## Continued adventures of Vero - the wife of @jacques ##
As Vero rested her head with her seat reclined almost flat, she kicked her shoes off and stared at the seemingly glacial process of the tiny computer-generated plane on the screen in front of her, inching towards Cameroon. Closing her eyes, Vero drifted pleasantly into a dozing reverie again, the sun from the window warm on her face and neck.
Years ago, early in her career, in a hostess bar in France called Le Bien Aimé, Vero had her innocent view of the place, its clientele, and its staff very quickly replaced by the knowledge that she was working in an immoral den of the iniquity of the old-fashioned sort.
Men (and sometimes women), bought over-priced drinks, tipped the sexily-dressed hostesses and waitresses heavily, and expected to feast their eyes and hands on their bodies without reproof and engage in filthy conversation with these women without the need for innuendo or restraint.
Although never publicly advertised, of course, it was also typical for the women to make more money by adding their special brand of personal services. Although, naturally, vigorously denied by the Bar's manager, Jacqueline, it was also well understood that a percentage of this extra cash would find its way to her, as a fee for the use of the comfortable upstairs rooms and private bar areas, and the reassuring presence of several enormous security men, not to mention the fearsome Jacqueline herself if the really heavy weaponry were ever to be needed. The club was shooting, she suddenly understood, for a mix of constrained hedonism, eroticism, and mysterious possibility - the chance for the unattainable to slide within reach.
Jacqueline had paired Vero up with the more experienced Jess last night and she was to be Vero's mentor. Jess was certainly more experienced - Vero had witnessed Jess go down on a corpulent customer right in the middle of the bar just the previous night, swallowing his come as she knelt beneath the table, barely out of sight. Initially, Vero had been shocked and repelled - the whole thing was so casual. She knew, however, from what she'd seen, that it had turned Jess on, despite being so cold and transactional an affair and, she had to admit, she'd been a little wet herself at the illicit feeling of being "naughty" it aroused in her. She had, on leaving last night, decided she was going to quit and find a new job right away - she had even written the letter for Jacqueline and was all set to deliver it to her as soon as her shift was over, this was not the place, or the job, for her.
When she awoke, however, she realized for that brief period between sleeping and wakefulness, that she had been replaying the events of the night before in her slumber, which would explain, to her slight shame, why she was wet. Not having time to do anything more drawn-out and pleasurable, Vero had made herself come with two fingers - surprised at the speed of her orgasm, which began immediately on touching her slick clit. Lying back and settling her breathing as the twice-snoozed alarm blared again, she thought once more about Jess and the customer and how Jess had held his hand to her throat so that he could feel her swallow his come. She felt her cunt begin to contract faintly once more and shook her head, jumping from her bed to the shower and muttering, "Nope, got to get going," putting the intrusive thoughts behind her.
Dressing for her shift, Vero paused while selecting underwear. She had laid out her tight-fitting sheer black trousers which she loved and which showed her arse off in all its incredible glory, with which she would normally wear a thong so that no lines would be visible. After a few seconds hesitation she tossed the thong aside and selected a pair of black, lacy French knickers that rode below her hips. Without consciously admitting it to herself, Vero wanted to give the clientele something to trace with their fingers, should the usual wandering hands alight on her. Also, they made her feel sexy, and knowing she was wearing them under her trousers gave her a slight, delicious thrill.
Putting on a blouse that would, she knew, be nowhere near revealing enough as far as Jacqueline was concerned, Vero compromised by undoing two buttons, showing more of her soft, pale throat as she checked her hair and makeup in the mirror.
On the Metro Vero took note of the glances she was getting from Men - glimpsing the admiration and lust in their eyes. Usually, she shied away from such things - not wanting to know, fearing a meeting of eyes could offer some unintentional encouragement. Vero felt something in her mind changing a little, starting to flex her attitude, re-awakening that intoxicating feeling of sexual power she'd first experienced back home, yet she now realized, had lost touch with since moving to the more intimidating city.
