Can Buy Me Sex

Last year, Dave was fairly unremarkable.

He worked in a fairly unremarkable office in London, on a fairly good salary, hating his job half the time, but otherwise happy to let his pension accrue.

He was fairly unremarkable in appearance: young-looking, some might even say quite handsome for a man approaching his forties, but hardly a physical specimen. Short, receding hair and a growing paunch.

He had a fairly unremarkable marriage to a woman he married too young and had gradually drifted apart from, but who he would never dream of leaving or cheating on. Besides, who'd want him?

The only thing that stood out about Dave was his social prowess: everybody liked Dave. He was a laugh, a flirt, an all-round good egg. He loved that he could hold an audience, tell a good yarn, crack a decent joke, flatter the girls in the office... Oh how he loved the girls in the office. Most of them a decade too young to fear he had serious designs on them, Dave could spend hours in the pub entertaining his "women's group" as the other lads in the office would tease, knowing full well they were secretly envious of his way with them. His secret was a carefully honed combination of non-threatening flirting, outrageous conversation starters, and a genuine sense of humour. And he relished being the centre of their attention. But no matter how he may have fantasised about some of his more attractive co-workers, nothing would ever come of it. He was old, married, and otherwise... Well. Unremarkable.

But last year, something changed. He was still unremarkable in most respects, save for one significant alteration: unbeknownst to everyone, Dave was now a multi-millionaire.

When he compared his lottery ticket to the winning numbers that fateful weekend, he remained motionless for almost half an hour. Most people would have whooped and hollered, but Dave sat as if in stasis as the enormity of the situation hit him. And then he began to plan. Because Dave had fantasised about what he would do should he ever win a fortune; he had sent himself into a happy slumber numerous times going over the details in his mind, and he wasn't going to alter his approach now that it had become a reality.

Rather than run off and immediately buy a new car and a new house and a billion other rash things, he was going to put the majority of his winnings in a high interest account and carry on as normal for a while. Just enough time for his fortune to become self-sustaining. He wouldn't tell his wife, he wouldn't tell his family. For now, he'd just carry on. And it wouldn't be a hardship seeing this time out because Dave knew the fun he could have when that first bit of interest came in. And he had theorised - correctly as it turned out - that it's far more fun to be incomprehensively rich in real life surrounded by regular people, than in a millionaire's lifestyle surrounded by the equally loaded. And Tuesday evening proved it.

As the working day drew to a close, Dave approached some of his colleagues with the offer of a few drinks down the local boozer. He was targeting a specific type of drinking buddy: flirty, attractive and prone to turn 'a quick drink' into a long evening of eventual drunkenness. Millie and Charlie fit the bill perfectly. Together they had always ended up as the last to leave the pub, and they had always ended up in rude conversations to pass the hours. They thought Dave was hilarious, and he couldn't deny the appeal of talking filth with two glamorous girls nearly half his age. They wouldn't need much persuasion.

"On a Tuesday?" said Millie, with a raise of her eyebrow.

"Just one or two," Dave's nonchalant reply. "I could do with a pint today."

"Me too. I'm there in 5," Charlie piped from behind her monitor.

"Anyone else coming?" asked Millie.

"Think it's a bit early in the week for most of this lot, but I knew you two wouldn't let me down."

"What are you suggesting, David? That we're a couple of lushes?"

"I'm not suggesting it, Emily, I'm quite happily stating it as a matter of actual fact."

"Fair enough," sighed Millie, dropping her papers onto her desk with a bang.

She was an incredibly pretty girl - long dirty blonde hair flanking a pale delicate face with pouting red lips. Her eyes, sitting beneath thin dark eyebrows, were large, grey and innocent-looking. But her frank locker-room banter revealed her to be far removed from the naive flower many mistook her for. Her tight black sweater was typical of her modest dress-style, but did an appalling job of hiding her ample bust. Perhaps that was the point.

"Annie, do you want to come?" said Charlie. "You could do with a drink after that client meeting couldn't you?"

Dave was slightly perturbed. While Annabelle would be another attractive addition to this small drinking party, she was also more conservative. A hard-working career woman in her early 30s, Dave always felt a little awkward wheeling out his dirtier jokes in front of her. For what he had in mind for tonight, Annie's presence wasn't ideal.

"Ooo, don't know. On a Tuesday?" she whispered, as if she might get into trouble even talking about it.

