The Yellow Pages Girl Pt. 03

Sorry it's taken so long to get this next instalment written and published! Hopefully you will enjoy the continuing saga of Charlotte and Gemma's adventures!

"You have really nice legs, you know Charlotte," said Gemma, grinning at me. She was so busy staring at my legs -- again -- that she didn't notice that the lights had changed to green, and the car behind hooted impatiently.

She quickly accelerated away, but drifted her hand onto my thigh, pushing my skirt up a little and sensually touching me over the sheer nylon of my satiny, opaque tights. Just the brush of her hand was enough to start my pussy tingling, especially as her hand started travelling up my thigh towards the warmth between my legs. Even though I would have loved her to continue, I gently but firmly moved her hand away.

"Gemma, you need to concentrate on your driving, and I don't want a wet patch on the back of my best business skirt! You know what you do to me..."

Gemma pretended to sulk, then replied, "Mmm, you could always hitch it up round your waist," she teased, trying to worm her hand back between my legs, her fingers dancing over the sensitive part of my inner thigh. "Remember our strapline -- 'Let your fingers do the walking' -- and giggled.

This time, I grasped her hand and placed it firmly back on the steering wheel. "You can just wait till we get to the hotel. We're not about to give all the lorry drivers a cheap thrill, watching you touching me up in the car!"

We were both in high spirits. It had been a good day. We'd packed, had an early breakfast, checked out and were on the road by 8am. The first task was to leave my car at our local office, so we could both travel in Gemma's company car, a black BMW 320. I liked driving my Mondeo but was slightly envious of her elevated status and the corporate trappings which went with it.

Once we'd dropped off my car, we had set off on a whistle-stop tour of appointments and had closed four deals from the five business calls we'd made, breaking only for a light pub lunch with a prospect. I had to admit, Gemma was a very persuasive salesperson. She also had no reservations about using her womanly charms to persuade the male customers to sign on the dotted line.

I had watched her get dressed that morning... she'd put on a beautiful white balcony bra, edged with delicate embroidery, with a raised polka dot effect. It was opaque enough to be just decent, but I could clearly see the dark outlines of her nipples under it. The matching panties were equally delectable, transparent enough for me to be able to make out her slit through the flimsy material.

The effect was stunning. "Fuck me," I'd gasped, as she'd twirled like a model for me, showing off her body for my appreciation. She looked even sexier in the underwear than she did naked, if that were possible.

"I'd love to, Char, but we need to get going. You'll just have to wait till tonight," she'd said with a cheeky smile, her brown eyes sparkling.

She had completed her outfit with a very fitted skirt which showed off her shapely bum, and a pale green blouse which was thick enough not to be transparent but was equally thin enough to clearly show the lacy edge of her bra, and on occasions, the bumps of her nipples protruding through it. The blouse plunged into a 'V' just far enough to show a distinct hint of cleavage. Finally, a fitted bolero jacket only served to enhance, rather than hide those gorgeous breasts.

I had a hard time resisting the temptation to rip it all off again, but had to settle for giving her a long, luxurious kiss, squeezing her peachy bottom all the while.

When in the lift on our way to the ground floor, we found the rear wall was fitted with a floor-to-ceiling mirror. Standing hip to hip, we were not disappointed with our reflected image. I'd chosen a charcoal grey skirt suit with a cream blouse with black tights, in contrast to Gemma's tan ones. We had smiled at each other in the mirror. Gemma had nodded, murmuring, "We look fucking knockout, don't we?" I had to agree. We did.

The impact on the male businessmen was almost comical. Whilst the eyes are truly windows to the soul, men's eyes are also equipped with laser beams, only visible to the female of the species, which show exactly where their vision is directed.

Arriving at one meeting, we had been ushered into a glass walled, air-conditioned meeting room. By the time the two middle-aged gentlemen entered the room, my nipples had reacted to the cool air; I could feel my hard nubs poking through my bra and blouse. A quick glance at Gemma's tits confirmed that the sudden chill was having the same effect on her.

The men's eyes constantly flitted from one pair of breasts to the other as we made our presentation; I could see the lust in their eyes, as they mentally drooled, trying to imagine how it would feel, to hold and caress them, to free them from their lacy wrappings.

