anything else.”
“Never?”
“Never,” I confirmed, then put my lips close to his ear, “As you’ll find out very soon.”
Sitting at the table next to us, Brad was checking out Jane’s tonsils, from the inside, so they barely acknowledged us when I told Paul I’d show him round the club.
“It might be more fun back in our suite,” he suggested.
“I thought you weren’t ever going to suggest it.”
Leaning into me, he kissed my neck giving me a sudden jolt of pleasure.
“I wanted to stay there from the first moment I saw you.”
“Why?” I teased, “Are you thinking of doing rude things to me?”
“Absolutely,” he smiled and stroked my upper thigh, “Very rude things indeed.”
“In that case we’ll go.”
He had me on the brink of an orgasm in the taxi by continually stroking me just under my skirt and flicking his tongue in my ear.
“I’m going to fuck you until you scream,” he said softly.
I placed my hand in his lap and felt the iron bar in his pants. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Back in their suite, he poured out two drinks after showing me his bedroom and grinned with surprise when he came in to find me lying on top of the bed wearing just my stockings and a smile.
“Oh fuck,” he gasped, “You look so fucking sexy.”
He practically ripped his clothes off and I felt a sudden rush of moisture between my legs as I saw his hugely thick cock jutting out obscenely from his groin.
He got onto the bed and took me into his arms, I tasted the brandy on his lips as we kissed and I felt his cock pressing into my stomach.
“You smell like a dream,” he said as he kissed my nipples before moving downwards to kiss my stomach.
I gasped as he kissed my shaven mound just above my sex and a soft moan of pleasure escaped me as his tongue snaked in between my cunt lips.
“Oh yes Paul,” I moaned and arched my back to thrust myself against him, “Oh fuck yes.”
He gripped both my ankles and held my legs wide apart while he ate me, he licked right up inside me, nibbled on my clitoris and he even licked at my nether hole while all I could do was to hold his head as I writhed beneath him.
I felt his thumb slide up into my anus and I squealed at the intrusion.
“Let me go,” I gasped, “I need to taste you.”
He needed no second bidding to turn around and lie beside me, his lovely big cock practically in my face.
“Nice,” I sighed as my mouth closed over it, “This is what I call a cock.”
I heard him groaning as I ran my tongue over and around the leaking dome, pulling my mouth off him, I cupped his massive balls and told him what I wanted.
“Fuck my mouth,” I urged him and kissed the massive shaft, “I want to swallow your cum.”
He put his massive tool back in my mouth just as the door was kicked in and about a dozen masked men piled in holding guns at the ready.
“Armed police,” they shouted, “Get on the floor and put your hands on your head, do it, do it now.”
I screamed with terror, but a woman officer took me to one side and said, “Get dressed Wendy, it’s not you we want.”
“How do you know my name?”
“We know everything about you Wendy, you need to be more careful in your choice of . . . clients.”
I looked across at Paul lying naked and handcuffed on the floor, suddenly he looked ridiculous.
“Sorry,” he mouthed at me and then listened as an officer read him his rights.
“Wendy your friend is outside in another police car, you’re both free to go.”
“Wait,” Paul called to her from the floor, “Please let me pay the lady for her time, there are two envelopes on the table that belong to Wendy and Jane.”
An inspector who seemed to be in charge nodded and allowed me to pick the envelopes up, so I nodded gratefully at Paul and left along with the female officer.
Sure enough Jane was in a patrol car outside and the officer drove us to my house in complete silence.
“What, no taxis about?” was all my husband said as he opened the door.
oooOooo
