Helping Her Boyfriend's Career

"You told me you had a boyfriend you would be faithful to, and I still offered you the spare ticket. I'm glad I saw the play with someone who enjoyed it." He finished undoing her buttons.

"Thank you for being tactful, but Timon is not a play that is likely to appeal to clients who employ wealth advisors." She took off her blouse and leaned forward.

"I have some very civilised clients. Even if you are right, I wanted to see the play and thought you would enjoy it." He expertly undid her bra.

She closed her eyes and said, "A gentleman would keep me warm." He took the hint and did his best to keep her breasts warm with his mouth and right hand. Any chance that she would only be getting her tits out tonight vanished as he concentrated on ensuring she enjoyed his attentions rather than his own enjoyment. She started moaning, and he then moved his right hand down to her trousers and rubbed her through them. She realised that a disadvantage (or was it an advantage?) of satin trousers was that they were thin enough that a man could stimulate you without removing any clothing. This meant that she was unable to resist when her belt and button were undone, and his hand moved down to play with her clitoris.

Before she actually had an orgasm, she said, "Gerald, you are a wicked man, but I'm complimented and not offended. I'm still not going to cheat on Alastair by sleeping with you or going to bed with you, but you deserve to be thanked properly for treating me to my best evening out since leaving college. Anyway, if we went on much longer, I would be damaging the dashboard myself. Perhaps I will have a nightcap after all. Could I also use your bathroom?"

Even now, she thought she thought she knew what she needed to offer while at the same time obeying Alastair. He had told her to suck up to Gerald; surely that included sucking him off. It was her speciality, and many of her gentlemen friends had preferred that to sex. Sex they could get anywhere, but a good blowjob was hard to find.

He led her into his house and asked what she wanted to drink. She agreed to a glass of prosecco and went to the downstairs bathroom, reapplied her lipstick and looked at her face in her hand mirror. She took a deep breath and then took off her trousers. She was now dressed in stockings, high heels, and French knickers only. She also grabbed a towel.

/------------------/

Gerald had enjoyed the night out more than he had expected to. Amber had relished everything with such innocent enjoyment that he had reminded him of what it was like when he had been young to see a superb performance and eat good food before he had taken it for granted. The actors had been a hoped-for but slightly unexpected bonus. Perhaps he would take her along to the next event for sponsors. He preferred his women to have other distractions.

He remembered something Bianca had told him about Amber, raced upstairs, changed his underwear, and washed his groin with warm water. He believed that Amber's definition of cheating was not one even Alastair would have shared. Still, Alastair had told Amber to keep him happy. She had not disagreed when he had sown the seed that her only chance of keeping Alastair was to keep him happy and that what Alastair didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

He was downstairs before Amber was out of the bathroom. He decided to entertain her in his study. He had a record player in there, and the furniture was better for what he had in mind for her. A desk, a wooden chair, and a comfortable sofa. There was a hand basin with a towel next to it. He put two side lamps on only and hung his jacket and waistcoat on a coat hanger.

He'd taken in the bottle, put on some music, and when he heard the toilet flush and the door open, called on her to join him. She came in, and he smiled to himself. She was his youngest target since Bianca (and that had started off as a favour to her mother), and she had the same enthusiasm. He saw her eyes flick over to the towel and knew he would get lucky.

She'd sat on his lap and sipped the prosecco with him. She undid his tie and shirt buttons and whispered to him, "I think you deserve a very special thank you. I've already had some things in my mouth tonight that I've never tasted before. I'd like to try another one. Who knows, it may be the best taste of all?"

She stood up, grabbed the towel from the wash basin and knelt down with her knees on the towel in front of him. "Stand up and let me unleash the Kraken."

He smiled but did as she requested and saw that she had placed the towel she had brought with her on the sofa behind him. How charmingly practical of her.

He had rarely had anyone suck him off, and if he did, it was when both were in bed rather than with them kneeling in front of him. Most of his female companions had regarded it as something only whores did. He felt uneasy about asking his partners to kneel as the position seemed designed to emphasise a woman's subservience. Women may be the weaker sex, but it was the act of a brute to demean or humiliate them. Clearly, Amber did not feel demeaned, and he suspected she had practised the art of the blowjob assiduously. After all, she had to have something in reserve to give on her second or third date.