Vero, arriving for her shift, bumped into Jess in the staff cloakroom, who grinned hello and kissed her on both cheeks. Jess was changing from her commuter jeans and trainers into a mid-thigh black skirt, expensive looking, which clung to her curves and revealed just enough of her stocking tops and suspender clips when she wanted it to, but not unless she did - it had to be a deliberate act to be erotic. Jess had explained this to Vero last night, standing with their backs to a wall, watching the room as Jess pointed out what was happening in front of her Vero's eyes as the other girls worked the room, yet had been completely hidden from her until she knew what to look for.
It was difficult for Vero to associate Jess with eroticism and mystery at that moment, however, as she could make out the smell of come on her breath when she leaned closer to her to listen.
The night began quietly, it was mid-week so the bar was half empty. This was less stressful for the bar staff but it also meant boredom and fewer tips, so everybody preferred it when it was busy. Vero, shadowing Jess still, was looking after a table of four men, the standard, central-casting middle-aged white businessmen with expensive suits, chunky gold watches, and wandering hands.
Two of the men were from out of town and were customers of the others, who were paying for everything and doing their utmost to ingratiate themselves. When Vero and Jess had been asked to join them, along with their third bottle of massively over-priced champagne, the two locals had insisted they sit with the out-of-towners, forming book-ends in the luxurious booth with the two men between them.
Jess had made sure that she was the one to step over the men's legs to reach her seat - taking her time and making certain they got a good view of her arse as she did so, bending at the waist a little to make the outline of her suspenders clear.
From the moment Vero sat, the man on her left had placed his hand on her left knee. For some minutes he just left it there, and, as Vero made no effort to remove it, started slowly stroking her leg through her trousers with a gentle rotation of his index finger.
Vero, a little uneasy but very aware of what Jacqueline had said to her about being more accommodating, and frankly even more aware of her financial situation, kept up with the conversation as much as she could (it was boring and childish by turns) and allowed the stroking to continue. She could see from the corner of her eye that the other man had his hand on Jess's leg too, and, of course, Jess was gently rubbing his crotch through his suit, where his erect cock was forming a tent. Vero glanced at Jess and was rewarded with a nod of approval and an encouraging smile - she was doing the right thing, it seemed.
The drink kept flowing - Vero was, despite the club rule, slightly ***** herself although trying to drink slowly. The man next to her had insisted she drink every toast with them and she'd not been able to refuse. Slowly but inexorably, his hand had risen to the top of her thigh, two fingers now gently rubbing her leg. He had found the hem of her knickers and was pausing now and then to trace the shape of them along her upper leg. Vero had set herself a limit - she had decided when he got to her thigh she would leave the table on some pretext, but now he was there she found she wasn't as bothered as she expected to be - after all, if she walked away now she'd have spent the last hour earning precisely no money. She surprised herself, then, when he slowly pushed his hand between her legs, using the flat of his little finger to push against her crotch - she didn't move. Vero was staring straight ahead, as was the man. Only Jess noticed what was happening and she certainly wasn't going to tell him to stop.
After a few minutes, Vero caught herself involuntarily pushing back against this stranger's hand and stopped immediately. She was horny though, she was ashamed, but she was horny. His touch had been exciting, taboo almost - she'd never been with a stranger and she never would have allowed a boyfriend to touch her like this in public, but this felt different - "It's my job," she told herself, "It's just what I do for work."
She gave a little start as he rotated his hand to try and part Vero's legs. Now she was at a turning point, and she knew it. If she complied then she was changing everything, even her view of herself, Vero opened her legs, and the hand immediately grasped her crotch, making her give a tiny little whimper which she hoped nobody heard. He rubbed with his palm, using circular motions, and now Vero was gently pushing back with her hips with no pretense. Both of them carried on as if nothing was happening, although from the way Jess was now glancing toward Vero every few seconds, she was aware.
