The sky, of which there is rather a lot in Cambridge, was the colour of lead. From horizon to horizon an unrelenting solid coffin-lid of cloud covered my little world. No more the vivid world of Amsterdam, fizzing with light and colour. Yes, I was back at work and work is what I did, all day and often into the evening. I wanted it that way. My avoidance behaviour was good for business! My boss (bless her) welcomed me back, no questions asked, she could see I had recovered from my little trauma and I left her office on that first day with an armful of clients’ files. Head down, bum up, I worked steadily through my emails and slowly caught up with my affairs. (Don’t smirk. )

Morning coffee was a different experience, no more ‘whirligig cafe', it was back to Caffe Nero but it wasn’t long before I didn’t have to ask the pretty Romanian girl for my order and my old life gradually assembled itself around me, familiar, boring but protective. Justyna and I agreed not to get in touch for a couple of weeks. Life in O’Reilly’s Irish Pub would be the same mix of tourists trying Guinness for the first time and lovers of various gender combinations sheltering in the shadows at the back. At home I was chaste.

Although in my usual attire of just a big sloppy old t-shirt and woolly leg warmers, I felt no real desire to flirt, let alone have sex. Perhaps I was a little bit depressed, a low mood anyway. I take Prozac, did I tell you? I have some experience in moods. The signs of cutting have long since faded to faint white lines across the tops of my thighs.

Justyna’s reply to my email came two days after I had reached out to her. That was so typical of my beautiful friend, she knew what the anticipation would do to me. It was strange at first, we were so formal and polite with each other. The fact that English was not Justyna’s first language meant that her words seemed to have a deeper meaning. Like a secret code which I was not quite able to decipher. After the emails we moved to Trillian which now I really like using, and gradually all our pretence at politeness fell away and the role playing began. She made my heart pound so hard. In our imaginations we bought beautiful clothes for each other, we drank the finest wines and went to lavish parties. Friends came round for dinner and often Justyna encouraged me to undress for our guests. Actually I love stripping for others. Once she made me lay on the table all naked and helpless and I was licked and touched and it was heavenly. We slept together every night, a ritual of preparation and cuddling and snuggling up together. We didn't always make love, sometimes we just lay side by side and chatted (and fondled of course, how could we not.)

My work was unaffected and in fact I felt calmer and stronger because of Justyna’s presence in my life once again. Reality is just a concept anyway and lust belongs to no particular world, neither real’ or virtual and when I told Justyna online I was going to cum, I REALLY did cum. My next door neighbours will confirm this! You may have deduced that my ‘mood’ had perked up a bit. My libido was just stretching and yawning and putting its feet on the floor. (Thank you Grace Jones). 

And so it was for a couple of months. Justyna kept me amused with tales of Amsterdam life, we made love together and we searched for interesting toys to play with, some I actually bought In Real. Work was going well, keeping clients happy is a bit like plate spinning. You have to dash over to any that seem to be wobbling too much and get them spinning merrily again. I can do this, it’s how I get to keep my job. Our lab is working on a drug to help female sexual dysfunction, for those who’s libido has disappeared, a sort of Viagra for ladies. As you can imagine the security measures surrounding this work are intense.

The days were growing shorter, now I was going to work and coming home in the dark. It was not quite winter but it was on its way. As they do every year, the shops were pretending it was already Christmas. By the time Christmas does arrive, everyone is thoroughly sick of it. It was mid December when Justyna’s e-mail message arrived and my whole world changed in an instant.

Apparently Zoe had been in touch, you may remember the tall leggy girl from the Museum for Photography. Zoe wanted to find out how to contact me because Jenneke Janssen (Fedora hat?) wanted me to model for her. Now my heart was really pounding. I remember so clearly the faces of those girls, in their agony and ecstasy and the business of how that happened and what made them climax like that and hurt like that. I called Justyna at work, which I shouldn't have done. My mind was a blur. It would mean a trip to Amsterdam of course, Jenneke’s studio, and God knows what would be done to me. I was in the office when I got the message and my body was responding just as much as my mind. I went to the little kitchen at work where we make our drinks. I was shaking, my face flushed, my neck flushed. I found a half full bottle of Chianti and took a long slug straight from the bottle. Thank God no one saw me. Thankfully the afternoon was horrendously busy. I never had a chance to think about Amsterdam and so I managed to get through the day.

