‘I promise I won’t laugh Dudley, size isn’t everything believe me, and I should know. It’s what you can do with it that counts.’ She held her other hand out to him. ‘Come on let’s go into my office.’ He took her hand and meekly followed as she led him through the door into her bedroom. He saw himself in several angled mirrors as they approached an enormous bed. ‘I thought we were going to your office?’ She laughed. ‘You of all people should know that this is where I do most of my business.’ His laugh was spontaneous. Of course he knew, and considering their history, he was amazed that she was prepared to joke with him about it. Despite himself and their history, he was warming to her. He looked around the room. No windows, just mirrors and artificial lighting; a replica of the bedroom in her Mayfair flat.
She placed the letters on a bedside table and pressed a button on a digital display.
Soft blues music began to play. He pointed to the letters. ‘They’re addressed to Ms Lovebrace,’ She turned, swaying in time with the music and began to slowly pull off the elbow length gloves. ‘I am Lucinda Lovebrace.’ She dropped the last glove nonchalantly to the floor in perfect time with the end of a phrase.
‘What happened to Anita Von Beta?’
‘I changed my name to protect the innocent.’
He laughed. ‘Which ones were innocent?’
‘Well, perhaps not the high court judge or the government minister, but there were many ordinary clients whom I had no wish to see exposed.’
‘Anyone who can afford a thousand pounds a go can’t be ordinary, not in my book.’
‘Ah, you’d be surprised. A lot of them saved up. I saw them once every four or six weeks, some only once a year, but they obviously felt it was worth it.’
She pushed another button on the digital display and the lights slowly dimmed.
‘So what will it be, Dudley?’
His erection was beginning to ache, but would he be able to perform? He could possibly fake it if he was having proper sex with her but she would definitely find out that he was a premature ejaculator if she gave him a blow job.
‘I’d prefer the second option,’ he said.
‘You mean a fuck?’
He winced and nodded his head. She moved forward. placed her hands on his shoulders and looked at him with what he took for genuine concern. ‘You don’t like it when I refer to it as a fuck, do you?’ Having given her the best oral sex she had ever had, he was beginning to feel masterful. ‘No and I don’t like you calling your pussy a cunt, either.’
‘Has anyone ever called you one?’ she asked sweetly.
He laughed. ‘Very likely.’
‘You’re so old fashioned,’ she said, unbuttoning his shirt, ‘you probably do it in your pyjamas.’ He shrugged. ‘My wife insists on that.’
‘You poor thing, no wonder you’re a pervert.’
Dudley Wink had never thought of himself as a pervert, not even when he was caught and shamed at the age of fifteen for hiding in the girls’ toilets at school. All his mates thought it pretty normal. His parents, although they claimed to be disappointed with his behaviour, quietly smiled to themselves in the knowledge that there could not be much wrong with their boy. But they did not know, as he did not know, that although he was very attracted to girls, he would rather watch than touch. Watching them play netball in skirts which exposed their knickers at the merest jump, twist or bend, was a particular joy.
He was bright, but not academic and wanted to work, rather than spend another two years in further education. His father managed to wangle him a job in a small plumbing business in West London. In the strictest sense, it was not an apprenticeship, but he learnt the trade as he went along and as he became more useful to the firm, they gave him a day off a week to attend a college and gain an NVQ. Plumbers were beginning to earn good money and by the time he had his qualification, he could pick and choose where he worked. Plumbing new houses was hard work and not a lot of fun, but visiting private homes on call out, placed him in an ideal environment to secretly look at women. They could be so casual in their own surroundings and many of them forgot he was around. On a good day an attractive housewife would bend down to show him where her washing machine was leaking, forgetting that she was wearing a very short skirt. Or perhaps forget he was there and not close the bedroom door. He had a photographic memory and found that he could replay these images in his mind as he lay on his bed masturbating.
He developed an interest in photography and took pictures of attractive females in compromising positions with the help of a powerful telescopic lens. But, as the film had to be sent away to be developed, he had to be very careful. Then, digital cameras came along and he invested in the smallest and most powerful one he could afford. It was the best friend he ever had. Easily hidden he captured some wonderful snap shots of unsuspecting women and had immediate access to them on his computer where he could enlarge and crop the images to fulfil his needs.
He started his own plumbing business so he could pick and choose his own customers and if he was really smitten with a customer, he would make a job last a couple of days and hide his camera over night. Anita Von Beta came into his life through recommendation. She was a high class call girl working out of her own luxury flat in Mayfair. He was called in to refit her bathroom with luxury fittings and couldn’t believe his luck. She was quite happy to walk around in next to nothing and he soon realised she needed the attention of her clients as much as they needed her. Not that she ever made a pass at him, why should she? He was an insignificant little plumber, who privately lusted after her gorgeous body. But it wasn’t long before he had planted a small digital video camera in her bedroom and by linking it to a laptop, recorded all her activities over twenty four hours. He was amazed at some of the things she got up to with her clients, but more than that, what she did to herself when they had gone. Some days she would have sex with twenty different men, yet still have the need to play with herself between clients and often in front of them.
He accumulated some marvellous footage and by secreting the camera in different parts of the bedroom, covered virtually every angle. If he had kept the bondage antics of the government minister to himself, he would never have been found out, but he wanted a very expensive camera and tried to raise the money by selling some of the most compromising stills to a national newspaper. Unfortunately the editor of the paper he chose was of the same political persuasion as the minister. The rest, as they say, is history – except it was hushed up so it would never make the history books. Charges against him were dropped in return for all the erotic video material he had in his possession, and an undertaking that he would stop his activities and never tell a soul.
Less than six months later he developed back trouble, sold his business and moved to Hamsworth and became a postman. He joined the local photographic club where he met and married Linda, a school teacher who taught netball. She was also the District Administrator for the Girl Guides and mad on wildlife photography.
‘Do you need to use the bathroom?’
Dudley came back to reality to find that his belt had been unbuckled and his trousers were almost down to his knees. He grabbed them firmly by the waistband to arrest their downward progress.
‘I can do that in the bathroom.’
‘Don’t go hiding any cameras.’
‘I don’t have any.’
‘I know, you were scanned as you came in’ She detected a whiff of cheap soap. ‘You’ll find everything you need in there. You can take a quick shower if you like.’
He turned towards the bathroom.
‘Oh, and Dudley, how would you like me? Like this, or completely naked?’ He looked back. She had her back to him and was bent over, touching her toes and looking coyly at him from between her long stocking clad legs.
‘Like that,’ he said, steeling himself to look at her wonderful pussy, knowing she was waiting for him to look away.
She watched him intently. Having being on such intimate terms with her cunt he was getting quite brave. She noticed him move his right hand to touch the bulge in his underpants. The little pervert was thinking of tossing himself off…
With the image of her pussy firmly imprinted in his mind, Dudley Wink held his trousers up and walked to the bathroom. Less than a minute of furious wanking would be all it would take. The bathroom was amazing. It was bigger than the whole downstairs area of his cottage. He closed the door and looked for a way of locking it, but there was no key or bolt. He leant against the door, pulled his trousers and underpants down to his knees and took
