Claire was in the shower the first time Bianca called her to ask for help.
She heard her mobile ring through the open bathroom door just as she was shampooing her glossy red hair but left it to go to voicemail. She rinsed her hair thoroughly before working in the conditioner and moving onto her long curvaceous body, carefully soaping her sizeably-proportioned creamy-coloured red-tipped breasts, her flat toned stomach and shapely firm bottom before languorously lathering her lithe smooth thighs.
She spent perhaps a few moments longer than would be considered respectable as her long slender fingers slipped between her gently parted labia and cleaned her pouting plump pussy, sighing at the deliciously pleasurable feeling but virtuously not allowing herself to prolong the sensation.
Her phone rang again after she'd dried herself as she was slowly rubbing moisturiser into her perfect boobs, gently tweaking her petite nipples as she did so.
She strode, stark naked, into the bedroom, walking around to her side of the bed to see that her best friend Bianca was calling her.
Claire didn't have any other intimate female friends other than Bianca. She wasn't sure why she couldn't get close to other women; her boyfriend Danny's view was that other women felt threatened by Claire's stunning beauty whereas Bianca too was utterly gorgeous and could handle being in her company without needing to make any comparison.
In any case, Bianca and Claire, both in their early-twenties, got on like a house on fire, although Claire occasionally felt slightly disquieted by Bianca's insalubrious profession.
Bianca, despite a good degree from a top university, an articulate enquiring mind and a sharp business brain, made a living through a combination of glamour modelling and high-end prostitution, simply because she made stacks of money by doing so.
Claire hardly considered herself prim or prudish but she couldn't morally countenance her friend selling her body for money. It was just plain wrong.
Of course Claire herself had got into some situations where the casual bystander might have misconstrued the situation and thought that perhaps she was maybe providing pseudo-sexual favours in return for goods or services. But of course, Claire knew this was far from the actual truth. She would never either cheat on Danny nor pimp her, admittedly lovely, body for cash or in-kind benefits.
In fact she had nearly got into severe difficulty in her relationship with her boyfriend when Danny had come home inadvertently early and almost caught her deep-throating the penis of her musical agent, Frankie Fame.
Or at least that's how it might have looked to Danny. In fact Frankie had popped round to ask her to come with him to meet an A&R executive from a small record company who was interested in a song she'd recorded but really wanted to see her up close in the flesh, as it were. He'd also suggested that, as he happened to be there, he enhance her voice by lubricating her throat using a scientifically proven methodology which involved Frankie ejaculating directly over her vocal cords. Claire had readily agreed, keen to enhance her every chance of pop stardom
But of course if Danny had interrupted them, he wouldn't have realised, at least initially, that just because she was deep-throating someone's cock didn't mean she was actually having oral sex with him. And because Claire didn't feel any need to complicate matters, she'd jumped up as soon as she'd heard Danny at the door even though Frankie was midway through orgasming copiously down her throat.
She'd quickly swallowed what she could, sucked Frankie's wrinkled member clean and wiped her face with her fingers, licking off the spunk before throwing her bra and top back on as Frankie zipped himself up and arranged himself on the sofa as if without a care in the world.
When Danny had come into their living room he had appeared surprised by and perhaps a little suspicious of Frankie's presence and then angry when Claire explained to him who he was as she revealed the details of her potential single. Once Frankie had left, they'd argued because Claire had kept her embryonic singing career a secret from Danny despite that fact he was a successful DJ.
Danny had always seemed to think Claire couldn't look after herself, that she was gullible and easily manipulated by unscrupulous men only interested in access to her wonderful body. And hence he'd been ridiculously over-protective whenever she wanted to go out and make her own career.
Still, feeling more than a little guilty that her long-term boyfriend and love of her life had almost caught her with another man's penis in her mouth, Claire had reluctantly agreed to immediately end her nascent singing career.
Inside, she'd felt absolutely dejected. She'd put an awful lot of work into her singing; she'd even found herself sexually satisfying her backing band in order to pay them to record her single with her, amongst other somewhat ostensibly dubious endeavours.
But there was no way she could risk losing Danny. She'd been hopeful that perhaps, in the not-too-distant future, they might get married and even have children. It was only because Frankie was so old, fat and ugly that Danny hadn't conceived that she might have been committing an obscene impropriety. She had to be very careful to protect Danny's precious love for her.
So she had grudgingly refused to meet up with Frankie again to discuss the song. It hadn't seemed to have been going anywhere anyway so what was the point, she'd grumbled to herself cholerically.
And to allay any suspicions Danny might have possibly harboured, she had thrown herself into pleasing him, making sure he was thoroughly sexually fulfilled, taking every opportunity to suck him off unexpectedly or ride him sinuously to blissful orgasm. She'd even, after an accidental slip whilst being vigorously humped doggy-fashion, allowed him to take her up the arse, a new and delightfully pleasant experience to him, although not to her, having somehow found herself with a wide selection of men's penises violating her tiny anal rosebud over the last couple of years.
