It's quite bizarre how it came to be actually, me living with them, being paid by them, fucking them on demand. See I am just a normal girl, albeit a pretty one. I graduated, and whilst I was looking for work related to my degree I took up temping to make a bit of money so I could stay on in my flat. I had a nice little car to fuel and also an addiction to shoes which didn't really come cheap.

I had been working in the head offices of a well known bank; typing, filing answering the phones.. you know, the usual stuff, when I first met him. It was May. I remember this because a few of the other women in the office had been chatting about jokes they were going to pull on April fools day the next week. I was wearing a pencil skirt with my Zara "sexy, but smart enough for work" top, and I had stockings underneath. I definitely remember that becauase it was those stockings that were the beginning of this whole thing.

He was a consultant, some sort of financial guru who the bank payed silly money to to come in and waffle about shares for a couple of hours every now and then. He had just come out of a meeting and was passing the front desk when he dropped his blackberry. Bending down to scoop it up right next to me I remember him looking up. My skirt had ridden up my thigh's and the top of my stocking was visible, as well as a bit of my peachy flesh. I remember him staring for longer than he should have. Nobody could see. I looked into his eyes then. He was about 30, toned, with blue eyes and thick powerful brows.

I felt that tingle between my legs, you know the one you get when you know that you either have to be fucked, or fuck yourself. The one you can't ignore. He must have known. I bowed my head, trying to put some sort of barrier between him and my arousal. He had an amazing power, a dominant aura that made my body a slave to him, even sat behind that reception desk with my tingling clit and my little stockings. He turned then, checking noone was around before sliding his hand up to the top of my stockings and stroking my skin gently, before placing a business card on the seat next to me.

As soon as he was gone I made my excuses and went to the toilets. Choosing the end cubicle I quickly locked the door, pulled my skirt up and french knickers down frantically and spread my legs. I was so ready. I finger fucked myself with both hands. Three fingers inside my wet sticky hole and two teasing my throbbing clit. I came hard, spasming around my fingers, imagining him watching the whole thing.

I finished at 6pm. By 6.10 I was sat in my car with my mobile pressed to my hear, heart thumping and pussy tingling. He answered after four rings. That was the beginning. That night I drove to his house, about an hour out of the city, secluded and clearly worth a lot of money. He opened the door and led me up a large stair case to the master bedroom. We hadn't said a word to eachother up until this point. He turned to me and asked what my name was. I told him I was Lina. He told me it was an unusual name, and I explained that my mother is from Peru. He called me a Latina and I nodded, saying that I suppose I am. There were no more words after that.

He walked towards me and ran his finger down my neck, trailing it slowly in between my DD breasts before unbuttoning my Zara top very slowly. I stood, unable to move, my breathing getting heavier and my whole body quivering, wondering what his next move was going to be.

To Be Continued...