Ann's Awakening

'Oh my God!' he said, 'how's a guy supposed to cope with this sort of thing? Could we fuck someplace?' Ann realised he was American.

Tina somehow calmed him down, gave him her telephone number, with a promise for that evening, and bought the boots, with staff-discount!

As we left the store, Ann said, 'That's one way to get staff-discount, I suppose.'

'And I gave the young prick a false telephone number,' she laughed, 'can't stand kids.'

The shoe-shop incident, however, had given Ann an insight into exhibitionism, and she knew just how much she was turned on by showing off her body – knew with certainty that all the women who said they wore miniskirts 'because they liked the freedom,' wore stilettos 'because they were more comfortable' – stuff like that – they were really exhibitionists at heart, prick-teasers at least. She also knew that some women were turned on by restraint, by wearing very tight skirts, so they could hardly walk – all part of the same thing, she thought. Well, just watch me, she said to herself, as she went to bed that night, her husband Trevor safely tucked away in the spare room.

Next day, Tina was waiting for her in her office when she arrived.

'Silk Traders' Club phoned me last night,' she said, without preamble, 'they say they want a couple of hostesses, two nights a week – good money – how are we fixed?'

'But they go topless,' Ann said, 'I couldn't do that.'

'Please yourself,' said Tina, 'but they want to know by tomorrow.'

That evening Ann made an effort to 'build a bridge' to her husband, going to him in her negligee in the spare room, but he was engrossed with his Play Station in front of a small monitor he had in there, and merely grunted when she came up behind him and stroked his hair. She went back into the lounge and rang Tina.

'It's yes,' she said to her friend – her marriage wasn't going to recover, she now knew.

The next evening, the two girls reported to the club. Trevor had shown no interest in where Ann was going when Tina called for her, and she was beyond caring anyway.

They were interviewed by the glamorous blonde wife of the club's owner, who introduced herself as Carla, and were fitted out with their uniform, which consisted of patent leather spike-heeled thigh-high boots and a black velvet miniskirt. 'Underwear is your affair,' she told them, with a knowing look, and Tina whispered, as they left the office, that most of the girls wore minimal thongs, or nothing at all. They changed for the evening, and Ann started to have doubts that she could face the public like this.

'What if there's somebody who knows me out there?' she asked.

'They'll be too ashamed to admit being here, anyway,' grinned Tina, and Ann saw the sense of that.

They went behind the bar and learned their duties, and Ann was soon surprised at how much she enjoyed flouncing around, her naked breasts jiggling as her hips swayed with the exaggerated height of her heels, the cool air around her shaven pussy. When she bent down to take an order at one table, she slightly parted her legs so that those seated directly behind her got a tantalising occasional view just below the hem of her skirt. It was obvious she wore no panties, and she made a habit of glancing around each time, lowering her eyelids provocatively, and just pursing her lips a little. After a time, she got bolder, and deliberately raised the hem of her skirt, wriggling her buttocks together while she served the people in front of her. More than once during the evening a hand reached out and brushed her arse-cheeks, and she slipped away as gracefully as she could.

When things started to quieten down, about half past one, she was sat at the bar, taking a moment off, when a deep voice spoke up behind her.

'New here, aren't you?'

She turned and looked into a pair of dark, fathomless eyes, set in a mature face, topped with black hair, greying at the temples. He could have been anything from forty to fifty.

'Let me get you a drink.'

She already had one, but would have agreed to anything the newcomer said, anything at all.

'You are?'

'Ann,' she replied, 'the new hostess.'

'When do you finish, Ann?' he asked.

The barman, listening in, unbeknown to Ann, chipped in, 'You can go now, darling, we're all done here.'

Ann looked surprised, and turning back to the newcomer, said, 'It looks as if I'm free then – but who are you?' It came out more brusquely than she had intended, and the man smiled at her as she got down from the stool.

'My name is Victor,' he said, 'may I offer you a lift home?' and she now detected a slight accent she couldn't place. His suit was impeccable, and he wore a hand-made shirt with a Gucci tie.

