Pleasure in Control

Julia lands a dream job with a top fashion lingerie house that leads her into a life of beautiful women and daring sexual exploits. In this autobiographical story, Julia explores her sexuality and her body as well as her new contacts. Gradually she pushed the boundaries of her experiences and enters a secret world of lesbian passion, sex and more. This is only as fictional as you want it to be but you will not recognise any of the names. Act out parts of my life if you wish, but be kind, stay safe and stay legal.

This is a full-length novel and this is Chapter 6 of 17. You will enjoy this much more if you have read the preceding chapters first.

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I slid the key into the lock and turned it. The door swung open and I stood for a moment, absorbing the excitement of the first apartment I could truly call my own. Kirsten pushed me from behind. "Go on then, go in" she insisted, with an excited girly giggle.

The front door opened into an inner lobby, off which there were only two other doors. One was just a storage cupboard but the other opened into the main room of the apartment. "Wow ... Wow ... W-fucking-OW" I exclaimed as I saw that the main room is huge and furnished in an ultra-modern Japanese-cum-minimalist style. On the right is a large peninsula behind which I found a small but very well equipped kitchen. The main area of the room is carpeted in light grey and the furniture is all in black and darker shades of grey. Looking around I could see a long, low sofa, two matching chairs and several cubes that looked like coffee tables or could be moved together to make a larger surface. There was no table to eat at but I guessed I could manage with the kitchen bar, which has 3 stools around it. I didn't plan to do a lot of entertaining 'at home'.

Kirsten and I wandered around. The separate bedroom is divided from the main room by a very Japanese-looking open-grid screen with linen blinds behind for privacy. The room it conceals is surprisingly large and contains only a continuous wall of fitted wardrobes with floor-to-ceiling mirrors and a very low, wide bed so there is plenty of room to walk around. Finally we found the sumptuous bathroom, which opens off the bedroom. It is also entirely fitted out in grey, black and white with a large bathtub (which later I discovered includes a spa system) and a wash-hand basin set into a large marble surface. The shower is mounted directly over the middle of the slightly-sloping floor. Loads of room to move around under the shower then!

"It's just wonderful," I repeated to Kirsten as I explored further "and the firm pays for everything?" "They do for me so I'm sure they will for Julie, their rising star. Come on; let's start to get your stuff unpacked.

"I didn't tell you, did I? I met Terri, your maid, on Thursday," I called to Kirsten as she busied herself putting food, wine and beer in the fridge. "I've taken her on and she is coming in this afternoon to make up the bed and freshen up the place."

"You lucky girl! Terri is terrific. She does a good, conscientious job and she's a lot of fun to have around. She told me she wasn't taking on any more work – she must like you. I'm sure you'll be pleased with her. But how can she make the bed, you don't have any linen."

"I thought we could shop together this morning. You can help me choose. Can we risk going to your store? You won't be recognised will you? "

Kirsten and I bought sheets & pillowcases in the most exotic satins and feminine colours, towels and bits and pieces for the kitchen. We talked animatedly over lunch and stuffed our purchases into the boot of a cab back to my new home.

"Kirsten, I'm going to miss having you around," I said pensively as I unlocked my front door.

"Julie, sweetie, we can see more of each other, even though you have your own place." I looked her in the eye and replied: "Kirsten, there isn't any more of me to see. You saw it all last night."

The doorbell rung and the tall, lithe and dramatic Terri swept in. "Hi, oh Kirsten, I didn't expect to see you here too. Julia, what a fantastic apartment. I like this. Hey, I've always wanted one of these. Look at ..."

"Hold on Terri, whose apartment is this?" I quipped. "Sorry. I'll get on with my chores."

Kirsten took me to one side. "Keep an eye on Terri, she's so gregarious. Before you know it you'll find her wearing your clothes and sleeping in your bed. But she is great company, and very pretty too."

Terri finished and I paid her two weeks in advance in cash. We agreed she would come in every Saturday afternoon and on most Tuesday evenings, unless she had college commitments. She would organise all my laundry and dry-cleaning too. Fantastic. I thanked her and she left.

Kirsten also needed to go. Disappointed, I reminded her "I'm travelling to the north and Scotland on Monday. I won't see you until Wednesday evening."

"Can't do Wednesday either, but I'll be at the product launch at the Mayfair office on Thursday – I'll see you there. Bye, love"

We blew each other trademark kisses and I closed the door behind her.