"Come on, you need cheering up," said Charlie. "And we always have a laugh when we're out with Dave."

"Oh I know you do!"

Annabelle gave Dave a knowing look. Dave shrugged; it wasn't a secret that the loudest, most raucous corner of the pub would be the one these three were in. Annabelle considered it for a bit.

"Oh what the hell," she said.

"Yay!" said Millie, doing a little celebratory dance. "Dave and his bitches are hitting the bar."

"Not in the office, Emily!" reprimanded Annie as she gathered her coat.

A tall woman, Annabelle was the epitome of poise and grace. Mature beyond her tender years, she wore classy attire - today a simple yet stunning figure-hugging dress - expensive perfume, and her auburn curls were restrained perfectly in a tightly packed bun. A dusting of freckles on her cheeks and a cute button nose made it impossible to take her strict tone too seriously, though.

"Come on then, before HR get involved," sighed Charlie, rising from her seat with an exaggerated stretch.

The epitome of office chic, she wore thick rimmed glasses that she didn't really need, a cream blouse and a fitted knee-length pencil skirt. She kicked off the Nikes she liked to wear around the office and slipped into her killer heels, raising her nearly to Annabelle's height.

Dave ushered the girls towards the exit before anyone else showed interest in joining them; he slung his rucksack over his shoulder and followed them out to the pub.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Two hours had passed and they were getting progressively more drunk. Dave had sought out and secured a booth upstairs in the local pub which was essentially cornered off from the rest of the room, giving them a huge degree of privacy. Just as well considering the subject matter they were covering. After having bitched about work for a while, Charlie and Millie needed little encouraging to start getting fruity with their chat. They were currently talking about the pros and cons of sucking their boss's cock for a pay-rise, eliciting guffaws from Millie and, surprisingly, Annabelle too. Charlie was miming the act with a look of disgust on her face.

"No fucking way," she said. "Can you imagine it? Not for a 100 grand pay rise..."

Perfect. This was the moment for Dave to make the evening a little interesting.

"Really? Not for 100 grand?"

"Uh uh," said Charlie with a shake of the head.

"Fuck, I would," said Millie. "I'd suck anyone's cock for that much."

"Anyone's but his," said Charlie, eliciting a ripple of laughter from everyone around the table.

"So you'd happily suck a cock for 100 grand," said Dave. "What about 50?"

Millie thought about it for a second before nodding resignedly.

"Yeah, if I'm honest. As long as wasn't like a tramp or someone. You know, they'd have to be clean and stuff."

"10?"

"Basically, Millie, Dave wants to know how much it would cost to have you suck him off," said Charlie, without realising how accurate her deadpan quip was.

"For you Dave, I'd do it for 7. Cash in hand," Millie said with a wink and a nudge. She was joking, of course. She had no idea Dave had that and change hidden in his rucksack.

"How about you Charlie? How much to give a clean, recently showered stranger a blow-job?"

Charlie gave Dave's query some serious thought.

"Fifty grand," she finally stated confidently.

"And you Annie?"

"Nothing," she smugly replied. "Would never do anything like that for any amount of money."

"Oh fuck, that's what I should've said, isn't it?" said Millie, faking concern. "I would like to retract my offer, Dave. My self-respect is worth more than ten grand."

"Seven," Dave corrected.

"Come on," challenged Charlie, in exactly the same way Dave was about to. "There's definitely a number. If it was £100 million you'd do it."

"No I wouldn't!" said Annabelle defiantly. "I wouldn't prostitute myself like that ever. It's not worth it."

"Alright, hang on," said Dave. "Let's say it's not a blow job. What about a peck on the cheek?"

"Well that's slightly different..."

"It is a bit different," deadpanned Millie.

"No it's not," countered Dave. "It's still accepting money for allowing a man to do something to you."

"But a kiss on the cheek is a little less..."

"Whore-y," interrupted Charlie.

Dave took some money from his wallet and slapped a ten pound note on the table.

"OK, a tenner for a peck on the cheek. Who's up for it?"

"Ah Dave, I'll give you a peck for free if you want one?" said Millie, putting an affectionate hand on Dave's shoulder.

"Alright, bad example. How about on the lips? With tongues."

"Dave!" squealed Millie incredulously, "You're a married man!"

"OK, twenty then," said Dave, putting more money on the table.

"Are you serious?"

"Yup. Five seconds. Tongues. Twenty quid."