She had to excuse herself while she went and changed, and wondered if her escort would have disappeared when she got back. But no, he was there waiting for her. Ann felt her knees weakening as she walked with him out to the car park, and when he led her to a brand new Lexus, and held the door open for her, she thought she had died and gone to heaven. Although she had changed into the clothes she had arrived in, they consisted of a nice pleated miniskirt and a silk blouse, and, as was her new habit, no underwear, so as she swung her long nylon-stockinged legs into the footwell of the car, she knew she was treating Victor to a brief glimpse of her shaven pussy, with its silver ring probably glinting as it caught the interior light. The thought made her damp with anticipation, because she knew beyond doubt that she was about to be fucked, and there was nothing she wanted more, nothing in the world.

'I hope I don't look too bad with clothes on,' she said, when he started the car.

'On the contrary,' he said, though if you don't mind me saying so, you have lovely breasts.'

She blushed, and said nothing, wondering suddenly how he knew which direction to take. She asked him.

'Carla told me where you live,' he said, 'and she also said you are not a very happy lady at the moment?' It was rendered as a question.

She murmured noncommittally at that, and he reached over and touched her knee. The gesture was not an overtly sexual one, but an electric tingle rushed through her body, and she put her hand reflexively over his, looking at him in the light of the passing streetlamps.

He appeared to come to a sudden decision, and took a sharp left turn.

'Come on,' he said, 'I'm taking you somewhere first.'

She knew she should protest – any decent girl would – but said nothing, just stroked the back of the hand that still lay on her knee.

A couple of minutes later they pulled up outside an apartment block with a state-of-the-art entryphone system and palms in the foyer. He entered with a key and they rode the lift to the ninth floor, where he led her to a studio apartment, beautifully furnished in modern style. He flicked on the light.

'Would you like a drink?' he asked her, as they entered the spacious lounge.

Ann shook her head, and started slowly to unbutton her blouse, keeping her eyes on his, as she faced him across the room.

When she shrugged the blouse off her shoulders, Victor came to her, and cupped her breasts in both hands, caressing them gently. She moaned with delight as his fingers played on their tips, massaging her nipples to hardness. Only then did he kiss her, first letting his lips brush hers, then probing with his tongue, darting it between her teeth in a parody of the sex act she knew was to follow. She could feel her juices flowing now, and when he pulled her towards the bedroom, she was only too happy to comply.

Another spacious room, it housed a large bed, fitted with black satin sheets, and Ann slid onto it, still wearing her skirt, garter-belt and stockings. Victor was in no hurry, and, laying beside her on the bed, started to stroke the full length of her legs, right up to the lace-tops of her stockings. He went ever higher, until he was just touching the outer lips of her sex at the extremity of each stroke. She was getting delirious with anticipation.

'Oh, Victor,' she moaned, 'please, please!'

He responded by tracing the outline of her puffy, excited labia ever so lightly with a teasing fingernail, taunting her, then putting his finger to his own lips, tasting her wetness. Impatiently, she went for his zipper, dragged it down, and found him rock –hard, imprisoned beneath it, so that when she opened his trousers, his cock sprung out, instantly to attention. He had been wearing no underpants – it seemed not only the women at the Silk Traders' went without underwear! His shaft was long and hard, longer than Trevor's, if not quite as thick, she thought, and Ann stroked it lovingly, running both hands up and down its whole length, and cradling his balls while she tenderly licked a drop of precum from the very tip of his crown. He sighed at this, and manoeuvred her into '69' position, easing her legs apart, then taking her clit-ring between his teeth, and pulling gently. The sensation made Ann shudder with sheer pleasure. She licked the length of his rod, then took it deep into her throat, trying to reach her lips right down to the base of hiss shaft, then slowly, slowly, suck as hard as she was able, giving him all the sensation she could. He responded by plunging his probing tongue deep into her wet cunt, so that her juices spurted and drenched him. She had never known an orgasm of such intensity, and he hadn't even fucked her yet. He simultaneously lapped her and flicked at her clit with his fingers, and she continued to suck him as hard as she could, knowing he was about to cum. She wanted him inside her more than anything in the world, but sensed that it would have to wait, and felt him give one great heave, stiffen, and then he shot a great wad of hot spunk straight down her throat. She was ready for it, and swallowed it hungrily, loving the salty taste, and writhing with pleasure as another, more gentle, orgasm overcame her too.

