Professional Excellence

Monica first appeared momentarily in

Entertaining at Large Chapter XV

and then had a starring role in the next one. That's how this all started. Be worth reading if you want to be fully in the picture, Comments, suggestions and support are always appreciated.

*****

It felt peculiar stepping out of the car in front of David's house and not worrying about turning my ankle on the gravel. Odd too, that as I was wearing tailored slacks and a baggy jumper In addition to flats not heels, I didn't have to adjust my clothes to set off my assets to best effect before ringing the doorbell. I teased out my shoulder-length mane anyway, using the frosted panels in the door as a makeshift mirror. Old habits die hard.

The sound of the bell somewhere deep in the house had a Pavlovian effect and I felt my pussy tighten. I tried to block naughty thoughts from my mind as I heard footsteps approaching. Today, I was just a friend visiting to use his pool.

The phone had rung as I was preparing Sunday lunch.

'David.'

'Monique, my dear, I'm afraid I have bad news. I'm going to have to call off our Tuesday tryst.'

I smiled at his use of the archaic term. David's innate politeness was endearing. I had, over the months, persuaded him to open up a little about his desires and fantasies. But he never discussed them except in the most proper and conservative of terms.

'Is everything OK? Is there anything I can do?'

He laughed.

'Everything's fine. Thank you for your concern. No. It's just that - how can I put it - I've had a social obligation rather imposed on me that I find it impossible to get out of.'

He explained that an old army colleague had invited himself to stay for the night on his way back from some kind of regimental reunion in London. I was to that point unaware he had even been in the services; he did a three-year stint in officer training after leaving school apparently. The 'friend' had had a full career and now devoted himself to semi-professional reminiscing by writing short monographs on various aspects of military history and dragooning old comrades into tedious social events.

'I never attend. I think Cyril is coming to demand an explanation.'

He sighed dramatically. It made me laugh.

'Poor you. I shall miss our appointment. But I suppose a session in the pool at the gym will give me a chance to catch up with people I used to meet there. You're sure you don't want me to ring faking an accountancy emergency or something?'

There was silence on the other end of the line.

'I don't think that would work. But one thing does occur to me.'

'What is it? You know me, I'll try anything once.'

I giggled, I hoped lasciviously.

'You could come by and use the pool. In fact, I insist. Yes. That would at least break up the tedium of the afternoon and lay to rest any thoughts he might be having that I've turned into a hermit who needs bringing out of himself.'

'It'll be my pleasure.'

'I shall, of course, pay you for your time. I wouldn't impose Cyril on anyone without proper recompense.'

'You'll do no such thing.'

The mere suggestion had made me a little cross.

'You pay me for sexual services. Outside of that we are still friends. At least I hope we are.'

He spluttered embarrassed agreement at the other end of the line.

'So that's settled. I'll see you on Tuesday at the usual time. And I shall bring my most conservative costume.'

We exchanged a few parting pleasantries and I hung up just as Howard came into the kitchen. The smell of impending roast beef had clearly permeated through to the front room where he was following his usual Sunday morning pursuit of working his way through the broadsheets. He came over and kissed me on the cheek.

'Who was that dear?'

'Just David. He has a friend visiting next week and wanted to change our arrangements.'

'Very nice. Lunch about half-an-hour?'

He had lifted a saucepan lid to inspect the simmering vegetables.

'You open a bottle of wine, I'll call you when it's ready.'

I finished the preparations musing on my husband's reaction. I was happier now that I was able to be more open about what I was getting up to outside the house. He was more difficult to read. Changing the subject like he had that Sunday was typical. When he did ask questions it was usually in the bedroom. Then, more often than not, there would follow an energetic fuck while he verbally abused me. It was fun.

The David who opened the door to me was completely unexpected. He was wearing a lounge suit set off with a tie I took to be regimental, all stripes and tiny, unidentifiable crests. It was, in fabric, the kind of coded signal members of the establishment use to distinguish themselves from the rest of us. He looked slightly weary behind his smile. He kissed me on the cheek and held me for slightly longer than he usually did.

'Monique. You are most definitely a sight for sore eyes.'

'Difficult?'

'You might say so. Come through, I'll introduce you to Cyril.'

