Meet Kristoff and Clarissa. A stunning blonde couple relaxing and enjoying a late and light lunch, before the work planned for the evening ahead. Everything about this couple stands out. They're both gorgeous specimens of health and beauty. Immaculately dressed, manicured, pedicured and both sporting real golden tans and brilliant white smiles.
Lets look first at Clarissa, mid twenties, athletic build, dressed and shoed in a chic Gucci evening dress ensemble; coloured subtle shades of deep red. No jewelry on slender fingers or bared collarbones. Just a simple and understated pair of diamond studs glinting out from the curled blonde locks. Prominent cheekbones are softened by full pouting lips but accentuated by large ice blue eyes, curled lashes and modelled brows. Very much dressed to kill but smiling and laughing at ease with her counterpart sat opposite.
Now Kristoff, the easiest way to describe him is "Viking in a business suit". Well over 6 feet with the same curling blonde hair but not styled, just falling effortlessly and perfectly down his long strong neck, reaching out to his broad shoulders. Chiselled, hawk like features with piercing deep blue eyes. A strong and clean shaven jaw moves laconically as he swaps small talk. His hands are at odds with the clearly well toned body beneath the light grey business suit. Flawlessly manicured and soft with deft fingers where one would expect to see coarse fat digits. He's never done a day's manual labour in his life.
Sitting directly behind Kristoff's left shoulder, in the adjacent booth of the restaurant facing Clarissa, is the mark for the evening. He's dressed in a similar fashion to Kristoff albeit without the leonine grace and ease that Kristoff wears it. His suit is rumpled and dark blue showing signs it's been worn all day. He's not a bad looking guy, Clarissa guesses he's in his early forties and taking care of himself. Short dark hair, neatly coiffed, tops a face devoid of humour. His eyes dark and predatory as they flick round the restaurant, always coming back to rest on Clarissa. A thick rolex appearing in view as he keeps taking sips of mineral water. Clarissa met his gaze and smiled shyly but widely before returning her attention back to Kristoff.
"I think we're on darling," She kept her voice soft and pitched low. The mark was a reasonable distance away but it never hurt to be careful.
"Good, good, likes what he sees?" Kristoff's baritone was naturally sotto voce but he leaned forward over the table a little anyway.
"Yes, the looks are getting more frequent and lasting longer now. He's probably wondering about you so now seems a good time for you to go."
Kristoff stood unhurriedly and reached for his wallet. He moved out of the booth, around to Clarissa's side. He was a pro and had no need or desire to glance at the mark. They'd done this more times than they could either remember. He took out a sizeable wedge of bills, folded them as he leaned down to brush a kiss on Clarissa's cheek, while surreptitiously placing the bills under her hand on the table. "Thank you" he said simply and clearly, they smiled briefly at each other, then he turned and walked slowly from the restaurant.
Clarissa waited until she knew she had the marks' attention, reached for her purse and quickly unfolded the bills to fit into it. Glancing up at the last second and freezing just as she was about to close it. She saw the realisation dawn in his face and the leering smile appeared on thin lips as she blushed and snapped the bag shut. Gotcha!
George Hounslow was mesmerised by Clarissa. He'd noticed her as soon as they'd walked in, she was absolutely stunning, unfortunately, so was the clean cut guy she was with. He couldn't help stealing glances throughout his meal, she really was striking. He rubbed absently at the indent on his ring finger. He'd only taken it off as he boarded his flight to Vegas. He was a regular here. Business needs happily coinciding with personal ones as he escaped the miserable status driven bitch at home. Well, he'd done a full day in the office and now it was playtime. Shame this ones taken he thought to himself. He could imagine having those lips around his member. Suddenly, she locked eyes and smiled at him inciting an immediate reaction in his pants. Who was this guy she was with? Boyfriend? Client? He got his answer a minute later as the effeminate faced man got up and paid her! He watched as she tried to quickly stash the cash and she froze like a rabbit in the headlights when he caught her doing it. Gotcha!
He normally hooked up with one of the call girls that frequented his hotel bar. That was a large wad of bills he'd given her but hell she looked worth every penny! George made his mind up as if it was his choice. He picked up his glass and sauntered slowly over to stand before her. She watched with wary eyes, probably wondering if he was an undercover cop. "May I join you?"
"Sure" She flashed a brilliant smile while holding his gaze and the smile widened as his eyes flicked south for a moment to appreciate the visible tops of her pert breasts. She never wore a bra and a quick casual brush of her left hand up her inner thigh was enough to make her nipples react and stand proud against the material as he sat quickly opposite her. His eyes flicked again noticing the growth, and his lips parted before the leer reappeared.
"I couldn't help but notice you looking a little guilty putting all that money away" he drawled expecting a blushing and stuttering denial. She just returned his stare passively, the smile not wavering for an instant as she leaned toward him and asked quietly:
"Cop or Client?"
George was a little flustered but tried to play it cool. "What would you say if I said Cop?" he whispered also shuffling forward to lean in.
"I'd say you're duty bound to inform me, arrest me and charge me." She replied in an imitation of his whisper. "But if you are, and you do, you won't get to put this inside me." Her right hand shot forward under the table and grabbed his crotch, giving it a rough, stroking squeeze. George was still holding the water as his package was grabbed, he jumped, spilling a little onto his lap and her hand. His eyes were wide as he stared at her smiling face.
"Not a Cop" he managed to croak as her squeezing continued.
"Good, then I can get you much wetter than this" She purred finally releasing him and putting her elbows on the table, lacing her fingers.
"I'd ask how much but I'm passed caring." George whispered in a gabbled stream. He was ready to leave with her right now.
"I have a rule" He wilted a little at the statement.
"Let me guess, no kissing?"