Promo Girl

Kat wasn't a hooker, she wasn't a prostitute. She didn't charge a fee for sex and she didn't have clients. But sex was what she purveyed. She was a good time girl. A product of the millenium, a promo chick a big business groupie. It was her looks and body, together with sex, which provided her living.

She had flirted with being an actress, but found taking rejection far too daunting. She couldn't put up with the rounds of auditions and beauty parades which are the lot of an aspiring actress. That was the time, though when she found that sex had such a part to play in so many things; wow big deal. What a revelation!

As with many good looking girls in their early twenties in London, Kat wanted more from life than working in an office or a store. She hadn't got the height and looks to be a model, she couldn't crack it as an actress or dancer, she didn't have the qualifications to get into something like advertising or the contacts to wriggle her way into the music business and she simply would not have been able to stand 'serving' customers on planes. So, most of the typical 'glamour' jobs were out of reach.

She had drifted into it, if she was honest. But then nobody chose being a promo girl as a living; it just happened, you just sort of became one, girls, pretty girls, that is, just ended up doing it.

Kat was temping in the events management office of a US investment bank. Nothing clever or complicated, just helping organise a database of customers, but it did pay thirty five pounds and hour and she got to work in the main building at Canary Wharf, right up on the forty fourth floor: very sumptuous surroundings.

"Phone that fucking agency and tell them we need the fucking girls here at three not four, the stupid aresholes," the manager of the department screamed at her.

"Me?" Kat said.

"Who the fuck else is there here, of course you."

That's how she got in. The assistant who should have done that was away from her desk so Kat phoned the promotion agency and organised the eight hostesses. Not only did she do that efficiently to the satisfaction of the foulmouthed Events Manager, but also got the agency off the hook for nearly screwing up.

"Hi I'm Mike Blessed, from the agency," the rather tasty looking, fortyish bloke leaning over the waist high screen round her work station was saying. "You're Kate aren't you?"

"Well Kat actually, I don't like Kate and I will never forgive my parents for that."

"Not even with Ms Blanchett popularising it nowadays."

"Hers is Cate, with a C, not with a bloody K as mine is."

"Ah well," he said beaming her a broad smile "What's in a letter or a spelling?"

Kat smiled, she liked being flirted with and whilst at her age, just twenty two, Mike was rather on the old side for her, she felt very attracted to him. In any case she had always preferred 'older men.'

"Not much really," she replied noting his gaze quite unashamedly running up and down her body as if measuring her up. She felt a little shiver go through her when his intensely blue eyes met and held her green eyed, stare.

"I just wanted to thank you for rescuing us the other day, it was kind of you."

"Well Marcus is a pig, so I was pleased to do it."

"You're a temp here aren't you Kat, with a K."

"Yes Mike with an M, I am."

"Like a proper job?"

"Such as?"

And that's how Kat with a K became a promo girl.

****

The first few jobs were straightforward. Handing out leaflets at a football match, working on a stand at a trade fair and acting as a receptionist at a product launch for a car company. Kat enjoyed it. Although the hours were sometime very long, the pay was good, the work surroundings were generally fine, she got to stay in nice hotels and the people, mostly girls, she worked with were great.

Inevitably, as she knew it was for Mike had warned her, she had to take her turns at the flashtit, as they all called it, stuff. This was usually wearing a bikini and being draped over car bonnets or parading up and down at a trade shows or at outdoor sites handing out leaflets very scantily dressed.

"Rough with the smooth Kat," Mike said when he popped into Earls Court to see the girls after Kat had been working for him for a few weeks.

"What do you mean?" she asked, feeling a little shudder go through her as his forthright gaze swept up and down her nearly bare body lingering, it seemed on her breasts. Although they were full, they were not really large, but they had fairly prominent nipples that always looked as if they were hard.

"You're on corporate for the next few weeks, in London, Paris and Geneva, lucky girl."

Corporate was the plum job. Mike never put newcomers on it, no matter how pretty they were, until they had proved themselves on the less important stuff. Kat had done very well to get on it within a month or so of starting with the Speechley Goodman promotions agency.