I caught his arm as he turned to return to his guest and kissed him as he faced me.

'You seem frazzled. What can I do to help?'

I smoothed the frown lines on his forehead with my finger as he pressed his cheek gently against my palm. Cyril had clearly got him wound up. I had never seen David so discomfited. He closed his eyes briefly to enjoy the moment of tranquility before pulling himself more erect and letting out a sigh.

'I shouldn't complain about him really. He's clearly very lonely.'

I adjusted my expression to something akin to concern.

'But he's such a pain in the butt. He started drinking about eleven. I'm just hoping he passes out soon.'

I laughed at the unexpected vehemence of David's criticism and then kissed him again.

'Sounds like a job for Monique. I should have dressed differently.'

'I don't know. He's very conservative.'

I put my finger to his lips.

'Don't worry. Leave it all to me.'

I dropped the hold-all containing my swimming gear at the foot of the stairs and followed him through to his sunlit lounge. The room was beautiful with its comfortable sofas and tasteful objects d'art set on shelves and discreet side tables. The walls were covered with oil paintings, mostly landscapes. They had been collected by Veronica whose portrait dominated the space over the mantelpiece. Today, the overall effect of serenity was broken by the braying laugh of the undistinguished little man who rose from an armchair as we entered.

Cyril, it couldn't have been anyone else, was short. No more than five-five, I estimated. He was dressed in the garb of a gentleman farmer: corduroys, a flannel shirt with clashing knitted tie, tweed jacket and the shiniest brown brogues I had ever seen. Strands of dark hair were scraped over a balding pate and cemented in place with some kind of pomade. He was pot-bellied and had the complexion of a man who punctuated his days with regular doses of alcohol. The gin and tonics on the occasional table indicated that today's dosing had already commenced. The bottles and ice bucket alongside them told me the current libation was not to be a one-off if Cyril had anything to do with it.

'You must be Cyril. I'm Monique, it's a pleasure to meet you.'

I held out my hand as he finally struggled to his feet and gave him the broadest fake smile I could muster.

'And you. Monique.'

I held onto his clammy hand longer than he wanted me to. His had been an interesting reaction to my arrival. Whilst wearing my normal working clothes I had become used to men like Cyril checking out my legs, arse and cleavage. With my 35DD tits disguised beneath the folds of my cashmere and the slacks cut for comfort rather than titillation, Cyril had dismissed me as just another woman. And women clearly had little place in his world. Still, I mused, as he fell back into an armchair, he was David's guest. All I had to do was make-nice.

'Davy and I were just discussing whether women should work outside the home.'

Cyril let out another laugh like a donkey to emphasise the ridiculousness of the idea. Now he was beginning to piss me off. David caught my expression and slipped me a wry smile and faint shrug - a sort of see-what-I-have-to-put-up-with gesture. His guest was too engrossed in reloading his drink to pick up on our exchange.

'He tells me that you raised your boys at home. Good show. Can I get you one?'

He tapped the side of his glass without looking up. I snuck another glance at David. He shrugged again.

'Do you know, I think I will. No, you boys stay where you are. I know where everything is.'

I stood and went to the cocktail cabinet and went through the motions of pouring myself a vodka. In fact I slipped a small tot of water into a tumbler and added some ice and a thin slice of lemon. Drinking during the day had never been my scene but I wanted to make Cyril feel at home.

'Chin chin.'

He took a deep draught and smacked his lips. Even that was irritating. It was definitely time for the pool. I downed my drink in one and pulled a face to make it look realistic.

'It's true I didn't work while my boys were small. But I have to say that now they're grown I'm enjoying devoting more time to my business. You'd be surprised how many people, busy people like yourself, require

personal services

.'

I had held Cyril's gaze as I deliberately emphasised the last phrase and watched as his brain processed the words. You could almost trace the path from ears to fuddled brain and then see a lightbulb go on as he got to grips with what I had said. He was confused; his small head and piggy eyes swung from me to David and then back again. David smiled benignly; he was giving nothing away. For the first time he looked like he was beginning to enjoy himself.

Cyril coughed and ran his eyes over me again. This time he was trying to see more than the housewife he had dismissed me as earlier. His colour deepened as I nonchalantly smoothed the jumper over my boobs and flicked an imaginary speck off my slacks whilst crossing my legs to make sure the material stretched tighter over my bum.