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I settled into my business-class seat on the Monday morning flight to the north of England, striking up a polite conversation with the man next to me. He probably thought I was chatting him up. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

He would never know what I was wearing under my serious suit. Who would have thought that an unattached self-employed recruitment executive on a business trip would be wearing a lemon-yellow bra with matching lacy panties?

Why should she?

How could he also have known that I had a matching suspender belt holding up sheer stockings under my sensible skirt?

But if she knew she was going to spend half her day getting undressed in front of young and very attentive sales professionals in high-class clothing stores she might.

I took a cab from the airport straight to my city-centre hotel so I could drop my overnight bag. The reception desk staffs were polite and charming and they were able to give me an upgrade to a larger room with a balcony and additional facilities. I presented my Passionella credit card, which they accepted; the Lips logo caused a slight smile to rise at the corners of the receptionist's mouth.

Taking the lift to the top floor, I found my room at the end of a short corridor well away from the noise of the ice-making machine and with less chance of noise from other guests returning late and standing talking in the corridor outside my room. That does annoy me so!

I dropped my bag on the bed and hung my clothes. Looking quickly in the bathroom I saw it was enormous, subtly-lit and had a huge bathtub as well as two washbasins, a walk-in shower, a bidet and a big basket full of all those lovely skin-care products. 'I'll enjoy those later', I thought. There was also a wide-screen TV with heaps of satellite channels and pay-movies, the sort that I assume are only watched by sad, lonely men.

The doorman called a cab for me and I headed for the first of 'our' two existing retail outlets in Manchester city centre. I found the lingerie dept. easily but took some time to locate the Passionella display – it was not well signed but I recognised the products. Rustling through the rails, I identified the usual popular lines from my in-depth training with Charlotte but many were mixed and I could not see anything I liked. Finally, a Dem walked up behind me and tried to sell product without asking my requirements and interests and gave me no opportunity to present my Passionella card. If this is Mystery Shopping, my job is going to be easy. Mandy (from her badge, she never did introduce herself) then suggested I try on some items and badly guessed my size at two cups too small and 2 inches too large (my Passionella card would have told her). Mandy ushered me into the changing rooms, and left me. "Shout if you need any help" was all I got. Terrible.

The morning had not been a good experience. I grabbed a quick lunch in a cappuccino bar nearby and typed furiously typed my report into my palm-top so as not to forget anything. I downloaded a map showing the location of the other store and finished my sandwich.

Walking into the lingerie dept. was a revelation and the contrast with the morning's store was striking. The Passionella brand was clearly displayed near to the lifts and the clothing was well displayed. Two staff wearing Passionella badges were talking by the till but as soon as I approached they stopped. The younger of the two introduced herself as Vicky (spelt Vikki on her badge) and immediately enquired about my needs and also how I would be paying. I gave her my card and she proceeded to gush information, and compliments. Almost before I knew it, I was locked in the changing rooms with Vikki and armfuls of underwear and nightwear. I had to smile.

Then, to my great amusement and surprise, Vikki stripped to her panties before me in about 20 seconds. "Let me help you undress" she insisted and reached for my buttons.

I stepped back to slow the pace, but also to get a better look at an exuberant Vikki. She could only be described as 'small but perfectly formed', about 5' 2" tall and no more than 21 years old, and had tousled brown hair. Her waist was so very slim, about 22 inches, her tummy very flat and smooth and her hips were narrow.

Her boobs looked exquisite; small and slightly rounded, set high, high on her chest. Wow. Her nipples cried out to be noticed, perched right on the tips of her boobs, pointing slightly upwards and sitting exactly central on small, raised pinky-brown areolae. Surely they couldn't always look so perky and suckable? I was captivated by the way she stood and moved, brimming over with self-confidence, and I tried not to stare at her breasts.

"Why don't you try this on?" she suggested, holding up a riot of lace and straps. "It's terrific. It looks like a bodysuit from the front but it's a skimpy and strappy bra and thong from the back." It sounded fun so I agreed to let her help me undress.

The already-nearly-naked Vikki quickly unbuttoned my jacket and I slipped my top over my head. Vikki kept talking all the time – she was making me tired! – and complimented me on my yellow Passionella lingerie. Stepping out of my skirt, I turned my back to her and without prompting she unhooked my bra. Her positive attitude excited me.