The corporate division worked for big companies usually providing hostesses, receptionist and general helpers for company conferences and conventions, product launches, AGMs and the like. Usually they were big gatherings and the agency would provide anywhere between ten and fifty girls. Sometimes, though they were smaller, perhaps a company board meeting or a reception or party. Then there might just be two or three girls present.

****

Kat was not one of those girls who claimed to love men's pricks. She did not have a penis fascination. To her they served a purpose and did that wonderfully well. And that purpose was to fill her as full as possible then fuck her hard until it made her cum.

This was different though. This cock was gorgeous. It was the son of the Chairman of a small, boutique, very discrete investment bank who owned the cock. Not only was it longer and rounder than most that Kat had seen, but it was beautifully smooth, perfectly shaped, uncut and, as it slid in and out of her mouth, she noted it was stunningly hard and wonderfully warm.

She and two other girls from the SG agency were working for the company at a week long series of presentations to existing and prospective clients, all very high wealth individuals. They had started in London on the Sunday afternoon, worked there that evening and all day Monday then had been taken by private jet from Blackbush to Geneva then on to Paris and back here to London at the Lanesborough on the Thursday evening to finish the presentation on the Friday. An exhausting, but nevertheless exhilarating, wonderfully well paid and exciting commission. And not only was the pay good, but she also got to keep the two Hermes suits, one with trousers the other a skirt, that the bank supplied.

Hamilton, the son of the owner, had been attracted to Kat from when they met on the Sunday. He had been told by the manager who arranges these functions that the SG girls probably would put out for the bank's 'big wigs,' but that they were not hookers and should not be offered to the clients. "I have another source for that, so if any clients want it let me know," he'd explained to Ham.

During the few months Kat had been with SG, it had gradually dawned on her that many, maybe most even, of the girls did provide more than hostess or admin duties.

"If he's nice and I fancy him, why not? There's always a nice present at the end," one of the girls Kat worked with several times had told her.

"I only do it when working corporate," another had said whilst yet another had offered. "I don't mind doing it corporate or not, after all I can triple, at least my salary that way and get great pressies."

Kat was not especially promiscuous, but then neither was she shy in getting her knickers off for the right guys. Although she didn't have a different partner each week or anything like that, by the time she joined SG, her bedpost was certainly too small to take all the notches it would need to record the number of lovers she'd had.

So with the girls she worked with in the first few weeks she let it be known, albeit subtly, that she would be up for it if the right opportunity presented itself.

The opportunity had began to present itself in Geneva, when Hamilton seemed to take Kat under his wing. He was especially attentive and very complimentary to her about the way she was organising both the appointments with the hard to handle clients and also the back to back hourly presentations by the financial analysts. He held her elbow as they walked out of the presentation rooms, he touched her shoulder and then pecked her on the cheek goodnight after dinner in Geneva on the Tuesday.

Undressing in her hotel room she had half expected a knock on the door and as she climbed into bed naked she actually felt a tinge of disappointment.

"Maybe we could have dinner tonight," the quiet, unassuming son of the chairman said half way through the proceedings at the George Cinq in Paris on the Wednesday afternoon. "I know father is entertaining tonight and won't need us.

She agreed.

"So what's on this evening?" Fiona had asked around four in the afternoon.

"Well actually Fi, Ham has asked me out to dinner."

"Oh fucking brilliant, leave me by myself in fucking Paris."

"I'm sorry, I'll cancel him," Kat immediately offered.

"Kat, luv, don't be silly. If you've got the chance to bed Hamilton Burleigh, fuck Fiona Mattingson, You go for it, I would."

As it happens, Kat didn't bed Hamilton that evening. It was going along nicely and was heading that way, but a phone call from dad around nine summoning Ham to a meeting stymied it.

"I am so sorry to mess up your evening Kat," Hamilton so politely said as they left Les Moulins on the left bank and climbed into the Mercedes limo. He dropped her off at the George Cinq, giving her a gentle kiss on both cheeks as they stood in the sumptuous reception. "Maybe I can make it up tomorrow?" He whispered.

"I'm sure you can and will," Kat replied, feeling quite pleased with her evening's performance.

