As she had done on previous nights recently, Camilla used Nigrovum to help her stay awake after having had very little sleep; wearing tiger-skin tights (without underwear), black high heels, and her usual harlot-bright makeup, she waited in front of Agape's house for Mr. Holland to pick her up in his car.
It was about 4:45 AM when his car stopped at the curb in front of her dad's house. Mr. Holland got out of the car to get a better look at her. "What
are
you wearing, baby?" he asked as he ogled her.
"Do you like it?" she asked, turning around for him. "I know you prefer dresses and skirts, but this is kinda sexy too, eh?"
"It sure is, my tempting little tigress," he said, looking up and down at her. "Look, you even have a camel-toe."
"Yeah," she said, giggling. "Wanna touch?"
"Definitely." He stroked her between the legs with his right hand, and she closed her eyes, moaning softly. His left hand caressed her buttocks, moving up and down her anal cleft, then moved up to fondle her right breast. "No undies...wonderful."
"Sir," she sighed. "As much as...I love the way...you touch me, if you continue...I'll come, and mess up...my clothes."
"You're right," he said. "We've gotta get going to the airport, anyway. Get in the car, sweetie; I'll put your bag in the trunk."
****************
They arrived at
le Chalet
, their hotel in Montreal, at about 10 AM. As soon as the bellboy left them alone in their room, Camilla unzipped her tights at the back.
"Wait, cupcake," he said. "I'm gonna be too busy for that right now. Wait till tonight, OK?"
"OK," she said, having already pulled off the tights and removing her shoes. "But I want to take a shower. I feel dirty."
Looking at her frontally naked body, he said, "You don't seem that way to me...at least not on the outside." She giggled and went into the bathroom.
She had her shower as he went over his business papers; he continued his work after she finished up in the bathroom and went to bed nude for a nap. It took all of his strength to refrain from pulling away the blankets and admiring that body with his hands and mouth, but he had to finish preparing what he would do that afternoon.
At about 1 PM, he was finished, and he had to wake her up. He wouldn't do so without having a little fun, though.
He carefully pulled the blankets away so as not to disturb her. She lay on her belly with her legs open in a thin Lambda shape; he gazed on her naked beauty, adoring her softness and curves. He gently and slowly opened her buttocks, careful not to wake her, and brought his mouth down to her exposed anus. He tongued it while closing her buttocks against either side of his face. She still hadn't woken, but she sighed softly, as though his excitations were improving her dreams. Then he slowly slid his right index finger inside her vagina; reaching her G-spot, he massaged it briefly. He gently kissed her anus.
"Oh," Camilla moaned, waking up and looking back at her boss. "Do you like that, sir?"
"Oh," he said, raising his head up suddenly. "Sorry, sweetie; I couldn't resist. I hope you don't mind."
"Oh, I liked it; best wake-up I ever had." She rolled over, showing off her large breasts and pubic hair. Then she yawned and stretched, pushing her breasts out for his hungry eyes to see.
Resisting temptation for the sake of being on time, he said, "Get dressed, honey. We have to get to the first factory by 2 PM. Don't wear that tiger-skin outfit, though. We won't be able to concentrate on our work."
"OK, I'll put on a dress." She got off the bed, and as she walked over to her luggage he spanked her ass. She took out a tight-fitting brown dress and matching high heels. "Do you want me to wear underwear, Mr. Holland?"
"Whichever you prefer, cupcake."
"OK, I won't."
*****************
After their visit to the factories, they joined his Quebec associates in a fancy restaurant for a business dinner. Mr. Holland and M. Larre were sitting opposite Camilla at their table for five, and both men were eyeing her lasciviously.
As the four businesspeople (one of whom was a fat woman in her fifties) were discussing what could be done in the factories to improve efficiency and prevent future product malfunctions, Camilla--though taking notes above the table--had removed her right shoe and slid her foot under Mr. Holland's crotch. Gently sliding her foot back and forth, she massaged his erection.
She found Mr. Larre, 48, with streaks of grey hair embellishing his black hair, as attractive as her boss. He dropped his fork under the table; Camilla used Nigrovum to distract the other three so he, unnoticed, could search under the table for it...and see whatever else might have been of interest. She also psychically emboldened and prodded him, so he promptly got under the table.
A split-second accidental look up the fat woman's skirt made him quickly turn his head away in disgust; then he looked up Camilla's dress and saw her glorious pussy. Her legs were spread open, and her fingers pulled her labia wide open. Seeing her foot rubbing against Holland's boner, M. Larre softly snickered to himself; then he brought his hand over to her cunt and slowly slid his finger inside. He gently pushed it in deeper and pulled it out again... in, out, in, out. She got wetter and wetter.
Sighing softly with her mouth slightly open and her eyes half-closed, Camila tried to hide her excitement from the others at the table. Mr. Holland noticed, but assumed she was hot from touching him. Larre pushed his finger several times against her A-spot, and she, pretending to cough, came in his cupped hand. (Her dress was flipped up, so she didn't make a mess on it.) He drank her come, licked his hand, got his fork, and got up to rejoin the others. She used her napkins to clean up the mess on her chair.
When they finished their dinner, M. Larre chatted with Camilla by the restaurant cash register as their bill was being settled.
"So, what are you doing later tonight, Camilla?" he asked.
Knowing what he was implying, she said, "Sorry; Mr. Holland wants me to be with him tonight. He's my boss, and I must obey him."
"Of course, that's part of your jo-, uh, respon-"
"No, no," she whispered with a grin and taking no offence at what he obviously meant. "I'm just his secretary, not a prostitute."
"Oh, I'm sorry if I seemed to be implying..."
"Oh, no, that's OK. He's not paying me for what you saw me doing under the table. I like doing things like that for him."
"Why do you like doing that, Camilla?"
"Because it pleases him," she answered in all candour.
"I see," he said with a lewd smile. "Lucky guy. You like, uh, pleasing men?"
"If I like them. You ever come down to Toronto?"
"Often. In fact, I'll be there at a party next Friday. I'd love to have you accompany me. Would you like to come?"
"I'd love to!" she squealed with a smile. "I love to party."
"How can I contact you next week?"
"Do you know a strip joint called
Club Ritz
?"
"Yes," he said. "I go there every time I visit Toronto."