"If you are certain, my dear. I hope Alastair proves worthy of you." Final warning, even if she wouldn't take it.

Amber put her hands on his hips, looked up at him with as lustful a look as she could manage, and licked her lips. With one hand, she undid his belt. At the same time, she opened her mouth and pulled the middle finger of his right hand into her mouth with the other hand.

He hoped she wouldn't pretend to be a whore and tell him how big he was. He did not need reassurance on that side, and he preferred the illusion of being two good friends enjoying themselves. She must have known that was the case.

The tongue playing with the tip of his penis, one hand tickling his balls, and how she sucked so much of him into her mouth was suspected revelatory. He went off like a Roman candle on bonfire night into her mouth. She did not flinch and swallowed it all before licking his prick clean.

She'd smiled at him and said, "I didn't want to get stains on the sofa or your trousers."

This was an experience which he wanted desperately to repeat and also knew that his clients would want to experience. It was then that he had decided that he wanted her to become an escort if the cards fell that way. A well-paid one, to be sure, but a woman with as much talent for sex as Amber deserved to be paid well. Besides which, her taste in boyfriends was appalling. One beat her up, and the other borrowed money from her and pimped her out without paying her anything.

She would at least make a profit and enjoy herself if he introduced her selectively to his clients. Still, he would take things slowly. He would get her used to accepting gifts and favours. He rather suspected that she had accepted gifts in the past. Certainly, she had a varied collection of jewellery. He personally preferred to give clothes and theatre tickets. Favours as well, although what he could provide a teacher rather defeated him unless she was looking for an older rich husband.

Still, he had to take things further before he escorted her home. It might mean less chance of a repeat performance temporarily, but it would establish that she was up for being bonked for favours. It also meant that the blowjob was the minimum unit of currency. He danced with her, moved behind her, and placed his fingers under her knickers. He felt her tense up and then respond enthusiastically as he started fingering her.

"I could telephone my friend in London tomorrow and call in a huge favour if you really want me to. I know he has a flat in Sloane Square which will be available next month. It's near the Royal Court Theatre. I went to see Look Back in Anger there back in the day. Rocket Horror Picture Show more recently." He added another couple of fingers and felt her lose any sense of self-control. He moved so that she was facing the desk and bent her over it.

Actually, he owned the flat through an off-the-shelf Panama company, but the current tenant was about to get married and would be vacating it next week. An ex-companion, to be honest.

"Do you want me to call in that favour?"

"Yes, yes, I'll do anything, but don't tell Alastair."

"Of course, I won't. You told me you wouldn't spend the night or go to bed with me, and you and I will truthfully tell Alastair that you didn't do so. Still, we can have a fun hour or two together on the floor, the sofa, and some tables before I escort you home. Is that OK with you?"

She shouted, "What Alastair doesn't know won't hurt him, and he wants me to keep you happy. Fuck me as hard as you like. I can take it."

Her wish was his command, although he showed some self-restraint. It turned out to have been the right call as thirty minutes later, after finishing the prosecco, she bounced up and down on top of him to an X-rated version of an old nursery rhyme while he thrust upwards on the accentuated words, "Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross, comes a fine lady on a white horse, cocks in her fingers and mouths suck her toes, she shall be fucked wherever she goes."

He came inside her as she said "goes," and both burst into laughter. She then bent down, and her hair dangled into his face while he sucked her left breast.

He said, "I don't think the Opies ever recorded that version. Do you think we should let them know?"

She giggled and said, "Perhaps not."

He said, "I will make that call. You can tell Alastair on Monday that the rent will be slightly below market for that area."

He paused, "It won't be exactly cheap, but it will be excellent value for a two-bedroom flat in that area."

It turned out that pushing his luck was the right call. Lending the money to Alastair had put Amber's finances under strain, and he agreed that rent could be paid monthly rather than weekly just after the pay cheque from the school arrived. In effect, it had reduced the rent by 1/13, but instead, he received a blowjob every fortnight. Not even HMRC could tax a blowjob between friends; after tax, he was quids in.

