Rebecca was excited. Today was going to be one of her special days. She'd been building up to it or a couple of weeks now, and no matter how she struggled against her perverted desires no matter how much she tried to suppress the depravity of her craving, Rebecca knew that eventually she would weaken and give in. Her sexual urges appalled her in the immediate aftermath of one of her soirees and Rebecca would analyse her actions constantly in the days that followed, but inevitably that analysis would leave Rebecca in a fugue of self loathing and disgust at her own conduct.
At those times Rebecca would promise herself that she would change; that she'd resist, that she'd be strong; she swore that this time, this time it would be different. Then, as the days and weeks passed the itch between her legs would begin again, almost imperceptibly at first, but growing more insistent the longer Rebecca tried to ignore it, and the woman knew it was only a matter of time before she degraded herself again.
Finally, when she could no longer ignore the feelings that seemed to centre on her inflamed vulva, but which affected her breasts, nipples, clitoris, and even it seemed, could make her very skin tingle with heightened sensitivity, Rebecca would use her fingers against the hot, molten centre of her sex. She would climax and the insistent urge would simmer along for a day or two, never dying out completely, but bubbling just beneath the surface of Rebecca's consciousness like a smouldering volcano.
Over the subsequent days the urges would return, and of course this time they would be more demanding, more urgent, and much more difficult to suppress. At times like those every moment of Rebecca's day was disturbed by a constant craving for sexual satisfaction. Rebecca would be forced to leave whatever she was doing and would often arrive home in a near hysterical state only to masturbate furiously as soon as the front door had slammed shut behind her. She would frantically pull her underwear to one side and rub at her stiff clit as she stood inside the vestibule of her home with her back up against the front door. Such was the urgency she felt that she couldn't even wait to get fully inside. She simply had to attempt to satisfy the ravenous beast of her sexual urges, and would use the fingers of one hand against her clit and the fingers of the other to massage the soft, spongy inner walls of her vagina. Her legs would buckle and bow as the lust overcame her senses, and Rebecca had, on more than one occasion found herself lying in an inelegant heap on the floor, wide legged and panting, her fingers smeared with the gooey juice of her sex.
After a time, when she could no longer cope with her body's demands for satisfaction, Rebecca would eventually succumb, and then she would use the key that was the only way out of the self imposed prison in which she had locked herself.
Bizarrely, it wasn't physical sexual intimacy that set Rebecca free. It was the act of exhibiting herself publicly and so degradingly that ultimately led to her finding sexual gratification. As the years had passed Rebecca had become somewhat jaded, and mere flashing no longer satisfied the lusts that boiled inside her as it had once done. Initially, many years ago when Rebecca's twisted sexual longing had become manifest, she had found release after flashing at men around town, but now she had developed more... sordid tastes, more depraved methods of reaching the pinnacle of her self indulgence.
'Set it up, Geoffrey,' Rebecca said simply when her call was answered.
'Ah, Rebecca, how delightful to hear from you... Excellent.' The oily tone of Geoffrey's voice caused a shiver of revulsion to ripple along Rebecca's flesh.
Rebecca loathed the man who used the term 'agent' to describe their relationship. In her mind he was a pimp, plain and simple, a disgusting creature with a cold reptilian stare, which always seemed to Rebecca as though all he saw was meat when he looked at her. She firmly believed he didn't see her as a person, but merely as a commodity to be used and ultimately discarded once she'd served her purpose. Rebecca knew that she was nowhere near her sell by date, and as such was of value to Geoffrey. Rebecca hated having to deal with the slimeball, but she had made her pact with the Devil and would have to live with the consequences.
'Yes, Geoffrey,' Rebecca replied frostily, which elicited a laugh from the other end of the phone. Geoffrey knew that Rebecca hated him and it was true, he didn't care. The woman was an asset to him, he knew he would make a tidy little profit out of her perverted desires, she did have that quality - the X Factor of immeasurable sexuality that sent otherwise sane men mad with the wanting of her.
'How many?' Geoffrey asked.
'A small group, please,' Rebecca replied and then paused. 'Five... Yes, five,' she continued.'
'Easily done, my dear,' Geoffrey responded. 'Anything... uhm... anything extra that you require?' he added.
There was a long pause as Rebecca considered her requirements. Her body responded suddenly to the thought of what she was contemplating and she felt her nipples harden in a simultaneous reaction with her clitoris. A trickle of her oil dribbled into the gusset of her underwear and Rebecca felt the clench of her inner muscles as her sex contracted with anticipation.
'Make them diverse,' Rebecca spoke huskily. 'I want manners and I want rough.' Her body was influencing her brain, and Rebecca was being driven by the heat and insistent throb between her legs. 'Oh God,' she sighed, eager to be finished with the phone so she could masturbate. 'I want come and I want piss,' she finished breathlessly and pushed a hand down under the waistband of her underwear.
'You absolutely filthy bitch,' Geoffrey whispered. He was aroused by the image of a naked Rebecca surrounded by hard cocks, and having those cocks covering her body in both spunk and urine.
'Tell me the time and the venue,' Rebecca said as she ignored Geoffrey's comment. 'And make it soon, Geoffrey, please, make it very soon.'
Rebecca hung up, confident that Geoffrey would arrange everything. He had never let her down to date and despite her personal feelings for the man, Rebecca knew that Geoffrey was a consummate professional and would ensure that every detail would be considered.
Rebecca sat back in her chair and hooked her legs over the arms. She pulled the sodden gusset of her panties to one side and languidly ran her finger through the sticky folds of her labia. She hissed and winced when her finger brushed against her clit, and Rebecca then began to fantasise about her approaching assignation.