Then came another decision. He moved his fingers to the waist of Vero's trousers, but they were too tight for his frustrated hand to push inside. There followed a few seconds where he sought the fastener frantically. Eventually, Vero slowly dropped a hand to her waist, below the table cloth, and unhooked her trousers, even raising her arse from the seat very slightly, very discretely, to allow her to roll them down her upper thighs a few inches, even though this ****** her to close her legs, restrained as they now were by the material.
The man was not content with this - she could practically feel the frustration pouring out of him. He tugged and pulled at her trousers until he managed, one-handed, to drag them to her knees, leaning under the table as if to casually scratch his leg.
Amazed at what she was doing, Vero was now able to open her legs far enough to grant the stranger full access to her wet cunt, and it was wet, very wet. Excitedly, he slid one finger and then another into her. She was sure the others would hear her breathing over the music and chatter, so she tried to keep calm, keep it together as this man rapidly finger-fucked her in a public place, Vero was able to discern a sound like wet slapping from under the table, her arse and tummy muscles rigid as she began to have trouble focusing on the man opposite her.
Vero's body was taking over. She was pushing against his fingers as much as she dared, the leather seat beneath her arse wet as her cunt juices pooled under her.
When the man felt her cunt begin to contract, squeezing hard on his fingers, he stopped moving and waited for her orgasm to build and slowly pass. She felt herself squirt a little, which only happened when she came hard. She rested her forehead on her hand with her elbow on the table, leaning forward and lowering her head as if to stretch her arched back, disguising the shudders that traveled from her thighs to her neck as she came, and came again.
Vero realized, as her senses returned and her breathing began to return to normal, that she was holding his hand against her cunt, her fingers and his covered in her cum as she clenched her thighs together, trapping their hands in place.
They still didn't look at each other, he stood, his erection large and obvious, and held his visibly wet hand out to Vero, who was adjusting her trousers under the table, "My turn," loudly and firmly, staring hungrily at her, "let's go."
As Vero took his hand and stood without hesitation, she glanced back at Jess. Roles reversed in under 24hrs, Jess was staring open-mouthed at her colleague as she left the table with the stranger.
As Vero rested her head with her seat reclined almost flat, she kicked her shoes off and stared at the seemingly glacial process of the tiny computer-generated plane on the screen in front of her, inching towards Cameroon. Closing her eyes, Vero drifted pleasantly into a dozing reverie again, the sun from the window warm on her face and neck.
Years ago, early in her career, in a hostess bar in France called Le Bien Aimé, Vero had her innocent view of the place, its clientele, and its staff very quickly replaced by the knowledge that she was working in an immoral den of the iniquity of the old-fashioned sort.
Men (and sometimes women), bought over-priced drinks, tipped the sexily-dressed hostesses and waitresses heavily, and expected to feast their eyes and hands on their bodies without reproof and engage in filthy conversation with these women without the need for innuendo or restraint.
Although never publicly advertised, of course, it was also typical for the women to make more money by adding their special brand of personal services. Although, naturally, vigorously denied by the Bar's manager, Jacqueline, it was also well understood that a percentage of this extra cash would find its way to her, as a fee for the use of the comfortable upstairs rooms and private bar areas, and the reassuring presence of several enormous security men, not to mention the fearsome Jacqueline herself if the really heavy weaponry were ever to be needed. The club was shooting, she suddenly understood, for a mix of constrained hedonism, eroticism, and mysterious possibility - the chance for the unattainable to slide within reach.
Jacqueline had paired Vero up with the more experienced Jess last night and she was to be Vero's mentor. Jess was certainly more experienced - Vero had witnessed Jess go down on a corpulent customer right in the middle of the bar just the previous night, swallowing his come as she knelt beneath the table, barely out of sight. Initially, Vero had been shocked and repelled - the whole thing was so casual. She knew, however, from what she'd seen, that it had turned Jess on, despite being so cold and transactional an affair and, she had to admit, she'd been a little wet herself at the illicit feeling of being "naughty" it aroused in her. She had, on leaving last night, decided she was going to quit and find a new job right away - she had even written the letter for Jacqueline and was all set to deliver it to her as soon as her shift was over, this was not the place, or the job, for her.