She had allowed him to fuck her again after he had introduced one of his clients to Butcher and Du Cann in mid-January. He had taken the precaution of making certain that the main work was not done by Alastair and had negotiated a competitive deal on fees with Butchers for his client with the partner in charge. For once, he made it clear that he was an Oxford graduate with high standards, and the man had responded well.

It disturbed him when, six weeks into his new job, Alastair claimed that he was too busy at work to visit Amber and that it was not worth her coming up to London. His initials also stopped appearing on the letters sent to him and his client. He then heard that the March rent had not been paid and from Amber that the latest £50 instalment had not arrived.

Two weeks ago, he had called the firm and enquired why Alastair was no longer working on the matter. They said that he had left the firm. Gerald guessed that he had been sacked from his job for lying about his qualifications, and the partner in question had not denied it. Indeed, he was relieved when Gerald did not make a fuss. Claiming to have got a first and not the lower second he had actually received was seen as dishonest. He wondered who had blown the whistle or whether the partner for whom he worked had become suspicious. Alastair was glib and sounded convincing initially, but the longer he talked, the clearer it became that he had a second-rate mind.

He hired a private eye through an intermediary who could be trusted to find out where the man had gone. It turned out that he had been living with his ex-girlfriend in her flat for the last four weeks. He hadn't had the courage to tell Amber the truth or the fact that he was not in a position to repay her the £450 outstanding. He also had not told Amber that he had forged Amber's name as a guarantor for the rent under the lease of the Sloane Square flat. Gerald suspected that the sexual training Alastair had received from Amber had made Fiona more appreciative of him than she had previously.

He hadn't expected Alastair to fuck up so quickly. To be honest, he might have hoped for it, but even he thought the man could have avoided detection for at least six months, and the forgery had not been something he had expected. He was getting too old -- he had underestimated the immorality of the younger generation.

When he saw Amber last Sunday, she had been nerving herself up for a confrontation with Alastair. He decided to volunteer to make enquiries after she had sucked him off. He had arranged to be busy most of the week and using the Birmingham flat but had sent a letter, which she received on Wednesday, spelling out that Alastair had lost his job and had moved in with the ex.

He had instructed the agent to send a letter by recorded delivery to arrive this Saturday morning, calling on Amber to honour the rent guarantee.

Matters got complicated when, on Wednesday, he received a panicked call at his office from his sister in Birmingham asking if his nephew John could stay with him for three weeks. To judge from her account, John was cracking up under the pressure of his forthcoming finals and the end of a long relationship. He rather doubted this but suspected that the best place for John was with him. He agreed to take him, and he was delivered yesterday.

He had been away from home on Thursday night, was busy at work on Friday, and had client entertainment on Friday night. He had briefly called in to say hello to John, who looked like a happy bunny rather than on the verge of a mental breakdown. There had been a hand-delivered letter from Amber asking him to meet her on Saturday evening at six. She said that the relationship with Alastair was over; she had a friend, Jill, visiting tonight and would like to see him on Saturday evening.

Before dashing out, he told John to warm up the boeuf bourguignon in the fridge and recommended that he spend the evening watching the sunset from the gazebo at the top of the garden. He had also driven past Amber and the friend he'd seen before. He honked his horn at them and waved.

Perhaps, in retrospect, he had taken a risk by encouraging John to sit in the Gazebo. Knowing he was out and not knowing about John, the two women got drunk and discussed their love lives. John had learnt that Amber was up for being bonked by Gerald in exchange for a good dinner, provided things did not get too complicated; she had had a threesome between breaking up with Donald and going out with Alastair, which she had enjoyed and had dressed up in a St Trinian's costume for Alastair. Amber also had not told Jill all the gory details about Alastair's betrayal; mainly, it seemed because Jill had been busy confessing that she had cheated on her boyfriend with at least two men simultaneously and had a thing for rugby players.