They had finished early on the Thursday and dad and most of the bank's executives had gone home to their London homes. Kat and Fiona, Hamilton and two other senior managers had stayed at the hotel.

"Er I'm all fixed up tonight," Fiona smiled as they visited the ladies after the last presentation.

"Oh that's good," Kat said genuinely pleased for her colleague. "Yes Matthew Henderson has asked me to dinner."

Kat never got to go out to dinner with Ham. Despite its splendour, room service in any hotel is hardly going out to dinner is it? But having said that, it's a brilliant way to have an evening of sex.

"How about dinner in my suite?" Ham had said as they wrapped things up around five.

"Whatever you prefer?" Kat had replied. "What time?"

"Why not now, just as we are, no fuss, no bother," he'd replied.

And that was how Kat came to be kneeling on the luxurious, thick pile carpet of the Lanesborough, her dark blue suit jacket and white, silk blouse undone, her tight skirt pulled up round her waist, her tits pulled out from her bra and Hamilton's cock deep in her mouth.

****

Kevin was quite a different kettle of fish to the clients who Kat had become used to during the nine months or so she had been a promo girl. He didn't just want a quick fuck, he wanted an affair. Whilst some of the dozen or so guys she'd had sex with as part of her job asked to see her again, it was purely for sex. So she would meet them in a bar or restaurant, occasionally their hotel, have dinner, maybe go to a club or a casino and end up in their bed, usually in a hotel, but sometimes in 'the company flat.' Always, though, she was treated exceptionally well, was taken to the top restaurants and clubs and was 'rewarded' with fantastic presents.

Kevin, on the other hand, certainly wanted sex, but also something more. Not love, not quite that, for he told Kat he loved his wife. But he wanted more than just a quick fuck now and then. He liked taking her out, being seen with her, being seen with a woman nearly twenty years his junior, being seen to be able still to pull the young birds. And that, Kat worked out, was what it was with this guy who owned a successful business in the oil industry. He needed to hang onto his youth and the key way to do that was to pull and fuck women in their late teens and early twenties.

Hamilton, was completely the other way, with regard to Kat that is not his sexuality, although Kat heard enough from him to suspect he was quite bi; public schools for you she thought. She wasn't in the least concerned about that, although as she sucked his cock she sometimes wondered whose mouth it may have been in the night before?

After going with him to his suite that very first time, he had immediately kissed her. He told her he'd wanted to do that all week and that he fancied her so much that when he was around her "I have a permanent hard on," he explained pressing his erection against her tummy.

He was quite different when they were alone than with a crowd, much more open, confident and assured.

"See that's what you do to me," he'd said squeezing her breast with one hand, her bum with the other and pulling her stomach hard against his cock.

Kat forgot this was work, well sort of. She let herself get carried away a little and whispered.

"Well what should we do about that do you think?" She said, as his fingers fumbled the buttons on her blouse undone.

"Mmmm what lovely tits," he groaned confidently sliding his hand into the cup of her white, lacy Janet Reger bra that had cost her a fortune.

"Thank you kind sir," she smiled kissing him again as she began to lose her nervousness.

His hands were on her bum, squeezing and kneading it and pulling her skirt slowly up her legs as she and he continued the deep, tongue probing kiss.

"Oh fuck me," he said in his rather plumby accent when he broke the kiss and his hand worked out she was wearing self support stockings. "Don't tell me you've been wearing these all week?"

"No, I went to my room just before we came here, remember?"

"Oh yes."

"I changed some of the essentials for you?"

"Wow, that's fantastic," he said holding her at arms length and running his eyes up and down her body. She wasn't sure whether he was referring to the fact she had changed or to the matching, white, lacy JR thong and the lacy topped holdup stockings that he could now see.

Her suit jacket and blouse were undone, her tits had been pulled out of her bra, her skirt was bunched round her waist and her tiny thong and stocking tops were very much on view. His shirt was open to the waist and his belt was undone. His erection was very evident inside the beautifully tailored thin wool trouser.

"I'll show you what we should do about it?" He said slowly sliding his zip down.

It was then that he moved backwards and propped himself against a table just as he let his trousers slide down his long legs.

