Life is good. I take that as a given. That makes me sound like a real bitch, and probably I am. However, I am a realist. I deal in facts, figures and hard cash—end of.
I have never been denied anything, which definitely contributes to my attitude toward life. I am the only child of two successful, wealthy lawyers. They deal in corporate law. I lacked nothing as a child. Ok, love and affection were in short supply, but that was all.
I was sent to the finest boarding school, where I excelled, naturally. I was also very sporty and headed the school debating society. Of course, I was Head Girl. I was never short of friends or hangers-on, wanting to share my spotlight. I was happy to do that, up to a point, but I never let anyone get close.
To cap it all, I am beautiful, really beautiful. Conceited cow, I hear you say. No, I am not. Just honest. I am brilliant and beautiful. What a combination. I can’t be bothered with false modesty. It really pisses me off.
I have flame-red hair, sparkling green eyes, cat’s eyes, long dark lashes, high cheekbones, full lips and perfect teeth. I am tall and very slender, but I have been blessed with incredible breasts. They are large and firm, tipped with perfect areolae and very prominent nipples. My vagina is perfectly formed, covered by a bush of red.
At school, the girls all showered together. I know my body was envied and lusted after. Being an all-girls school in a remote location ultimately led to sexual experimentation and exploration between the pupils. I suspect the staff were part of the journey. My sexual education also began early in my teens, but I had set my sights higher, naturally.
Schoolgirl fumblers were not for me. Nor ancient, lesbian crones masquerading as paragons moulding young lives. Female on female for me was unthinkable.
Shall I explain?
My parents were proud of me in their own way. I had the best of everything. The fact that I was a beauty to be paraded in front of their influential friends was a bonus.
I was shown off at every event when I was home for the holidays. I need to explain though that I was a late developer, a bit of a plain Jane. When I was fifteen, I looked years younger and was treated accordingly. That changed when I went home just after my 16th birthday. I hadn’t seen my parents for over a year while they had travelled extensively, furthering their careers and their bank balances.
On entering the plush country mansion, which was my parents’ home, I was greeted with perfunctory hugs and astonished faces. I was taller than my mother and was a stunning beauty; after the initial shock, they couldn’t wait to show me off. They had arranged a cocktail party for the following evening. I had been informed of it and accordingly had purchased a dress. I was well prepared.
The next day, I showered and dressed with great care and attention to every detail. When I descended the stairs, I knew by the reaction that I had got it right, naturally.
My flame red hair, was in a modest French plait, my makeup subtle, but my eyes looked hypnotic. My lips a demure pink gloss. The face of a sweet, innocent 16-year-old.
The dress, too, was deliberately deceptive. Virginal white to add to the illusion. It was a floor-length voile which whispered against my frame as I moved. Less obvious was the split behind the sheer panel, which stretched from the floor to my waist. Depending on how I sat or stood, I could reveal everything as I chose.
I wore nothing underneath, naturally.
I had shaped the flame-red bush into a heart. It shone like a beacon when exposed. The top was a halter neck. Very modestly, it came up to my neck and tied in a bow with the ribbon trailing down my bare back. It completed the “illusion “of modesty and innocence.
My full, firm breasts were bare; my nipples were visible, but everyone would pretend that they couldn’t see them.
My parents beamed approvingly and handed me a glass of champagne before introducing me to their influential friends. I could see eyes surreptitiously roving down my body, lingering on my breasts. Little did they know I was completely naked underneath. By the end of the evening, a select few would have seen beneath the hidden panel and the flame-red heart. I’d have them panting for more. Which they would get, but not yet. As the evening progressed, the champagne and cocktails flowed, tongues loosened, inhibitions slipped. Alcohol took over. But not for me. I took nothing, replenishing my glass discreetly with sparkling water. However, I gave the impression of being a little tipsy, which was part of my plan.
