Working away is the worst thing in the world - especially in the middle of a bleak Lothian winter. Having flown north in an aeroplane like a winged tin-can, and housed in a hotel with an ambience like my grandmother's living room, this particular trip promised to be particularly poor.
Work was woeful, too. In town to re-train a team on how to use a new computer programme, I was delighted to discover that the required software was banjaxed with little hope of being fixed before my scheduled flight home. I resigned myself to a week of alternating between sitting on my hands and masturbating furiously.
Luckily, one of my trainees proved to be amiable and attractive: a golden haired beauty called Isla. Although she was not my usual type (rather too blonde and fake tanned), she was cute beyond comprehension: doe eyes, soft pouty lips and more than a hint of hugely alluring cleavage.
We flirted clumsily, made pathetic excuses to exchange numbers and ate lunch together whilst making awkward conversation about work. She told me she had a boyfriend but that they were not getting on - it was very clear we were going to fuck.
Under the pretence of 'entertaining' the stranger in town, Isla arranged for to bring a friend to pick me up and take me for a drink that night. Who was I to turn down such an offer - anything would be better than eating alone in the hotel restaurant.
Waiting nervously on the edge of my bed, my phone vibrated and beeped - a picture message from Isla. I opened it immediately: a full length shot of her in white underwear and heels. I hadn't realised quite how gorgeous she was: slim, toned and very leggy. I stared at my phone, barely able to believe my luck - and then noticed the message under the photo: "Want more?" My fingers have never moved so fast, quickly tapping out an affirmative response.
Within a minute, my phone buzzed again: another picture message. This time, the bra had gone. Perfectly pert breasts stared out from the miniature screen, dark pink nipples pointing upwards along with the same message: "Want more?" Of course I fucking did, and responded in the affirmative.
The next photo was even better: full length, utterly naked with Isla's hand coyly covering her crotch and her left arm half-heartedly covering her breasts. I was rock hard by this point and just about to reply when there was a knock at the door.
Thoroughly pissed off at being disturbed, I stood up and rearranged my erection so I could walk to the door, swinging it open angrily. And there she was. Isla. Alone.
She put her hand in the middle of my chest and gently pushed me back into the room. I stumbled backwards to the edge of the bed and plonked myself down. She looked absolutely stunning in tight dark-blue jeans and killer heels, a tight white shirt and a cute furry jacket - which she quickly discarded and dropped by her feet.
In her lilting, lovely accent, the instructions she offered me sounded even sexier: "Sit and watch. Don't try to touch. Don't move. When I want you to do something, I'll tell you to."
I nodded in agreement and stared as Isla slowly and deliberately began to unbutton her shirt. Without breaking eye contact, her hands deftly unfastened the buttons, revealing her magnificent breasts, pushed together by her tight bra. Reaching around behind her, she unsnapped her bra and allowed it to tumble down her arms and onto the floor. Her tits hardly moved.
Isla turned her back to me, bent at the waist and deftly pulled off her shoes. I barely noticed, too busy staring at her perfectly round arse. It was fucking magnificent - full and firm - the kind of arse I love to slap and spank. It looked even better as she wiggled out of her jeans, revealing a pair of french knickers which framed her buttocks beautifully.
Without so much as a backward glance, Isla walked over to the dressing table and picked up the stool from in front of it. Returning, she placed it in front of me, around six feet away. Without a word she sat on it, facing me. She spread her legs wide apart, revealing a damp patch on the crotch of her panties. "Watch," she whispered.
She slipped her hand into her knickers. Eyes fixed firmly on mine, she bit her lip as her fingers wandered over her pussy. I looked down, watching the silky fabric of her panties stretched taut over her fingers as she clearly began to circle her clit. It was unbelievable - this cute, innocent looking girl masturbating in front of me like a total slut.
And Isla was about to get even sluttier. With her left hand, she pulled her knickers to one side, revealing her beautiful moist cunt. Immediately her right hand moved into view, before two fingers slipped easily and wetly inside. She slowly finger fucked herself, grinding down onto her fingers, breathing heavily as she did so.
I moved to stand, but had barely stirred before Isla warned, "Sit down. Watch."
She stood straight, and turned 180 degrees, tugging her damp knickers over her arse and down to the floor, before falling to her knees. Still facing away from me she lowered her chest to the stool, leaving her round posterior stuck straight in the air. I could see the dark bud of her arsehole, and the beautiful wetness of her glistening cunt. It was fucking beautiful.
Reaching underneath herself, Isla rubbed her wet clit before sliding her fingers back into her spread pussy. "Imagine how it would feel to fuck me," she ordered.
