Wife delivers for the Pizza
- 3 years ago
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Veronica had been enjoying her chat with Douglass until his mention of the swimming gear and its coming revelation to a watching world. It was a cold day outside, something which the warmth of the Lamb Tavern had almost, but not quite, caused her to forget. This chat with another, and friendly, human being was a welcome change from her day thus far.
As I have said earlier, Veronica was not one to display her charms too blatantly and openly. She would dress decorously even in the summer, never exposing much of herself. Even in her work-outs and jogging sessions she would wear all-enveloping Lycra exercise wear. Only at the swimming pool would she let her bare arms and legs be seen, and then she was mostly under water.
She would never shower with the other girls and women, preferring to go home and do this in privacy. Ever since the fifteen year old Veronica had come to England to complete her education, she had been becoming more and more prudish. What had happened to her today would obviously have embarrassed most women but, for Veronica, it is difficult to exaggerate the awfulness of her mortification and shame.
That was why the conversation with this tall and very aristocratic gentleman with his artless knack of putting people at their ease had been such a welcome relief to the ultra-embarrassed girl. Then he had told her she was soon to display her swimwear to a watching and wondering world and had collapsed into paroxysms of helplessly abandoned mirth.
Finally he recovered and wiped the tears away from his eyes, apologising for any distress he might have caused. He turned the conversation deftly to other matters. He was obviously highly knowledgeable about current financial and business trends and events, including the downturn of business in Veronica's own chosen field. He sympathised with her discontent and unease at her immediate job prospects.
Then he switched to the subject of the theatre and asked what shows she had seen lately. When he heard that she had not been to the West End in years he slapped her playfully on the hand. "Well - we must surely do something about that! All that wealth of the world's finest talent to be seen day by day and you stick at home or in the pub! Shame on you, my girl! I'll be in touch after today is over! We must go to a few shows together - if you like?"
Veronica said she would very much like and the chat paused for a few minutes as both enjoyed a spell of convivial silence. Then Douglass looked at his watch and whistled.
"Wow! Time certainly goes fast when you're enjoying yourself! Time for you to get your next instructions. Here you are. I'll wait while you read them and then be getting along."
He produced one of the by now familiar envelopes from his brief case and passed it to her with a friendly and sympathetic smile. She opened it and read the following:-
"After your revivifying drink and no doubt pleasant conversation with the excellent MacTavish ( a very able and delightful gentleman, as you no doubt realise by now!), I fear that the time has now come for you to venture forth and present that fair and beauteous body anew to the rude gaze of the wondering and delighted hoi polloi. How sad that the weather on this, your great day of destiny, has proved to be less than ideal for the exposure of that tender flesh to the elements!
"Would you please be so kind as to go to the Ladies and restore the ravages which time and several cups of tea and coffee etc. have done to your make - up - and at the same time, remove your blouse. As you make your stately and dignified way down the stairs and leave this most excellent of establishments, you will hand the discarded garment, with a warm smile and friendly word or two, to whatever smartly dressed City Gent is standing nearest the door. Leave the Market and walk north up Gracechurch Street and along Bishopsgate. Do not hurry. Further directions will be given to you, all in good time.
Note from the author: If you read my stories, you know I usually write in 1st person. Of course, they can't all be me. Most of my stories are "true" stories adapted from something someone told me about in a chat room or admitted by one of my girl friends. Like this one ... *** I don't know. I'm in my 30s now and it seems my craving for sex is worse than ever. My husband loves this and we often spend whole evenings romping in bed. Trouble is, he is gone so often on business. He knows I use toys...
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Sara shifts in her bonds, adjusting her position in the chair in a futile attempt to move her sodden sex closer to the vibrato Sara shifts in her bonds, adjusting her position in the chair in a futile attempt to move her sodden sex closer to the vibrator strapped between her legs, its tip in only the most minimal contact with her flesh.? Her state of arousal being compounded by the computer screen in front of her, showing a seemingly never ending slide show of pornographic video clips.?...
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