They lay together for a time she had no way of quantifying, and when she felt him stir against her stomach again, she pushed him away, then knelt on the bed, her knees by his face. She opened her legs, and spread her labia with two fingers of one hand, showing him her waiting, pink cunt. Then she played for just a moment with her little silver ring, and he knew he was lost. Kneeling back on her haunches now, she cupped her breasts, and toyed with her hardening nipples, saying, 'Come on, Victor, fuck me now, please.'

His cock was now as stiff as a ramrod once again, and he lay back and let her mount him, easing herself down onto his cock, feeling him penetrate her for the first delicious time, inch by lovely inch, then pinching him with the muscles of her cunt-hole, which made him moan with sheer pleasure. She rode him, bringing him to the very brink again and again, and he played with her clitoris as she did so, so that she lost count of the times she came. Eventually he was unable to contain himself any longer, and roared his triumph as he thrust himself hard into her slender body and spurted again, deep into the inner recesses of her womb.

'Oh, Victor,' she said, 'I needed that!'

'Me too, love,' he said, and she knew she had given him the ride of his life, and that he'd

be back for more.

'Better get you back to your loved one, eh?' he said, a sly grin on his handsome face, as they got ready to leave.

'Don't!' she said.

'You could stay here,' he said quietly, in the silence that followed, looking at her intently.

'My husband will expect me home,' Ann said.

'No, I mean live here – for a time at least,' he said.

'Thank you, but no thank you,' said Ann, 'I'm still trying to make it up with Trevor.'

Trevor, in fact, went out of his way to be pleasant to her for the next few days, and when he suggested they went out together on the Friday night, she agreed readily, and let him take her to a local disco.

It was a cool evening, so she had a coat on over her dress, but when they arrived at the disco, and she checked in her coat, Trevor was aghast.

'You can't wear a dress like that – you've......you've got no bra under it,' he said.

She had put on a short silky nylon halter-neck dress with a loose top, which allowed her breasts to jiggle under the plain cream-coloured material. Their shape, and the outline of her nipples was as evident as if she had been naked.

'I'll let you into a secret,' she whispered, thinking it would turn him on, 'I'm not wearing panties either.'

She couldn't believe his extreme reaction.

'Slut!' he yelled, slapped her hard across the face, right there in the foyer of the disco, and dragged her bodily out to the car-park, not even letting her retrieve her coat. He threw her into the car and drove home like a madman, almost causing several accidents on the way. Ann, crying her eyes out by now, raced upstairs, and shut herself in the spare room until morning. When she got up, the house was empty, and the car was gone.

She phoned Tina and recounted the events of the previous night.

'Leave him, darling,' was Tina's conclusion, and she was inclined to agree. That night, they were due to work together at the Silk Traders' anyway, and Tina said they'd have a chat.

Ann didn't want to spend long in the house in case Trevor returned, as there was nothing she wanted to say to him, so she went into town, her things for the evening with her, and spent some time window-shopping.

That evening Ann and Tina met in the dressing room at the club, and were getting ready for the long evening session, when Carla, the owner's wife, put her head around the door. 'How about a striptease from you two tonight, girls?' she asked. Tina and Ann looked at each other and back at Carla questioningly. She was smiling. 'Come along, don't be shy. You'll both do great – sexy young bodies, nice movers, and it's extra money, why not?'

'Sure,' said Tina, answering for them both, while Ann kicked her, 'we'll give it a go, won't we Ann?'

'OK then, eleven and twelve spots respectively then,' said Carla, 'see me here, ten minutes before, will you.'

When she had gone, Ann looked daggers at her friend, 'Another fine mess you've got me into,' she said, 'I've no idea how to go about this.'

'Neither have I,' said Tina, 'but we'll wing it, eh?'

Ann was too busy serving drinks and being touched up, admired, and propositioned by clients, both male, and, which surprised her, female, to worry very much about what was to come, but tried to find a quiet corner for long enough to watch Tina's strip.

She came onto the low stage in a sort of parody of a nurse's uniform, with a little starched cap, apron and so forth. She stripped slowly, to wild applause from the crowd, and the music swelled as she got down to thong and bra. She teased them with these as if she had been doing it all her life, and, when she was naked, got down on a cushion, and simulated masturbation with her stethoscope. She left with her robe wrapped around her, to much clapping.