I turned back to face Vikki who looked down at me and sighed: "I always wanted big boobs like yours, but mine never grew."

"Vikki, yours are beautiful" I reassured her, "Just be grateful for what you've got."

We released one stocking-top each and Vikki slipped the catch on my suspender whilst I pulled down my briefs. I was now totally nude.

Vikki offered up the bodysuit and I stepped into it. She was right. Looking at myself in the mirror, my lower body appeared to be totally sheathed in pretty black lace. The crotch was cut high and narrow and my pubes peeked cheekily from either side. Moving up, the fabric followed the narrowing of my waist and the top was underwired and cut in a deep vee, pushing my rounded boobs high and together and forming them into as deep and seductive a cleavage as any bra I'd owned. I felt proud of my body and hoped Vikki was not too jealous.

"Can you see your back view in the other mirror now?" she enquired. I held up my long blonde curls to see better, and I was amazed. The top of the suit consisted of just two narrow black straps that held the bra-top place. Then nothing right down my bare back all the way to the bottom of my spine where two more narrow straps wrapped their slender way around from the sides of my waist and over my hips to connect at a tiny triangle of lace, with a just single thong strap between my legs. Very revealing. "The Passionella designers have done a great job – they know how to make a girl feel special," observed Vikki. They had, and I did, especially between my legs.

Vikki offered to model some other clothes but I declined; she might get herself into trouble. I decided to buy the body suit. "May I keep it on?" I asked.

I headed for the coffee shop to make some notes. 'Vikki has such a big personality but she is too enthusiastic. Needs reigning in a bit, but has great potential,' I typed. 'Where did she come from?' I wondered. 'I hope she's at the show'. When I got back to my hotel room I downloads my notes into my laptop and filed my day's reports to Emma. The rest of the evening was now my own.

I'd noticed that my new bodysuit was beginning to get uncomfortable so I undressed, stopping to admire myself in the mirror. Uncomfortable, yes, but very, very sexy. I posed a little more then reached around behind me to release the bra-catch. To do this, I had to push my shoulders back; my boobs all but escaped from their cups and my nipples pushed hard against the fabric. The combination of the uninvited nipple stimulation and the crotch pulling tight between my legs sent tiny messages to my pussy that I chose to ignore.

I hate eating out alone so I ordered room service dinner – just a light pasta dish and a cold beer. "With you in 30 minutes, or it's free" was the promise.

I ran a deep, hot bath and luxuriated in the foam. I mulled over the events and justified my feeling of self-satisfaction; a good day's work. After drying myself carefully with the snow-white fluffy towels, I explored the basket of toiletries. First I shaved my legs and underarms with the ladies razor provided, then I rubbed soothing body lotion onto my hands, arms, legs and feet. A dab of cologne in all the strategic places, a clean-up with a couple of cotton buds and I was good as new.

I remembered that my pubes had shown around the sides of my latest bodysuit, so I pulled scissors from my washbag and trimmed around the edges. Is that enough? One way to find out. I slipped the suit back on and tried unsuccessfully to trim the ones that still poked out.

I'd never shaved my bikini line before, but I decided to give it a try. I removed the suit again (my nipples enjoying the feeling even more this time) and pulled the razor over the areas either side of my mound, but leaving a generous vee of neatly-trimmed blonde curls concealing my gash. I rubbed some more lotion over the tender, sensitive and newly-exposed soft flesh between my thighs.

I admired myself in the mirror – I liked what I saw and the sight of my own body made me feel tense and excited. Proud breasts, smooth skin, flat tummy above curvaceous hips (but not too broad). Well-defined legs and now with a neat and attractively-trimmed pubic area nestling between them.

I thought some aromatherapy oil might help me to relax so I opened the small bottle from the bathroom and smoothed some over my neck and shoulders, down over my firm, round breasts and downwards to my upper legs and bum cheeks. Then some more on my thighs, down the outsides then up the insides. Mmmmmm ...

My skin glistened under the recessed ceiling lights, smooth and radiant. Turning sideways on, my nipples were now erect but not really hard ... until I rubbed some more oil into them. I rubbed the tips of my fingers all around my areolae and over by buds, making them long and hard. I squeezed them; warm, inviting sensations spread to my pussy and little by little I wanted to ...

