The Wooing of a London SoubretteChapter 3
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The Wooing Of A London SoubretteChapter 4 free porn video
Although Sandy claimed to have forgiven her, Grace still felt incredibly guilty and so dragged her Danish friend to Hyde Park for a picnic the following day. She had been to the bakers and butchers on the way home and fried up some bacon to make sandwiches out of. She added a smattering of cakes and fizzy drink to the hamper and were happily eating the small feast and they lay down on the banks of the Serpentine chatting idly.
"Hey Sandy, he's nice," Grace muttered pointing at a jogger running past.
Sandy chuckled. "And there was me thinking you'd only have eyes for Terry."
"Oh don't start that again. I've said we can go out on a trial date. A sort of this is what we would get if we actually went out."
Sandy sighed. "Only you would come up with that."
"It's try before you buy ... well try before you window shop but it's same sort of thing."
"You are resisting him so much. Just go out with him."
Grace puffed at Sandy. "Yeah well don't start that again. Although he making me think though..."
Sandy cackled. "Ya see..."
"About business," Grace corrected her. "He is buying his own business. And we've been all over Europe, had lots of experience. I wouldn't mind running my own business but I couldn't do it on my own."
Sandy turned on the grass and smiled. "Doing what?"
"Massage Parlour. Strip club. Night club. Restaurant maybe. Anything like that."
Sandy nodded. "And you would need a partner to run the business when you and Terry have kids."
Grace sighed. "Who says I want kids?"
Sandy looked at her. "You've told me. And I don't, so it would be ideal."
"Well, I can see myself with a couple of girls."
"Not a little boy then?"
Grace screwed up her face. "I wouldn't know where to begin. I know everything about little girls, but nothing about boys."
"You've dated them for six years," Sandy replied and grinned. "When did you first allow guys to take you out, or stay the night, or sample your delights?"
Grace took a deep breath. "Well I was thirteen, and I wouldn't want to encourage that. I don't know. It's easier with girls as I understand the pressure I was under, but I have no idea what was driving Willie or Sam or George or any of the others."
"Hormones."
"Well yes, there is that. But I couldn't teach him how to do anything except how to go down on his girlfriend..."
"Or boyfriend."
"Or boyfriend, and that isn't great parenting."
Sandy sniggered. "Anyway, I would want to do that. Any child with one-half Grace genes is going to be pretty good in bed."
Grace giggled. "But I mean it, what about the business. If we work hard this Summer we should have enough to get somewhere nice. It doesn't have to be London."
Sandy nodded and smiled. "Yeah, let's work this Summer and then look. I think that's good."
"Hey, there is a package here for you," the receptionist called out as Grace walked past. Grace doubled back on herself to pick up the parcel and Sandy smiled.
"Not flowers this time, what?"
"Well it doesn't have a postmark so it must have been hand-delivered," Sandy guessed looking over the small box. "Or a motorbike maybe."
Grace sat the package down in the cold room and ran her front door key down the tape. She took out a small card on top in spidery handwriting that she read out.
Dear Sexy,
I hope these fit you.
With affection, Terry
"I can't look," Grace said dramatically and Sandy peered into the box and removed the packaging.
She gasped and pulled out a small green garment, and then another one. "They are silk."
"Silk what?" Grace asked, peeking at them and Sandy unfurled the skimpy clothing. It was a quarter-cup black bra with pea green cups and matching knickers with a high leg and black suspender belt attached.
"I hope he doesn't expect me to wear them all night," Grace murmured poking the bra. "I don't want my nipples unsupported all evening."
Sandy looked at Grace and then at her attire she had prepared for working in the parlour that day. "Oh. Really?"
Grace ignored the pointed comment and continued staring at the bra. "They'll rub on my dress," she whined and Sandy peered into the box.
She made another "oooh" sound and pulled out a see-through garment.
"Let me guess, the dress he wants me to wear."
"Oh Gracie. It's a nightie, look." She unfurled the garment that was a long, sweeping nightdress, completely see-through and with lace trim. It was open at the front and had no arms. Sandy looked at Grace jealously.
"You are so lucky. I wish I had a guy who would be so thoughtful," she mused and Grace sighed.