'Personal services?'

His voice was more of a squeak. I gave him my best innocent smile.

'Now you're teasing me. I know what you boys are like when you get together. I'm sure you and

Davy

have been swapping naughty stories all morning.'

I raised an eyebrow at David when I used his diminutive. Just enough to let him know I had heard it. And that if he thought he was going to get away without being teased later he was wrong. He smiled sweetly back at me. Message understood. I took a deep breath and pushed my chest out before letting it slowly release.

'Still, I'm grateful for you letting me interrupt you.'

I stretched again before resuming my Little Miss Innocent face.

'I've had a very taxing morning and a swim will just hit the spot.'

'Would you care to tell us exactly what you've been up to?'

David was warming to the wind up. He turned to his guest.

'Monique is always most discreet, but she can sometimes be prevailed upon to share. In the most general terms, of course.'

'No names, no pack drill, eh?'

Cyril's laugh was no less irritating the more he used it. He drained his glass and immediately started pouring himself another. David stood up and started towards the cabinet.

'Do you know? I think I'll join you with a small sherry. Can I get you another, Monique?'

'That's the spirit. The sun's long over the yard arm. Join us my dear and tell us about your morning.'

There was a palpable change in the atmosphere in the room. I was always surprised how quickly respectable men could get their frisk on at the prospect of a little smut. I joined David at the drinks cabinet and placed my hand over his as he reached for the vodka bottle.

'Let me. I know what you boys are like when you get like this. Get a girl squiffy and the next thing she knows she's having to search your pockets for her panties.'

It was nice to hear David's sonorous chuckle join Cyril's braying. I was glad he was beginning to enjoy himself. I let him watch me pour water into my glass and gave him a sly wink.

'You go and sit down. I'll bring your sherry over. And take those jackets off, you make me feel as if I've come for a job interview.'

I helped David out of his and folded it over the back of a chair before shooing him back to his sofa with a playful tap on the behind. It didn't go unnoticed by his portly companion despite the effort he was having to make to untangle himself from his tweed. The offending article was in a heap on the floor by the time I placed David's schooner in front of him - of course he had the correct glasses for everything. Both men were looking at me expectantly as I stood over them holding my own glass. I raised it to them both and then tossed the drink back. Even I was almost convinced by my impressive shudder as I gulped the water down. I slumped onto the sofa beside David and folded one leg under the other before ruffling my hair and resting my arm on David's shoulder.

'So what were we talking about?'

'I think you were about to tell us about your day.'

'Oh you don't want to hear about that. I was hoping Cyril might share some of the secrets of Davy's youth.'

We all laughed. David playfully tapped me on the wrist and I feigned pain. Cyril was leaning forwards in his chair, he arms resting on his knees and his face full of anticipation.

'Are you going to let him do that to me Cyril? I need a gentleman to protect my honour.'

I pushed at David's chest with a frown on my face.

'More drink. That should get her tongue wagging.'

I waved a finger at Cyril as David eased himself up. I fell back against the sofa legs splayed and pretended to clumsily push hair out of my eyes.

'You're as bad as he is.'

'I'm afraid that's correct.'

He didn't look like he was sorry about it.

'The boys of the old eighty-fifth do have a bit of a reputation. Got to keep up the traditions of the regiment don't-cha know.'

Cyril was braying again as David returned and gave me a brimming glass. He mouthed a

thank you

to me as he handed it over with the faintest shake of his head. I took a mouthful and squirmed as I swallowed.

'This really isn't fair. You just invited me over for a swim, then get me drunk. Now you want me to tell you all my secrets. I'd never have guessed you had this side to you.'

I snuggled up against David as he sat down again, a move which elicited guttural encouragement from Cyril. Both men raised their glasses and nodded to me to do the same.

'Cheers.'

'I suppose so.'

I pouted after draining my glass and gurning. I dragged the back of my hand across my mouth for further emphasis. The pair of them just waited for me to speak. I shook my mane out again and closed my eyes.

'Well, there's not much to tell really. I was just doing a bit of modelling for a friend. There, I've told you. Now can I go for my swim?'

David gripped my arm as I made to rise.