When she awoke, however, she realized for that brief period between sleeping and wakefulness, that she had been replaying the events of the night before in her slumber, which would explain, to her slight shame, why she was wet. Not having time to do anything more drawn-out and pleasurable, Vero had made herself come with two fingers - surprised at the speed of her orgasm, which began immediately on touching her slick clit. Lying back and settling her breathing as the twice-snoozed alarm blared again, she thought once more about Jess and the customer and how Jess had held his hand to her throat so that he could feel her swallow his come. She felt her cunt begin to contract faintly once more and shook her head, jumping from her bed to the shower and muttering, "Nope, got to get going," putting the intrusive thoughts behind her.
Dressing for her shift, Vero paused while selecting underwear. She had laid out her tight-fitting sheer black trousers which she loved and which showed her arse off in all its incredible glory, with which she would normally wear a thong so that no lines would be visible. After a few seconds hesitation she tossed the thong aside and selected a pair of black, lacy French knickers that rode below her hips. Without consciously admitting it to herself, Vero wanted to give the clientele something to trace with their fingers, should the usual wandering hands alight on her. Also, they made her feel sexy, and knowing she was wearing them under her trousers gave her a slight, delicious thrill.
Putting on a blouse that would, she knew, be nowhere near revealing enough as far as Jacqueline was concerned, Vero compromised by undoing two buttons, showing more of her soft, pale throat as she checked her hair and makeup in the mirror.
On the Metro Vero took note of the glances she was getting from Men - glimpsing the admiration and lust in their eyes. Usually, she shied away from such things - not wanting to know, fearing a meeting of eyes could offer some unintentional encouragement. Vero felt something in her mind changing a little, starting to flex her attitude, re-awakening that intoxicating feeling of sexual power she'd first experienced back home, yet she now realized, had lost touch with since moving to the more intimidating city.
Vero, arriving for her shift, bumped into Jess in the staff cloakroom, who grinned hello and kissed her on both cheeks. Jess was changing from her commuter jeans and trainers into a mid-thigh black skirt, expensive looking, which clung to her curves and revealed just enough of her stocking tops and suspender clips when she wanted it to, but not unless she did - it had to be a deliberate act to be erotic. Jess had explained this to Vero last night, standing with their backs to a wall, watching the room as Jess pointed out what was happening in front of her Vero's eyes as the other girls worked the room, yet had been completely hidden from her until she knew what to look for.
It was difficult for Vero to associate Jess with eroticism and mystery at that moment, however, as she could make out the smell of come on her breath when she leaned closer to her to listen.
The night began quietly, it was mid-week so the bar was half empty. This was less stressful for the bar staff but it also meant boredom and fewer tips, so everybody preferred it when it was busy. Vero, shadowing Jess still, was looking after a table of four men, the standard, central-casting middle-aged white businessmen with expensive suits, chunky gold watches, and wandering hands.
Two of the men were from out of town and were customers of the others, who were paying for everything and doing their utmost to ingratiate themselves. When Vero and Jess had been asked to join them, along with their third bottle of massively over-priced champagne, the two locals had insisted they sit with the out-of-towners, forming book-ends in the luxurious booth with the two men between them.
Jess had made sure that she was the one to step over the men's legs to reach her seat - taking her time and making certain they got a good view of her arse as she did so, bending at the waist a little to make the outline of her suspenders clear.
From the moment Vero sat, the man on her left had placed his hand on her left knee. For some minutes he just left it there, and, as Vero made no effort to remove it, started slowly stroking her leg through her trousers with a gentle rotation of his index finger.
Vero, a little uneasy but very aware of what Jacqueline had said to her about being more accommodating, and frankly even more aware of her financial situation, kept up with the conversation as much as she could (it was boring and childish by turns) and allowed the stroking to continue. She could see from the corner of her eye that the other man had his hand on Jess's leg too, and, of course, Jess was gently rubbing his crotch through his suit, where his erect cock was forming a tent. Vero glanced at Jess and was rewarded with a nod of approval and an encouraging smile - she was doing the right thing, it seemed.