There was an awkward silence as the girls around the table looked at each other, trying to get a bead on the situation. Was this a test? Was he joking? Should they be amused or irritated?

"Thirty," Millie finally said with a hint of challenge.

Dave smiled and nodded before counting out three notes and pressing them into her hand.

"There you go. Five seconds with tongues."

Millie froze as Dave leaned in towards her. He wore a genial smile on his lips as he paused in front of her, offering the option of following through or not. He could smell the fruity perfume she had recently sprayed in the bathroom, and the smell of red wine on her breath. Her eyes narrowed as a wide grin spread across her face.

"Are you really being serious? I won't give this back."

"I wouldn't expect you to. It's yours. If you kiss me."

She thought a little longer before a derisory snort from Annabelle made up her mind. She leaned in and met Dave's lips, her subtly parted lips inviting his tongue. He slipped it inside her mouth for a brief exploration and was thrilled to feel her reciprocate. After a few brief seconds of mutual lingual massage, their oral tryst was ended, but not before Millie sucked his bottom lip as she pulled away. Dave felt a stirring in his loins, and his look of disappointment from such short sweetness must have been evident.

"Five seconds," she whispered, almost as an apology.

I. Cannot. Believe. You did that," said Charlie wearing a look of shock.

"Thirty quid!" Millie stressed by way of explanation, waving the notes in front of her.

"Have you got thirty quid for me, Dave?" said Charlie, ostensibly as a joke, but maybe more to test the waters.

"Of course. If you want it."

"He's a very good kisser," encouraged Millie.

"Show me the money," said Charlie, moving around to Dave's side of the table and squashing him pleasantly between her and Millie.

"Shoooow meeeee the moneeeey!" yelled Millie, doing her best Cuba Gooding Jr impression.

Dave reached into his fat wallet and pulled out the required dough, sliding it over to his obviously tempted co-worker.

"Fifty," she said, hitting him with a mischievous stare. Dave was unmoved.

"Thirty. But don't worry, you don't have to."

He moved to take the cash away, but Charlie used the lean-in to honour the sale after all, smothering his lips with hers and filling his mouth with the exaggerated movements of her tongue. She made a ridiculously overstated moan of pleasure, trying to make a joke out of the brief snog, but a flick if her tongue over Dave's when she really didn't have to suggested she was quite happy to make her side of the transaction as pleasurable for Dave as possible.

"That's WAY more than 5 seconds," Millie shrilled. An accurate observation and one that caused Charlie to pull away with not a little embarrassment.

Millie cackled as a flushed Charlie sighed and counted her money. Dave flashed a glance over to a distinctly non-plussed Annabelle.

"Annie? he asked, with a cheeky enquiring look.

"No, you're fine Dave. I'm getting a drink. Anyone want anything?"

She took the tables orders and disappeared down the stairs to the bar.

"I think it's the principle more than you, Dave," Millie said.

"No," Dave countered. "I think it's me."

"You realised you've just spent £60 on two very quick snogs," said Charlie. "Have you won on the horses or something."

"I have come into a bit of money," Dave admitted.

"Well not that I'm complaining, it went to a good cause and everything, but you could've got two dances in a strip club for that," said Millie.

"Plastic tarts," Dave said dismissively. "A kiss from you two is much better value for money."

"Aw, you are so sweet," cooed Charlie, putting a hand on Dave's thigh. Despite Annabelle's current absence, the girls were still happy to flank him in the compact space of the bench.

"But out of interest," Dave continued. "How much to open your blouse for me?"

Millie burst out laughing and Charlie faux slapped him in mock admonishment.

"David, how dare you! Dirty old man!"

The laughter died down but Dave was still looking at Charlie with an expectant look on his face.

"Oh my God, he's serious," she deadpanned.

"Just opening your top," Dave clarified. "You've got a bra on under there I assume?"

Millie suppressed a guffaw or two as Charlie planned her response.

"How much you got?" she purred.

"Never you mind that, what's your price? Ten seconds; blouse open."

"Hundred quid!"

"Charlie, I am not paying £100 to see a girl in her bra for a few seconds."

"To be fair," said Millie, lending Dave her support, "Showing your bra isn't actually as bad a snog. I'd do it for £20."

Dave and Charlie both turned to her and almost simultaneously said: "Go on then!"

"Money first please."

Dave retrieved more money from his pocket and became aware that a bulge was quite evident at the crotch of his jeans. He used his wallet to hide it as he pulled out the requisite cash incentive.