At one point, Gemma even leaned over the table, on the pretext of pointing out some detail on the paperwork. She must have given the pair of them a proper eyeful down her cleavage. The poor guys didn't stand a chance. Ten minutes later, we were striding confidently across the car park, a signed order safely stashed in my briefcase.

Gemma turned and winked at me. "Lambs to the slaughter, eh?" she said, with a big grin.

The curious thing about being in sales, is that success breeds more confidence, which breeds more success. By the time we arrived at our final meeting of the day, it was more or less a foregone conclusion that we would get the order.

But on this occasion, our provocative business dress backfired somewhat. We were met by a frumpy, middle-aged woman, who looked like she probably hadn't been screwed in years. She looked us up and down over the top of her glasses, for all the world like we were a couple of streetwalkers who had just strolled into her office.

"Dried up old bitch," was Gemma's only comment as we beat a hasty retreat from that one. Some you win, some you lose. I couldn't complain; we were already achieving a massive improvement over what I had been doing, working solo.

Gemma proved to be easy company in the car. We talked about all kinds of things, not just work. It turned out that we had similar tastes in music and agreed that we should go to watch some live concerts together. I was beginning to really enjoy having a girlfriend.

Gemma had woken something in me, something which either I didn't know existed, or which I had been repressing; I didn't know which, but it gave me a lovely feeling when I thought about our wonderful love making the day before. It thrilled me even more to think of what might be to come -- without a doubt, she still had much to teach me.

It was almost dark by the time we arrived at our next hotel. Once Gemma had found a parking spot, she switched off the engine and turned to me.

"Have you enjoyed today?" she asked, smiling.

"Yeah, I really have. We make a good team, don't we?" I rested my hand on hers. "And it's really lovely to have your company... I feel like a new woman, honestly." With that, I put my arms around her and hugged her tight.

"Come on," she said, "let's go and get checked in, then I think we ought to have a glass of fizz to celebrate today."

At Reception, the young woman looked up and greeted us in heavily accented English. Her name badge identified her as 'Hanna'.

"Good evening, are you checking in?"

I would have thought that was rather obvious, considering the amount of luggage we'd hauled in, but maybe it was their standard greeting phrase.

Gemma gave her name and the booking reference; Hanna scanned the computer screen with a fingernail.

"Ah yes. One room, two nights, yes?"

Gemma nodded. I noticed that the young woman gave more than a passing glance at Gemma's tits, smiled sweetly at her, then tapped away at the keyboard.

"Whereabouts are you from?" Gemma asked, sounding like she was just making conversation.

"I am Dutch," the young woman replied. "The Netherlands. Would you like a twin or a double room?" she asked, in a matter-of-fact way, entirely free of innuendo.

"A double please," said Gemma, without a hint of embarrassment. I was relieved there was no-one standing behind us in line, to hear her response. I could feel my cheeks redden slightly, at the thought of a shared king-size bed.

Hanna handed us key cards, then went through all the usual stuff: where the dining room was, the time breakfast was served, and so on, before directing us to our room. We were just about to walk away, when I was suddenly reminded of the ever-increasing pile of dirty laundry in my case -- including at least one pair of sopping knickers and a very damp pair of jeans.

"Excuse me," I asked, stepping up to the desk. This time, her eyes went to my tits. "Do you happen to have a laundry service here?"

"Oh, I am afraid not. I am sorry," she replied.

I wasn't overly surprised. This hotel wasn't really up-market enough for that. "Oh, OK. Would you know if there's a launderette anywhere nearby, please? I have been on the road quite a while, and I'm literally running out of clean clothes."

She thought for a few moments, then shook her head. "I am so sorry. I don't know of one anywhere in this locality."

I turned to Gemma and said, "We're going to have to find one tomorrow, somewhere. Situation rapidly becoming critical."

We were just about to walk off, when Hanna leaned over the desk and spoke quietly, obviously not wanting the other staff to hear.

"If it's of help to you, I could take your things home and wash them for you. I do that sometimes for guests in this situation, although it's normally men's shirts. I finish work at 8pm and could bring the clean things back tomorrow."