'Not quite so fast, if you don't mind. What kind of modelling might this have been exactly?'

'Clothes?'

I let out loud laugh but stifled it quickly and blew Cyril a kiss.

'Now there is a man who knows how to compliment a lady. Thank you, Cyril. But no, with these puppies I'd never fit in to the sort of dresses that make the fashion pages.'

To say they were surprised when I pulled the jumper up over my breasts and shook them vigorously would be an understatement. I let the folds of soft wool rest on top of them while I raised both arms and struck a pose for a few seconds.

'We've got a live one here, Davy old chap.'

I let my arms fall and wriggled myself once more beneath the folds of the jumper.

'It was what you might call glamour photographs, I suppose. This chap gave me a card while I was in town one day and asked if I would call him. I was flattered. He said I had a lovely figure and would love to take some artistic studies of me.'

I covered my face with my hands, just parting my fingers slightly so that I could judge Cyril's reaction to my 'confession'. He was opening and closing his mouth like a fish and looking from me to David and then back again. I had to stifle a giggle. David snorted, but whether that was at Cyril's expression or the yarn I was spinning, I couldn't really tell.

'You mean pornography?'

'No. Absolutely not. I wouldn't do anything like that.'

David slipped an arm around my shoulder and squeezed as if to comfort my shock at the suggestion.

'Of course you wouldn't. I'm surprised the thought even occurred to you, Cyril.'

'My apologies, dear lady. I was just seeking a little clarity. It's not the sort of world I'm familiar with.'

I raised my head and let my pout fade as I looked at them.

'Apology accepted, Cyril. I suppose it was a natural assumption to make. Is anyone else feeling thirsty still?'

I reached out and picked up my empty glass and there was silence in the room until David came back with another sherry for himself and fresh ice for Cyril. The two men sipped their drinks and then settled themselves comfortably and waited for me to continue.

'It took me a few days to make the call. When I did, Gerald - Gerry - was charm itself. We discussed a fee, quite a generous one actually, and he told me the sort of shots he was thinking of taking.'

I took a sip of water. There didn't seem a lot of point in more theatrics at this stage.

'He asked my to bring in some lingerie and a couple of my own swimsuits. David knows the kind I like to wear.'

David spluttered, busied himself finishing his sherry and rushing to pour himself another while Cyril watched with bleary jealously.

'Gerry said he was working on a series of pin-ups. You know the kind of thing. I'm sure you two have looked at more than a few in your time.'

'I remember that floozy you used to have over your bunk in barracks.'

'Annabelle was not a floozy.'

Cyril got the sentence out with difficulty. I glanced at the gin bottle; it was nearly empty.

'She went with me all over the world. Only retired her when the colonel insisted it was not appropriate when more women started to serve. Cracking girl, wonderful body.'

He looked over at me again. This time there was no doubt that he was imagining me naked. I helped his fantasy along by stretching the jumper down over my boobs as I pushed them out and then straightened the line of my panties inside my slacks. Cyril was still staring when I caught his eye and winked at him.

'I was nervous as a kitten when I got there. The studio is in one of those old office buildings in the city centre. I almost didn't go in.'

'It must have been daunting.'

'Thank you Cyril.'

I rewarded him with a blown kiss and watched him simper.

'Not the same as going over the top, of course, or whatever it is you soldiers do these days. But I had to steel myself to go in through the doors and up the dimly lit stairs to the studio.'

'And was it a seedy dive when you got there?'

I glanced at David. He seemed to be genuinely buying in to my story. I couldn't help but grin.

'Not at all. It was brightly lit. They even had a couple of sets; what was supposed to be a beach scene and a fantasy boudoir - all pink silks and chiffon.'

'Sounds tacky.'

'It was. But when you saw the pictures it somehow fitted.'

'And the photographer bloke: Gerry. What was he like?'

'As nice as he was on the phone. Older, but you know how much I enjoy the company of mature men.'

I dropped my hand onto David's thigh and stroked it firmly. His own hand went to his tie as it always did when things started to get a little passionate. I closed my eyes to enjoy a brief moment with the muffled messages I was beginning to get from somewhere deep in my abdomen. Cyril coughed and broke the spell.

'Sorry Cyril. I'm enjoying your company too.'