"Well you can have Terry if you want. I am beginning to have second thoughts," Grace mused and Sandy stared at her wide-eyed.
"You won't," she threatened. "He is the best thing that has happened to you since I've known you. You will let him take you out." Grace deliberated. "It's an order."
The following day, Grace and Sandy tentatively opened the door to the massage parlour and the receptionist smiled as they did. "More of your bloody post," she moaned and passed Grace a letter. It was addressed to her at the massage parlour and had a Crewe postmark.
"What does it say?" Sandy asked and Grace began to read it.
To the gorgeous Grace,I hope this reaches you fine. Making final preparations for Saturday and am excited.
I know you are wondering why I am making this effort, but I can't stop thinking about you. From the first cup of coffee in the morning, to inspecting pointing on roofs, to going to bed at night, you are always in my thoughts.
I have only been away from London for 24 hours but I am already missing your smile, your laugh and your beautiful, wonderful body. I can't wait until Saturday and I know we will have a great time.
Missing you lots,
Your adoring friend, Terry.
"Well he is sweet isn't he?" Sandy asked and Grace smiled.
"Yeah. He is in a way, but when the kids ask 'Mummy, Daddy, how did you meet?' what are we going to say?"
Sandy grinned and the bell went to call the girls into the little room for a customer to choice a liaison.
The burly gentleman sat down on the bench and Grace rubbed her hands. The receptionist had tried to catch her attention before she went in, but she was running late and didn't want to get into trouble. It would only be moaning about the amount of packages that she was having delivered.
She had been given two blow jobs and had sex twice, making a decent amount of cash and beginning to look forward to her date at the weekend. The burly gentleman nodded towards Grace and she walked with him to one of the rooms. "So sir, what is it to be?"
The portly gentleman snorted and looked down at the teenager standing next to him. He stroked his black beard and looked at her. "What are you offering?"
"Whatever you want?" Grace replied alluringly and wiggled her hips. "O-Levels, A good fucking. You name it." It was unusual for a client to be so evasive but he pulled out his wallet and opened it, showing her a badge. She sighed and stared at him. "I'm not breaking the law," she replied instinctively and he shook his head.
"Actually love, you are. So I can arrest you now, or..."
Grace groaned. She knew what he wanted and she knew she wouldn't be getting paid for it. "Or I let you fuck me," Grace finished for him, and the officer smiled. He started getting undressed.
Grace watched him, his hairy big belly and stained briefs. "Hey love, you need to get those off," he taunted her and she sighed, kicking off her shorts and top with ease. "Shaved cunt. You fucking slut," he told her and Grace ignored him. She was used to comments like that from punters, it made them feel good about themselves as they paid for the sex they couldn't convince anyone else to give them.
Grace slid a condom onto the police officer's undersized cock and he positioned her on all fours on the little massage table. He climbed behind her, his sweaty, smelly body pressed against hers.
"You're gonna love this," he boasted and Grace feigned a smile. "Little whore like you. Tell me, how old are you?"
"Twenty," Grace lied and he grinned.
"Same age as me daughter, and she ain't fucking for money." Grace ignored the comment and guided the man into her. He probably wouldn't be so small if he lost a bit of weight, Grace reasoned but she was used to being screwed by men who were less than well endowed or with large stomachs, it went with the territory.
Grace felt the cock enter her and he began back and forth movements. She wiggled her ass as he did but he was pulling all the way out and back in again. He was pumping her full of air and it was uncomfortable. It had been awhile since a punter had done that, and she forgot how much it hurt.
She faked a groan, and another, squeezing his cock with her muscles as best she could. She needed him to come, it was getting painful.
He was huffing and grunting, his belly rubbing up against her buttocks when he grunted and gripped her thighs roughly, squirting his load into the condom.
Grace discreetly expelled all the air he had pumped into her, as she got down from the bench and he stood waiting for her to remove the rubber sheath. She threw it into the bin, and cleaned his cock with a couple of tissues.
"I'll see you around kid," he told her as he opened the door, and left it open, two punters walking up the corridor to other rooms eyeing the naked Grace. She shut the door and sank down behind it, and cried.
Marisol
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The Wooing of a London SoubretteChapter 5
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