I was immediately thrown into a dilemma. On the one hand, finding a launderette could be quite a problem and even if we did find one, it would probably be in some horrible, seedy area. Plus, it would take at least a couple of hours out of our day, waiting for the machines to do their thing. Then I thought about what was in that carrier bag, and the thought of some stranger handling my 'smalls', including my various pairs of soiled knickers, some soaked with my own juices, another pair with Ben's cum in them as well.

"That would be so kind of you," Gemma butted in, making my mind up for me. "If you're sure you don't mind; we will pay you, of course."

"It is not a problem for me. I will come to your room at 8pm and collect your things."

We were waiting for the lift, out of earshot of anyone else, when I hissed at Gemma, "You do realise what's in that bag, don't you? Bloody hell, Gem, I'm going to die from embarrassment!"

The lift pinged to signal its arrival and the doors opened. Once we had wheeled our luggage in, they closed behind us and she replied with a giggle, "She'll probably enjoy it. I imagine she'll be sitting there, sniffing your knickers, with her fingers in her pussy!"

"You what?" I was incredulous.

"Didn't you see the way she was looking at me? If you hadn't been here, I'd have been tempted to hit on her. Sure she's into girls. She figured out we were probably 'together', didn't she?"

"How on earth do you know that? She was just being friendly!"

"Just little signs... a look... body language. Pound to a penny, she's gay. Or at least Bi. Trust me. That's why she asked if we wanted a double room."

"Gemma, you are absolutely incorrigible!" I said, shaking my head, as the lift doors opened with a ping.

Once we were in the privacy of our room, Gemma turned to me and said in a sultry voice, "Char, I've been dying to do this all day..."

With that, she held me close and kissed me passionately, her hands travelling all over my body, the pillows of our breasts pressed together as we embraced. My nipples hardened in response, and I felt little jolts in my puss as her tongue delved into my mouth.

All too soon, she broke the kiss, took my hands in hers, then said, "Come on girl. Let's go down to the bar and get a drink and some dinner. Glancing at her watch, she added, "Then we can be back up here in time for Hanna."

"Eeew, it's 'Hanna' now, is it?" I replied, a little sarcastically, feigning jealousy.

"Maybe we could talk her into a threesome," retorted Gemma, raising her eyebrows and grinning. "Bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

A couple of days ago, I would probably have slapped her face for saying something like that. Now, the thought lodged in my mind and on the way down to the bar, I caught myself wondering what Hanna's breasts looked like, when devoid of the austere uniform... what her pussy might taste like... whether hers would be like Gemma's, or somehow different?

We each had a large white wine in the bar area while we waited for our table. Clinking glasses, we toasted to the success of the day.

"You do realise, Char, that if you can maintain anything like that closure rate, you will be up there on the stage next year, picking up a top performer's award, don't you?"

"I wish you could work with me all the time. It's really good... on a number of levels," I said, rubbing my nyloned leg against hers under the table. I glanced around, to check we couldn't be overheard, then whispered, "So... were you serious about... seducing Hanna?"

Gemma gave a little laugh. "No, sweetie. Not tonight, anyway. Maybe tomorrow though, when she brings the things back. I have other plans for us after dinner. Remember the secret I told you about?"

I had, actually, completely forgotten about The Big Secret. Gemma's reminder suddenly piqued my curiosity again. "I can't wait to hear what it is!" I replied excitedly.

By the time we had finished dinner, it was 7.45pm; we had also polished off a bottle of Prosecco and both of us were slightly tipsy.

"We'd better go back up, so we can sort out our laundry. It will be nice to have everything clean again, won't it?"

In the event, we had far too much used clothing to fit it all in a carrier bag, so I emptied a small suitcase and dumped it all in there.

"We might as well get today's clothes done as well," I suggested and started stripping off. Gemma did the same and we dropped our blouses, bras, tights and panties into the case as well. Gemma reached in and picked up the creamy panties I'd just taken off. Holding them to her nose, she inhaled deeply, then tossed them back in the case, then clicked it closed.

"Mmm, I think little Hanna is going to love the smell of you on those."

I gave her a playful slap, but had to admit, the thought of Hanna getting turned on by the aroma of my pussy was rather beguiling. However, figuring we had better show some decorum, we each then pulled on a t-shirt and a remaining pair of fresh knickers. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door and Gemma let Hanna in.