Ann felt someone at her shoulder. It was Carla. 'Think you can do better?' she asked.

'I don't know,' she replied, 'but I'll have a go.'

At ten minutes to twelve, Ann went, nervous now, to the dressing room. Carla was there waiting for her. A little while later, she was attired in a business suit with a silk blouse, a full set of underwear, and a pair of fake reading glasses.

'There,' said Carla, 'you look the perfect young executive. Go out and stun 'em!'

Ann's nerves disappeared when she got out on stage, and the music started, a slow, sensuous beat. She had been given four numbers to dance to, and told not to start stripping until the first one had finished, so she started by simply running her hands up and down the curves of her body, as she strutted around to the music, but she had been entertaining an idea, and now was the time. She slowly raised the hem of her pleated skirt, using both hands, up past her stocking-tops, so that the spectators had a view of the white flesh above, then reached a little further with one hand and untied the bow in the ribbon of her panties, letting the ribbon hang down. Then she repeated the process at the other side, and her silk panties fell to the floor. She picked them up and passed them to a silver-haired gentleman on the front row, who promptly put them in his top pocket, to considerable applause.

Ann now had the audience's attention, and, when the music changed to thee old Jane Birkin hit'Je t'aime'she found herself getting in the mood. Off came her outer clothing, and she had already decided that she wouldn't remove her stockings or garter belt, so she only had her bra to take off – and two and a half records to go! The rest of the number she filled in playing with her tits, as she walked about the stage, licking her own nipples, which she was just able to do, and teasing them to hardness. But then the music changed to a blues number, and she took a chair from the side of the stage. She knew the clients here had come to see pussy – she'd give them some pussy. It felt wonderful to be displaying herself to all these men. She saw that several were masturbating openly, as she opened her slender legs and parted her labia with her long-nailed fingers, letting them drink in the sight of her silver ring, glinting in the arc-lights, and the pink wetness of her glistening cunt. She plunged two fingers deep into her fuckhole and wriggled her arse on the seat as if she was in ecstasy. In truth, she was not too far off.

Then, when the music changed again, this time to a faster beat, she dropped to the floor, where she took up a position on a cushion, spreading her legs wide, and changing the angle around, so that everyone got a view of her naked pussy.

When her turn finished, the applause was deafening.

Carla was quick to congratulate Ann when she got back into her normal gear, and told her that her bonus would be substantial.

A little later, she was delighted to encounter Victor as she was collecting drinks from the bar.

'I hear you did a striptease earlier,' he said.

'Oh, er..... yes,' she replied, hesitantly.

'You don't have to be ashamed,' he said, and then, 'thought any more about my offer?'

'You mean.........'

'I mean living at the apartment I showed you.'

She looked at him and burst into tears. He took her in his arms, and led her into a lobby, just off the cloakroom, where cleaning materials were kept.

When he had calmed her down sufficiently, she heard herself agreeing to move into the apartment where they had made love, for a trial period of two months, at a nominal rent.

When he drove her there later, she didn't feel like making love, and he was a perfect gentleman, not forcing himself upon her. He said they would talk in the morning, and that he wouldn't come around too early. She sent a text message to Trevor, telling him not to bother looking for her, and slept like a log.

Next morning, Sunday, Ann got up late, and explored the apartment. Victor had told her it contained everything she was likely to need. He had said, with a sly smile, that he had kept it supplied 'just in case' since he met her.

She found plenty of food, coffee and a fridge full of drinks and fruit in the kitchen. When she investigated the lounge, she discovered a wide range of music CDs, a nice TV with plenty of DVDs and lots of reading matter. She wasn't going to get bored. But what really impressed her was the wardrobe, which Victor had stocked so well she at first thought the clothes must be someone else's. Then she saw that everything was brand new, labels still attached – and all her size, precisely. He had spared no expense – there were dresses, skirts, blouses, underwear, shoes, and all to her taste, so far as she could see. On closer inspection, she realised, with a grin, that there were neither panties nor full bras – he had really understood her preferences! Neither had he neglected the bathroom, where she found a full make-up kit, and all the toiletries and fragrances she could think of. She wandered around the apartment, with eyes like saucers – at this rate, she would scarcely need to collect anything from her home