I made sure I arrived right on time for my business appointment. My clients value their time and so do I. A taxi took me through a maze of London back streets, dingy in the December gloom, to a smart looking hotel. As I crossed the foyer to reception, as always every man's eyes were on me exploring me from my high heels, up my sheer black nylon clad legs and over what my coat revealed of my body, up to my styled blonde hair. But I'm used to that! A girl from reception led me through passages to a door and there Clive met me.
"Patricia!" Clive greeted me with his usual grin. "Always a pleasure to see you."
Clive's one of my regular clients. He'd arranged this meeting.
"The pleasure's all mine." I replied, returning his smile. Clive ushered me in.
It was an ornate dining room with wood panelled walls and lit by a huge chandelier. Heavy tapestry curtains shut off its big bay windows from the outside gloom, and from prying eyes. In the middle of the room was a big polished oak topped dining table more than big enough for the seven men, Clive's work colleagues, sitting round it. I guess their ages ranged from thirty, my age, through Clive's mid forties, to about sixty. Their eyes were on me the moment I stepped through the door.
Clive had told me they would just have finished their team Christmas lunch by the time I arrived. I've got a figure to keep in shape so even if they'd invited to me for lunch I wouldn't have joined them. Clive introduced me.
"Gentlemen, may I introduce Patricia."
I'd wondered how well Clive had briefed his colleagues in advance of our meeting. I needn't have worried. There on the big monitor screen on the wall was the home page of my website.
"Lady Patricia" it read and beneath the title was this week's picture of me. I was in a long black evening dress with my boobs all but oozing out of its low cleavage held closed by a little bow begging a man to undo it, and high slit with most of my bare leg stretched out from my high heeled sandal to miles up my bare thigh. Below my picture it read:
"High class sensuous massage and private modelling. Relax with me and let my expert fingers relieve those stiff muscles. Your place or mine." Below that was the icon reading "Enter - if you dare!" The looks on the men's faces told me straight away that they'd dared!
Clive's a perfect gentleman with a lady. He took my coat. Underneath I was well dressed for business. A crisp white blouse, thin enough to show the shadow of my black bra and low cut between my boobs, clung to my curves. With this I wore a light grey business skirt ending modestly just on my knees but not so modest where it was tight over my bottom. Like in the foyer I felt my clothes and underwear evaporate
"Hi boys!" I said, flashing my smile at them and swinging my hips and boobs as I strode toward them. "Did you enjoy your Christmas lunch? Well, the main course has just arrived!"
I didn't bother with small talk. I knew exactly what they were expecting and I got on with business. I slowly circled the table so they could get a good look at me and so I could size them up. Clive's the randiest guy I know, and his colleagues round the table looked at least as lecherous as him. I swung close to the most lustful looking of them, brushing my boobs against their faces and my thighs against their hands, an appetiser for what was to come.
"Enjoying the eye candy, boys?" I asked. "Do you enjoy it when the girls in the office do this?"
I bent over the table between a couple of them and spread my legs as far as my skirt would allow. I felt my skirt tighten over my bottom making the outline of my panties and the bulges of the suspender straps crossing my thighs above my stocking tops clear to anyone who was interested, and these boys certainly were interested! The eyes opposite me locked on the view down the low cut front of my blouse of my breasts nestling in the tiny cups of my black bra. I wiggled my bottom and grinned over my shoulders at the boys either side of me.
Exploring hands ran over my thighs, a hand lifted my skirt then fingers played with my suspender straps and stroked the bare thigh above my stockings. I let the hands have a brief play before I strolled on. It was time to tease the boys on the other side of the table.
"Or do you prefer this?"
I squatted down like when a woman in their office opens the bottom shelf of a filing cabinet. My knees started discretely together, but even the most modest girl can't avoid giving the boys in the office a panty peep when she does that, especially if she's in stockings. Still squatting, and arching my back a little to swing my breasts out against my blouse, I slowly swung my legs as wide apart as I could. Every eye around the table was on the full frontal upskirt I was treating them to, of stocking tops, bare thigh, suspender straps, black satin panties, the lot.
"Like seeing girls' knickers boys?" I asked rhetorically. Then after a pause, "but it's this you all want to see isn't it?" I reached down between my legs and briefly pulled aside the front of my panties. I heard low growls of lust at the sight of my gaping slit lined by my neat brown dark.
Behind them on the wall I saw someone had clicked on the "Enter" icon of my website and the screen was scrolling through my pictures. On the screen I was on all fours on a bed with my naked body contrasting with the black bed sheets, with my legs wide, my breasts hanging with my nipples just touching the sheets and my furry pussy peeping out below my bum cheeks. But the boys were much too interested in the live act to notice that.