"We both really appreciate you doing this for us," said Gemma. "It can be a problem, living out of a suitcase. Before long, you run out of things to wear. Look, this is all we've got left!" she said jokingly, waving her hands down her body.

This time, I watched Hanna more carefully and saw the way her eyes travelled over Gemma's body, taking in her unfettered breasts and shapely legs. The t-shirt was only just long enough to cover her panties, so there was plenty of leg on show.

Hanna laughed too. She seemed nice -- petite, with quite a pretty face with dark blonde hair, tied back, about 5' 4" tall. The drab hotel uniform really didn't flatter her, and left me wondering how she would look, all dressed up. Or undressed...

Gemma introduced me. "By the way, this is Charlotte."

"Hi Charlotte, nice to meet you," she said, offering her tiny hand. I took her hand and held it, maybe for a second longer than was really necessary. I liked the way she looked into my eyes. Maybe Gemma was right, after all...

I pointed to the case and said, "It's all in there... Can we settle up with you tomorrow?"

"Of course," Hanna replied. Shall I bring it to your room when I finish work?"

"That would be perfect, thank you so much. See you tomorrow," I added. With that, Hanna picked up the case and left. I didn't know whether to cringe from embarrassment or giggle at what she would find when she opened it.

"Now then," said Gemma. My little secret!" She opened up the Compaq laptop and switched it on. It was the latest LTE Elite model, with a colour screen. Soon, the Windows 95 desktop appeared. Gemma plugged the modem into the hotel phone socket and opened up the comms program. The modem went through its chirruping handshake process and finally, a green light appeared in the connection panel.

"Great, we're connected, now let me show you something," Gemma said, as she launched Netscape Navigator and then typed into the address bar. A web page appeared, predominantly purple, with gold text. She typed her login details into the box and a few seconds later, the screen changed, and a profile page appeared.

The name in the headline read, 'JEMIMA_36DD'. The slightly blurry photo appeared to show Gemma's tits, in a black lacy bra.

"Oh my god, is that you?" I asked as I browsed through the text on the page. "Does this mean what I think it means?"

"Uh huh," she replied. "Let's just say, a friend persuaded me to turn my hobby into... let's say, a more lucrative pastime."

My jaw dropped as I read the words on the screen. 'Girlfriend experience'; 'Couples welcome'; '36DD breasts'; 'Shaved pussy', and a whole lot of abbreviations I didn't understand.

I didn't know how to react. I was completely taken aback, surprised, puzzled... curious? Maybe.

"Does this mean, you're a...?"

"An escort, yes. Well, a very part-time one. And before you jump, please let me explain. A while back, I got into a proper mess with my credit cards. With the interest rates being so high, I was struggling to keep up, even with the minimum payments. Then I got chatting to a friend, who told me about this.

"She basically said, 'You love having sex with all kinds of people, so why not get paid for it and make some money out of what you'd be doing anyway?'

"I asked her loads of questions and I ended up creating this profile... Char, please listen, I know you must be a bit shocked -- and I really hope you won't hate me for this, because I really like you, a lot. This is just a fun hobby, with a bit of a cash incentive. It's not like I'm a common prostitute hanging around on street corners, honestly."

I recognised I was feeling slightly hurt and a bit upset. Yeah, I'd only been with Gemma a few days and we'd only very recently been intimate. But I thought we had something a bit special going on, that would maybe lead to a long-term friendship -- with some lovely benefits. But I also realised I had no claim on her and certainly had no right to be judgemental.

I had so many questions, I hardly knew where to start. But one really bubbled to the surface.

"But surely it must be awful if you've arranged a meeting with someone, only you find they're totally repulsive, or smelly, or something? How could you possibly bear to have sex with someone like that?"

"Quite simply, I don't. I won't have sex with anyone I don't want to. I always meet them first in a public area. If I don't like what I see, I walk away. The way I look at it is, I only have sex with people who I would have done it with anyway. The only difference is, I go home with some extra money in my purse instead.

"Char, be honest... What's the difference between that and a wealthy guy wining and dining you, with the unspoken expectation that you'll sleep with him? On the one hand, you get food and drink for an evening. This way, I get money to spend, or in my case, to pay off my debts.

"I could have kept quiet about all this and kept it a secret. But we're friends, and a lot more. I just wanted it to be out in the open between us."