The drink kept flowing - Vero was, despite the club rule, slightly ***** herself although trying to drink slowly. The man next to her had insisted she drink every toast with them and she'd not been able to refuse. Slowly but inexorably, his hand had risen to the top of her thigh, two fingers now gently rubbing her leg. He had found the hem of her knickers and was pausing now and then to trace the shape of them along her upper leg. Vero had set herself a limit - she had decided when he got to her thigh she would leave the table on some pretext, but now he was there she found she wasn't as bothered as she expected to be - after all, if she walked away now she'd have spent the last hour earning precisely no money. She surprised herself, then, when he slowly pushed his hand between her legs, using the flat of his little finger to push against her crotch - she didn't move. Vero was staring straight ahead, as was the man. Only Jess noticed what was happening and she certainly wasn't going to tell him to stop.
After a few minutes, Vero caught herself involuntarily pushing back against this stranger's hand and stopped immediately. She was horny though, she was ashamed, but she was horny. His touch had been exciting, taboo almost - she'd never been with a stranger and she never would have allowed a boyfriend to touch her like this in public, but this felt different - "It's my job," she told herself, "It's just what I do for work."
She gave a little start as he rotated his hand to try and part Vero's legs. Now she was at a turning point, and she knew it. If she complied then she was changing everything, even her view of herself, Vero opened her legs, and the hand immediately grasped her crotch, making her give a tiny little whimper which she hoped nobody heard. He rubbed with his palm, using circular motions, and now Vero was gently pushing back with her hips with no pretense. Both of them carried on as if nothing was happening, although from the way Jess was now glancing toward Vero every few seconds, she was aware.
Then came another decision. He moved his fingers to the waist of Vero's trousers, but they were too tight for his frustrated hand to push inside. There followed a few seconds where he sought the fastener frantically. Eventually, Vero slowly dropped a hand to her waist, below the table cloth, and unhooked her trousers, even raising her arse from the seat very slightly, very discretely, to allow her to roll them down her upper thighs a few inches, even though this ****** her to close her legs, restrained as they now were by the material.
The man was not content with this - she could practically feel the frustration pouring out of him. He tugged and pulled at her trousers until he managed, one-handed, to drag them to her knees, leaning under the table as if to casually scratch his leg.
Amazed at what she was doing, Vero was now able to open her legs far enough to grant the stranger full access to her wet cunt, and it was wet, very wet. Excitedly, he slid one finger and then another into her. She was sure the others would hear her breathing over the music and chatter, so she tried to keep calm, keep it together as this man rapidly finger-fucked her in a public place, Vero was able to discern a sound like wet slapping from under the table, her arse and tummy muscles rigid as she began to have trouble focusing on the man opposite her.
Vero's body was taking over. She was pushing against his fingers as much as she dared, the leather seat beneath her arse wet as her cunt juices pooled under her.
When the man felt her cunt begin to contract, squeezing hard on his fingers, he stopped moving and waited for her orgasm to build and slowly pass. She felt herself squirt a little, which only happened when she came hard. She rested her forehead on her hand with her elbow on the table, leaning forward and lowering her head as if to stretch her arched back, disguising the shudders that traveled from her thighs to her neck as she came, and came again.
Vero realized, as her senses returned and her breathing began to return to normal, that she was holding his hand against her cunt, her fingers and his covered in her cum as she clenched her thighs together, trapping their hands in place.
They still didn't look at each other, he stood, his erection large and obvious, and held his visibly wet hand out to Vero, who was adjusting her trousers under the table, "My turn," loudly and firmly, staring hungrily at her, "let's go."
As Vero took his hand and stood without hesitation, she glanced back at Jess. Roles reversed in under 24hrs, Jess was staring open-mouthed at her colleague as she left the table with the stranger.