In any case it seemed to be working: Danny was as loving as ever towards her and he'd not mentioned Frankie or her song for a few days now.
Claire sighed as she picked up her phone, still a little tired from the sound rogering she'd had that morning from Danny before he'd left for work. Life had just been so complicated lately!
As soon as she answered, Bianca excited voice cut into her greeting. "Claire! Oh thank goodness I got hold of you. I'm desperate for a favour. Please please, I so need your help!"
Claire smiled. Bianca was always such a drama queen. "What is it, B?" she asked indulgently.
"Ok, well. Now, don't get cross with me until you've heard what I need but I'm due to have a threesome today with a really important client..."
"Bianca! I've told you that I can't cheat on Danny! And anyway I won't have sex for money," she interrupted, certain that Bianca was about to offer her a chance to make some money whoring.
"Wait, wait. I know you won't do a trick with me although I can't see how it's much different from the some of the things you've got up to recently. Anyway, the other girl who was due to join me has let me down and I can't find anyone else at short notice who's hot enough. This guy only accepts the best. I just need another beautiful woman to come out to dinner with us tonight and then join us in the bedroom. I swear you won't have to do anything. You can even keep your clothes on. He always gets really drunk so he won't even really remember that much so you can get away with doing virtually nothing. I'll do all the work and you get a five-hundred quid. Please, Claire," Bianca said persuasively.
In the end Claire only gave in because of Bianca's promises that she wouldn't have to have sex with the man.
"But I'm only doing it as a favour for a friend. I'm faithful to Danny and I always will be. And I won't accept any money! Friends don't do favours for cash," she affirmed assertively.
Which is how she found herself at Bianca's stylish Kensington flat that evening, making herself look as ravishing as she possibly could.
She'd chosen a tiny bright figure-hugging low-cut ruby mini-dress which she knew went beautifully with her shining auburn hair. The nails on both her elegant hands and adorable feet were painted emerald to match her sparkling green eyes. She'd chosen black floral-patterned hold-up stockings as well as a black half-cup bra and thong set which of course no-one else would see but made her feel confident and sexy. Her look was completed with patent red stilettos a delicate black shrug and a slim stylish black clutch purse.
"Oh, babe, you look absolutely stunning!" Bianca had greeted her effusively. "Good enough to eat!"
Of course Bianca looked eye-catchingly gorgeous too. She was slightly shorter than Claire but still of good height, with a lushly curvaceous body, full fat breasts and a generously rounded bottom by which men seemed hypnotised. Her smooth skin was a creamy-brown colour, her tightly-curled mid-length dark hair artfully piled onto her head in pleasingly gracefully fashion. Her amused brown eyes were wide, her nose finely shaped and her striking face was constantly set in a knowing merry expression as if she were about to laugh. She was wearing a cream crocheted dress that stopped mid-thigh and that hinted at white lacy underwear through its discreet knit. Thigh length cream high-heeled boots, a short fitted jacket and a large tan handbag finished off her outfit fetchingly.
After a few finishing touches to their makeup and a swift glass of pink fizz, the girls took a taxi to the West End, finding themselves in a the bar of a classily appointed multi-Michelin-starred restaurant.
Claire's first sentiment on meeting the client was mild repugnance. Ali was a big man, over six feet tall and very wide, a bit like a rugby prop gone to seed. His eyes were darkly saturnine, hooded but with sharp intelligence and his mouth somewhat hooked into a pensive grimace. His muddy olive skin was scarred and pock-marked, his dark hair short and wiry but, she noticed, his hands, as they cupped Bianca's flawless bottom, were huge.
Once he'd greeted Bianca he turned to Claire and hugged her to him as he kissed both of her cheeks. She could smell his sophisticated aftershave, something by Bois 1920 she thought, and felt the smoothness of his elegantly tailored navy Italian suit against her full proud breasts. Without breaking eye contact with her, he nonchalantly ordered a bottle of Cristal which they drank at their table while Claire blushed uncharacteristically at his attention.
As it turned out Ali, a successful property developer, was gracious, charming and witty. His range of conversation was urbane and profound. And his largesse, as he ordered a series of stunning wines to match the stunning food, was unbounded.
He appeared very attracted to Claire, his eyes lingering hungrily on her enormous breasts and profound cleavage and his hands freely stroking her arm or squeezing her knee under the table as he made an important or insightful point, causing her to jump tensely on several occasions. Despite this unwelcome attention, Claire played her part and smiled at him attentively as she found herself slowly warming to his charismatic persona particularly as she drank more wine.