"Ten seconds Charlie," instructed Dave, and she duly checked her watch trying to control her giggles.

"It's no big deal, it's just like him looking at a bikini," said Millie.

"Well I hope for your sake its not a lacy slightly see-through bikini," teased Charlie. "Aaaaand go!"

With a quick check of her surroundings to confirm there were no prying eyes, Millie hooked her thumbs underneath her tight black sweater and pulled it up sharply, the rolls of material gathering under her chin and exposing her majestic, bra-laden tits. Dave had, of course, eyed her from afar in the office, and caught fleeting glimpses down her top when she bent over, but here was an opportunity to ogle her close up and without restriction. Her t-shirt bra wasn't particularly well-fitted, and Dave was able to get a good sense of her boobs' not-inconsiderable heft as they sat loosely in their cups. Her young, slim torso gave her the look of a sexy cartoon character; her smooth stomach almost concave and waif like compared to how stacked she was on top. Time, thankfully, seemed to slow. Dave felt he had already got a generous eyeful when Charlie shouted out that only 5 seconds had passed. Millie laughed at the ludicrous situation and her tits wobbled with her giggles. The movement stimulated Dave's already engorged penis into a full erection, and he shifted in his seat to accommodate it in his jeans. Millie sighed.

"I'm glad it's warm in here," she said nonchalantly.

"Time up," said Charlie. Millie pulled down her jumper as quickly as she had lifted it, and casually reached for the remains of her drink.

Charlie applauded.

"Your turn," Millie said after downing the rest of her wine. Charlie shook her head.

"Not for twenty," she said.

"The rules are, if one of you agrees to a price, that's the price for the other one as well," said Dave.

"Oh my God, there are rules now!" squealed Millie.

"If you don't do it for £20, you don't do it at all," Dave continued.

"Well the thing is," said Charlie, "That lacy, slightly see-through type of bra I was talking about? Well that's kind of what I've got on right now. So it isn't really the same thing as looking at a t-shirt bra. I think that should be worth forty."

"Yes, but your tits are smaller than mine," Millie chipped in, much to Dave's joy and amusement. "So he got a lot of cleavage with me and he won't with you."

"But your bra wasn't half sheer. And also can I point out I've got a boyfriend, which makes this far worse for me to be doing than you!"

"Ok, boyfriend's irrelevant," interrupted Dave, "But due to a potentially more revealing bra, I'll give you a bonus. £30. Final offer."

Charlie huffed, thought about it, then held her hand out. Dave deposited the money and then watched intently as she began unfastening the white buttons down her shiny cream blouse.

"Are you timing?" she asked as she disengaged the second button.

"Not until all the buttons are undone," said Dave, staring at the glimpses of white lace around her chest.

Charlie huffed again and pulled the sides of her blouse together as she continued her unfastening, preventing Dave from seeing too much prematurely. When the final button was gone, Millie checked her watch.

"Go!"

Charlie pulled apart each side of her blouse like an eager flasher, and Dave took in the view. A similar body to Millie's in terms of youthful slimness, topped with a more modestly-sized bust. But what a bust! Perhaps aided by a very pretty and structurally sound bra, her tits looked amazingly pert and round. And, as she had suggested, the underwear's combination of white cotton leaves and a delicate see-through mesh was producing several barely-disguised places across her chest where the circular outline of her breasts could be seen. And, much to Dave's thrill, he could make out the definite shape of her nipples. Perhaps through wishful thinking more than anything, he could have sworn they were erect. They were so obvious, poking from underneath that sexy fabric! Charlie had elected to turn her head to the side to avoid watching Dave ogle her, but turned slightly to observe him from the corner of her eye. She allowed a smile of satisfaction to escape her lips as she spied his open-mouthed appreciation.

"You've got to be kidding me!"

The three turned to see Annabelle at the top of the stairs holding a tray of drinks. Millie burst into fits of hysterics as Charlie sheepishly started to do her buttons up.

"Annie. There you are," said Dave cheerfully. "Come join us, the girls are showing their bras for money."

Annabelle shook her head with resigned amusement as she approached and delivered the round of drinks.

"I'm going home if the night carries on like this," she sighed.

Charlie and Millie collapsed into laughter while gratefully receiving their drinks. They remained at Dave's side and as Annabelle took a seat opposite it was like a tipsy interview panel with an unimpressed Annabelle as their interviewee.