I'm Sabrina, or Sabby to my closest friends.
I'd had a rough upbringing from an early age. My father's name wasn't even on my birth certificate, my mother was constantly in and out of prison, meaning baby me was taken into care. An assortment of foster homes came and went, most not being able to control my temper tantrums. Eventually, at the age of around ten, I went to live with and was eventually adopted by the Jordans.
Mrs Jane Jordan was a very caring understanding woman, very mature for her twenty-eight years. She took time out to listen to me properly, always trying to see my way of thinking, rather than argue that I was wrong which beforehand was what set me off.
Mr Ian Jordan was older, forty years old in fact, but with the same calm understanding nature. He also knew when to leave me be to calm down, so we could talk rationally. He did however usually leave his wife to do the talking. They both went a very long way to calming me too, making me see that sometimes not to be too quick to judge others actions, that sometimes they wanted the best for me too.
When I was sixteen I asked Jane how they'd met, with him being much older than her. She told me that when she was eighteen he was in a pub one night, her eyes locked onto his and she was smitten. He bought her drinks all night, took her home in a taxi which her friends told her not to do, then dropped her off, making sure she had gone into the house before the taxi drove him away. She blushed, and said that most men wanted to get their hand down your knickers as soon as they could, he'd been so different, possibly because he was older.
They'd phoned each other every night for a month before meeting again, Jane already knew she'd fell in love with him. They married six months later. Jane found out within a year that she couldn't have children of her own, Ian told her that they'd just look at fostering or adopting instead.
Now nineteen, I still had a rebellious side. I had no job, and I went out with friends and got blind drunk at a club at least once a week, knowing my foster parents wouldn't shout at me, despite their money paying for it. I'd had a couple of minor scrapes with the law, one being for assault when a local lad wouldn't take no for an answer when he wanted to touch one of my friend's tits.
He lunged at her, so I kicked him squarely between the legs. He deserved it, but probably not enough that one of his testicles was pushed up towards his stomach and he had to have surgery to jiggle everything back into its correct place. Me laughing loudly while he writhed on the floor didn't help matters either.
One of the club appearances was where I met Danny. Danny was tall, about six feet five inches, well built, and fifty years old and not the thirty-five years I'd guessed him to be. He was wearing a very expensive-looking suit, saw me staring, liked what he saw too, and asked if my friends and I would like a round of drinks. I told him yeah, and pushing the boat out and testing him told him we wanted champagne. A few minutes later five bottles, one for each of us, of the clubs most expensive champagne was bought to the table where we were sat. He simply smiled and turned at the bar to sip on his own drink.
My friends all egged me on. They knew what I was like. It was my 'thing', like a dare, that I'd tell guys if they bought us drinks I'd give them a blowjob around the back of the club later. Most laughed and didn't believe it, until later when I'd dragged them into the toilet cubicle and had their cocks down my throat. Not every guy got that treatment, they had to be reasonably good looking at least.
"I don't think a blowjob will do with this one, think I'm going to have to give him the ride of his life," I told them, giggling.
"It will be worth it Sabby, this champagne is going down a treat," one of my friends answered.
I sauntered over to the bar to him. We introduced ourselves, I thanked him for the champagne and asked if he wanted to go somewhere quieter. He politely declined, told me he'd enjoyed watching us dancing though, especially me in my tight dress. My 36D tits and round arse will have helped with that.
He called over the barman, handed him £200 and told him it was for drinks for me and my friends for the rest of the evening, pointing towards our table.
"I have an early business meeting tomorrow so am leaving now. I'll be back in here in two weeks, but If you want to call me before then here's my number," he said, handing me a business card and kissing me on the cheek.
"£200 behind the bar? Fucking hell Sabby, you're going to have to marry him!" my friends laughed.
I phoned him the next day. He bluntly asked me if I'd fucked anyone else last night. I told him, no, and it was none of his business. He replied that I didn't know what his business was. Despite that start, we ended up chatting for nearly two hours. He was very sweet, letting me do a lot of the talking. He did tell me he wasn't married, had virtually been married to his job, at a business he'd recently sold for a lot of money. Now he was retired, and looking for someone to spend his money on.
I told him that he could certainly spend some of his money on me, and he said he'd consider it, but there'd be certain obligations. I told him I had no problem with fucking him if that's what he meant, and he laughed. He asked me to meet him three days later, and he'd pay me £500 for the day. I quickly agreed.
I told Jane about him later, her listening while I gushed on about him, without mentioning he was going to pay me to meet him. I expected her to be cross, but she smiled and said she saw a lot of herself in me, the same way she'd gushed about Ian too.
Danny came to pick me up at around midday, the sound of his sports car engine revving alerting the whole street. I'd felt a little underdressed in my skirt and t-shirt combo, but Danny laughed and said we were going shopping for a cocktail dress for the weekend. He asked if Jane and Ian would have any issue with me staying over on Saturday, I told him, no but they wouldn't argue with me anyway.
The boutique we went to was one I'd never have gone in myself. Looking around, checking out the prices, my mouth was open most of the time gasping. The sales assistants were nudging each other while pointing at me until Danny coughed loudly and told them that the lady would try both of these dresses on. They couldn't move quick enough despite him referring to me.
Both of the dresses were black, the first one a tight number with a see-through neckline and arms. Its fit showed off my curves, and Danny whistled. He told me to try on the second anyway. This one had thin shoulder straps and a plunging neckline emphasising my cleavage, and long at the back of my legs with the front cut out most of the way up my thighs. I stepped out to a collective wow from both Danny and the assistants. Danny surprised me by saying he'd buy both.
He asked one of the assistants if black stockings would look better, and picked out some black high heels too. I tried on some fishnet stockings and he was right, they complimented each other perfectly.
We left with our purchases, and getting into the car he told me he knew somewhere else they could go, to buy lingerie for underneath it. I was getting turned on, and stopping at some traffic lights I took his hand and slid it between my legs, showing him I'd left off my knickers when getting changed back. He smiled but as the lights changed he removed his hand but pulled my skirt right up.
"Leave it like that until we get there," he told me.
I reached over and unzipped him, sliding my hand into his trousers. My hand found him, still soft but long. Oh boy, my thoughts about Danny went up another level. I wanted to fuck him there and then, Saturday wasn't soon enough.
It wasn't so much a lingerie shop that we went to, it was more like an adult store. Not just lingerie, but shelves full of DVDs and sex toys too. He went to one of the assistants and showed her the dress, saying I needed something to wear underneath it that wouldn't show. She smiled, took the dress and my hand, and shouted to one of the other assistants she was going to the fitting rooms.
She walked me around the aisles, picking out various items of lingerie, all in black that Danny had specified they had to be. She watched me undress, not that it bothered me anyway, but she did not attempt to move or close the curtain around me. She complimented my tits when I removed my bra, and when I tried on a peephole bra tweaked at my nipples until they were fully erect.
"That looks great on you, but your nipples are big and it will spoil the look of the dress," she told me, "but you could try these instead."