I knew who my targets were. They were older, very wealthy and well-connected. I had no doubts, naturally, there’s that word again, that I had the brains and looks to succeed in my chosen career in the future, but a little insurance would not go amiss.
I didn’t have too long to wait. The lights had dimmed. Couples had moved outside to the patio to dance, network and flirt. My father appeared and introduced me to Target One and suggested I dance with him. His wife did not look too happy until my handsome father smoothly engaged her in a slow, sultry dance. Target one led me to a darkened part of the patio. Under the guise of the dance, he pressed close. I felt his erection and smiled. His hand on my bare back was sinuously moving towards the low dip of the skirt of my dress. His fingers moved below the fabric; his sharp intake of breath indicated that he discovered my naked state. The fingers moved rapidly and found my crease; they pushed into my butt and parted my cheeks. His breathing was very laboured.
Innocently, I smiled at him and suggested that he might like to sit down and have a rest. He nodded silently, and I led him to a cushioned area. As I sat opposite him, I carefully moved the panel and exposed my nakedness and red bush. I pretended I hadn’t noticed and chatted in my girlish, tipsy voice, while his eyes feasted on my inviting pussy. I told him of my plans to become a lawyer in corporate law, like my parents. Could he perhaps advise on the best University?
Oh, did I forget to mention he is the Dean of the Law Faculty at the esteemed Highland University? A visit to the University with him as my personal guide was arranged. Result.
Discreetly, I replaced the panel as I stood. He grudgingly accompanied me back to his stony-faced wife. Somehow, I don’t think she likes me!
I performed the same move on Target 2, but this time disguised as a dance hold; his hands found their way to my breasts and groped and stroked. Again, he pressed his erection against me. As we sat for him to catch his breath, my dress parted to give him a full view of my heart-shaped pussy.
Again, a personal, guided tour of his place of work was arranged. Result.
Oh, you are wondering who he is? The top King’s Counsellor for the Highland area. Reluctantly, he accompanied me back inside to where his cold-faced partner was chatting to the wife of Target One. She was his PA, there in an official capacity, but I’m pretty sure he was giving her one. I don’t think I will be on her Christmas List either.
Target three received the same treatment. I couldn’t believe they had all been so easily snared. But a slightly tipsy innocent teenager with large breasts was too tempting. This was my main target; as I danced, I spun slightly, and the dress parted. His eyes feasted on the sexy bush. As we moved back together, I pretended to stumble and giggled. His hand shot out to catch me, but somehow it was under the panel. No one noticed. They were too intoxicated, and to be honest, there was a fair amount of groping going on. Target three steered me away from the other dancers. I played the tipsy teen well, thanking him for supporting me so well. By this time, one hand was inside my top, fondling my breast and nipple, the other hand was moving up my thigh, inching closer to my now soaking vagina. I felt so powerful and in control. His fingers pushed my folds apart and found my sweet, moist centre. His breathing became erratic, and his hands more urgent and pressing. I was enjoying this too much; this was not the plan. He was to fall under my spell. If we hadn’t been interrupted by a momentary power cut, stopping the music and breaking my trance, I would have let him fuck me there and then. All was not lost, however. He’d had a taste and needed to finish what he had started. Yes, another personal tour. Yet another result. This time The Scottish Parliament Offices. He was an MSP and a government minister. Again, he was accompanied by a hard-faced female. She was another MSP. She won’t be getting my vote. Judging by the way she looked at me, I’ll not be getting her vote either.
All in all a good night’s work. My insurance and success for the future were guaranteed.
~~~~~~
Those images and events of ten years ago flashed through my brain. Reality and my surroundings hit me. My conceit, pride, and yes, arrogance had led me to this. I had made enemies, foes, on my climb to the top. I had trampled and used people carelessly. I had used my looks and brains without thought or conscience. I had secrets.
The voice resounded in my head.
£2,500.
Where had I heard it before? A feeling of dread engulfed me with a single word
SOLD!