Feeling dreamy, I began to think about Vikki and I lay back on the bed. I massaged my sensitive skin some more then, pulling up my knees, I planted my feet on the edge of the bed and spread my legs. With my head propped up on a pile of feather pillows, I could look down between my thighs and see myself in the mirror. My pussy was beginning to open like petals of a flower and small beads of moisture sparkled under the bright, warm lights, clinging to the edges of my labial lips.

I tipped the rest of the contents of the bottle over my legs and I wallowed in the fantastic sensations as small rivulets of oil trickled down my inner thighs and between my cheeks. As the oil ran slowly and excruciatingly further down the soft fleshy insides of my legs, right to my anus, my sphincter muscles twitched and puckered tight. And I was trying to relax!

I ran the tip of one finger around the rim and gradually my muscles loosened and I could breath again. The feelings were so good; I wondered whether I might just be able to slip a well-lubricated fingertip just inside ...

I was suddenly startled by the knock at the door.

"Room Service."

Shit!

I'd forgotten all about dinner. In a fluster, I called 'Coming!' but the delivery boy must have misunderstood and thought I'd said 'Come in.' Horrified, I heard the door began to open and I realised that I had not flicked the dead-bolt.

I grabbed a bathrobe from the bathroom and quickly wrapped myself in its voluminous modesty.

As the door opened, I was greeted by a friendly female smile. "Come in, oh, yes, over there, thanks," I gushed, "Here, here's something for you."

How attentive and perceptive, that the hotel should remember to send a female room-service 'boy' to the room of a single female guest. Actually, a very young, but very pretty female, in a smart uniform. She must have wondered what she had interrupted, as her senses would have been assaulted by the heady mix of lotions and oils, the pile of soft pillows abandoned on the bed, and the sight of an flustered and embarrassed woman clutching a robe around herself (I hadn't had time to tie the belt). Miss Young-But-Pretty looked around the room, probably expecting to see a male companion – 'No Chance!' I thought.

Then, as she was leaving, I (absent-mindedly?) used one hand to pass her a gratuity, and the other to open the door. To my horror, my robe fell open. She stared at me; she must have seen one if not two long bare legs, and maybe more. I felt so humiliated! What if she complained to her manageress? What did she take me for? Why did I feel the way I felt?

I closed the door behind her, uttering lame apologies, and tied the belt tightly around my waist as I caught my breath. Then, in a fleeting, mad moment, I thought of shrugging off my robe completely and calling her back. Just to see what her reaction might be when she saw me naked. Or was it, maybe, because the feeling of intense embarrassment & humiliation might actually hold some attraction for me? But I quickly banished the thought from my mind. Probably just as well. Hmm ...

Regaining my composure, I sat down at the desk and realised how hungry I was.

When I'd wiped every last drop of sauce from the plate with my last piece of ciabatta bread, I flicked on the TV. No news on yet. No interesting sport. Old films I'd seen before. Discussion programmes where no-one has an interesting viewpoint or a well-considered argument. I scrolled down to the pay-movies menu:

More old films, and porn. 'Busty Barbara On Top', 'Don't Tell My Wife', 'Deep Down & Dirty'. Who watches this stuff?

'Dream Lesbians/Sheer Luxury' - Double Bill.

I keyed in my room number and sat back, thinking: 'It won't be any good, but there's noting else to watch'.

Well, the 'actresses' were quite pretty, and the acting was passable. Not much plot though. I can undress better than that, and my body is better too. One of the girls has dark hair and is down on all fours, furiously licking a ginger girl's pussy whilst frigging herself off. Their blonde friend is sitting behind them on a chair, also masturbating and moaning convincingly.

I'm not enjoying this; I just want to see what they might do next.

The blonde girl produces a long, slim vibrator from under a cushion and starts to lick it (I noticed that it was similar to the one I found in Kirsten's apartment). When it is thoroughly moistened, she rubs it back and forth along the length of her slit. She's bucking her hips now, and the two other girls stop to encourage her. They drool "Mmm, go on, stick it inside you. That's it, push it up your cunt, you horny bitch.' When the blonde girl pulls it out it's coated with her juices; she slowly slides it back in. The Dark Girl then takes the vibrator and holds it so the tip only just brushes her 'friend's clit. Blonde cries and writhes and wriggles her hips, trying to get more pressure on her clit but every time she moves onto the vibrator, Dark Girl teases her and it moves away. Blonde is really desperate now and pleads with her friend to let her come. Finally she does, fairly convincingly, closely followed by the Dark Girl whose been getting a thorough licking from her ginger friend.