"Pull them down Kat," he croaked putting his fingers inside the waist of his boxers, which as she took hold of them she noticed were silk. Her throat went dry as she slid them down and saw his cock for the first time.

She felt nervous, but had no idea why. His hands were on her shoulders, inside the suit jacket and blouse, on her bare skin, they felt nice. Hers, both of them, were holding his erection, softly almost absentmindedly stroking it and his balls, which Kat saw and felt were big and heavy. She liked men's balls and would often spend ages with a lover stroking, cupping, squeezing and sucking them. She felt a pressure on her shoulders. He was pushing her downwards. She didn't understand at first, but then it clicked. She let her body react to the pressure and slowly sank down until she was kneeling before.

Looking up at him, her black hair cascading down over her shoulder with a few locks falling down her chest accentuating the whiteness of her skin, she licked the length of his cock and smiled.

"Am I on the right tracks?"

Although in every way in the boardrooms, restaurants, meetings and receptions where Kat had seen him, Hamilton had been the perfect gentlemen, in the bedroom, forgive the irrelevance of them being in a lounge, he became something different.

Not for him the convention of offering to wear a condom, not for him the tradition of letting the sucker lead the way and not for him the formality of warning of his impending ejaculation. No, once Kat had taken him into her mouth, he grabbed her head, held it tight and started to fuck her face. He made her deep throat him, well as much as she could and gave no warning other than a deep growl of his impending climax. And to top it all he came all over her face. 'The irony of the whole fucking charade' Kat thought as she cleaned herself in the sumptuous bathroom, was that she enjoyed it.

She stayed the night with him. They had sex before going to sleep and again early the next morning, before she did the walk of shame back to her own room to get ready for work. He wasn't that good at actually fucking her. He was in far too much of a hurry and so much more concerned with his own satisfaction than pleasing her that it all became rushed and rather frantic. That was all made worthwhile, however, when they were finishing up on the Friday afternoon.

"Thanks Kat, for a wonderful night," he said quietly so no one else would here as he gave her a small package. "I hope we can do it again sometime."

She opened it on the tube home. It was a beautiful Fendi clutch bag and matching purse. Inside the purse were ten, crisp red fifty pound notes.

If that was Kat's rather contradictory introduction to the behind the scenes world of promotions work, her next jaunt, which was with Kevin, was much more straightforward.

She was on her second job with him when he fucked her. There had seemed little doubt that he would right from the moment she met him. In fact before then really, because when Mike had told her of the project he had described Kevin as 'quite a player." He was so right and, without any doubt, it was a great fuck, a memorable one really.

He had asked her to go out with him after a series of presentations in London and Aberdeen had finished. He had picked her up from her flat in Bayswater in a chauffeur driven Bentley. They had drinks at a club in Curzon Street, dinner at Nobu and then went to a club in Jermyn Street where they had danced and he had stroked her bum and touched the sides of her tits. It really was a date, not an extension of work, she realised. Kat, like many of the other girls, had become a little cynical when anyone connected with work asked them out and she knew she had to guard against that.

On the short drive across Hyde Park from the club to her flat, he kissed her and she kissed him back. He had earned it, he deserved it and she wanted to do it.

He had pushed her back into the corner of the leather seat and was almost lying on top of her, certainly his crotch was pressed firmly against the top of her thigh. As they kissed so his hand ran up and down her back and side. From just beneath her armpit to just below her waist. He squeezed her hip, stroked the side of her stomach, pushed round a bit onto the side of her bum, which was squashed against the seat. Her arm was round his neck, her fingers ruffling his long, wavy hair. He touched her breast, she jumped and let out a little sigh; it felt so good. Kevin felt more than saw her reaction, he was good at noting such things, but then 'quite a player' had to be, it was part of their job really. It told him that the gate was open, she was giving him the green light, she was clearly up for it. He cupped her breast and squeezed it.

She had nice breasts, but then the girls he went after always did. Not big, not D or DD cup udders as his wife had. Over the years he had come to dislike big, floppy tits. He now preferred pert little B or at a push C cup jobbies, just like the one of Cat's, which was now in his hand.