All this had been interesting to him. It was why his plans for Amber had become more ambitious. An intelligent woman with a talent for fellatio and who was up for threesomes would greatly interest many of his clients, who would happily pay her large amounts of money and give him more work in return for the introduction. He saw no reason why she should not receive a fair night's pay for a dirty night's work so long as she could pretend it was her call to be paid. However, things had been complicated because the second woman, Jill, was a teacher at John's old school, about whom John still had sexual fantasies.

While he thought his nephew was, on the whole, in good shape mentally for his exams, he was concerned about his obsession with Jill and the idea of threesomes. Unsurprisingly, John wanted to be in on the fun with Amber, particularly to spit-roast her with his uncle. It was an unusual bonding activity for uncle and nephew, but it had caught John's imagination. Besides, John was his mother's child (Gerald was not entirely certain that John was his father's child, but heigh-ho) and a randy man. He had promised John that he would do his best to persuade Amber to extend her favours to him and even see if was up for a threesome, but not to expect instant access.

The biggest challenge would be enlisting Amber's aid to help John fulfil his fantasy of fucking his ex-teacher like a dog while she sucked off another man, preferably with at least three other men watching and participating. The thought that the unobtainable beauty was all too attainable by 18-year-old rugby players seemed to have unbalanced him.

When he knocked on Amber's door, he realised that she must have been thinking about her plan of campaign as much as he had. Her lipstick was bright red, and her perfume was attractive. She was wearing a basque, fishnet stockings, and French knickers. It was clear what would happen.

"Oh, do come in, Gerald. Can I get you a G&T? Make yourself at home in the sitting room - after all, it is yours."

"That sounds excellent, my dear. You are even more beautiful than usual."

He sat on the sofa. When she returned, she gave him the drink and sat next to him.

"Gerald, I don't want to talk about Alastair. I don't want a new boyfriend or to find a husband. The most enjoyable time I've had since I started going out with him was the trip to Stratford with you. I want to go to films or plays, be wined and dined, flirted with, have interesting conversations, and then have sex, which means nothing beyond the fact that it's good to be alive and the evening has been fun. I want to enjoy myself with different men who want to have sex with me and want me to enjoy myself but are not in love with me. Above all, I don't want a man who wants to own me or change me or borrow money from me."

"My dear, I will be happy to help you enjoy life, but.."

She put a finger on his lips.

"Look, I know you just want a bit of fun every so often. You've escaped matrimony for nearly fifty years, and you're not going to change now, especially for a charity girl who dropped her knickers for you for a total shit. I won't become a nuisance to you."

"I'm glad you understand my position. You are being too hard on yourself, though".

She finished her drink and then sat on his lap, putting her arms around him. "I haven't had satisfying sex since you last fucked me. I need a randy man between my legs to feel alive again. Would you like to volunteer?"

He was almost frightened by her but went with the flow. He kissed her and then bent her over the sofa, lifted up the dress, squeezed her tits and fucked her as hard as he could. She screamed like a banshee and revelled in being used. He decided that she was up for the next step.

"I have my nephew John staying with me. Is there any chance that you could join me and him for a late Sunday lunch tomorrow around three?"

"That would be lovely, Gerald. I look forward to joining you. Tell me about your nephew."

"He's 21 and in his last year at Oxford. My sister and her husband have asked me to put him up for three weeks to allow him to revise for his finals in comparative peace and quiet. He's only just arrived and is settling in as we speak."

"That's kind of you. Why isn't he at home or Oxford?"

"Everyone thinks for some reason that it will be better for him to stay with me. His sisters are revising for O and A levels, and they and their parents are stressed about them. He says that in Oxford, all his friends are working each other up into a state about their exams, and he can't deal with that right now. He thinks it is better for him just calmly to get on with things by himself, and I am the family member most likely to allow him to do that."

She raised an eyebrow.

He paused, "Look, I think the young man is fine and is doing what works best for him. It certainly is what I would have done in his shoes if my uncles had not been criminally insane. My sister, his mother, is more worried as his girlfriend just ended the relationship. he says it was amicable, but it was his first long-term relationship..."