That evening Justyna and I met on Trillian and we made our plans. As you know my company has a client in a place called Amstelveen which is very close to Amsterdam. Now I needed an excuse to visit them, maybe on a Thursday and I could make it a long weekend and.. and... and… 

It was Justyna who rescued me.  She announced that she was going to sit on my face and that shut me up in several ways. She loves me licking her bottom and I love doing it. The idea that soon it might be happening for real was enough to get my tongue thrusting into her delicious little star. I was touching myself while she rode my face and we both came at the same time. I lay awake for ages and my dreams were filled with such strange images. A black crow, a woman in a hooded cloak and I was stark naked, burning with lust.

Litt;e by little the plan unfolded. I managed to engineer a face-to-face meeting with my Amstelveen clients. I get so close to my roster of clients that they count me among their friends. I have even been invited to their children's weddings. Relationships, deep and longstanding, that's my thing. (And profitable of course… that’s my boss’s thing.)

Now the next step was to get those Netherlanders to ask my boss for my presence at their office. I needed to keep a low profile here and let it come as a surprise. Back across the narrow sea Justyna was keeping Zoe appraised of arrangements. I would be met at Schipol airport and taken to Jenneke’s apartment. There everything would be explained, there would be disclaimers and copyright release papers to sign. Then I would be ‘prepared’ Justyna said.

Days passed, then a week, until the summons came. The boss passed the printed email across her desk. 

“I have booked your flight, no Krasnopolsky for you this time Suzy. It’s the Novotel at the airport I’m afraid. But don’t worry, they will collect you and bring you back.”

Yes! I high-fived myself in my head. Out Thursday, early, back Friday… and it was a transferable ticket so I could easily delay my departure for a couple of days. But then? Boom! It was a national holiday and the following Monday was a day off in the UK. I messaged Justyna and fell into bed and made a pass at myself, which was eagerly acknowledged and I fucked myself silly.

The official purpose of my visit was to present a sample of our new drug. You remember the female Viagra? I then had to explain their purchasing plan. This would be a detailed negotiation, ‘Nitty Gritty’ detail as they called it. Did I tell you that my Dutch clients were Japanese? Negotiating with them is practically a martial art! They would test the drug, set up a research programme and report back. I wouldn't even see the new formulation because it was sealed in a special container that not even airport security was allowed to open. 

Justyna was with me online every step of the way. She was keeping Zoe in the loop and thus Jenneke. Then I discovered there was going to be a fee for my work, I was about to become a professional model!  Over the years I have learned that every pleasure comes with a price tag and recompense will eventually have to be made. I knew my way around guilt, the knife-twist of reminisces of my sheer stupidity by letting my cunt take the lead. That lawyer with her creepy husband. I know I told you that I ran away. I lied, I am sorry. I did go there and we did ‘do it’. She was okay and loved me nicely and skilfully. He was awful, I mean just creepy and weird and his body was awful too. He was shaved. I’m sorry I lied to you. I was just so ashamed I had let things go that far. 

Okay, it was time to straighten up. I needed to prepare. My boss ran through the details, all straightforward and familiar. The drug was never actually going to be in my personal possession so that was all okay and at the close of play on Wednesday night, this girl was off home and back online with my wicked girlfriend from the land of tulips, windmills and shocking eroticism. My first meeting with Zoe would be at O’Reilly’s bar as soon as my proper job was over. Then I would be taken to the studio. Justyna apparently would be joining me later. Pressing my fingers to my wrist I realised how much this had got to me. Wine soothed me and that Wednesday night I set my alarm and hugged myself and slept.

I was met at Schiphol airport by the client and driven to their offices. The meeting itself passed smoothly. There were no negotiations, the facts were as stated. Timetable accepted and much bowing and handshaking. They took me to a lovely Japanese restaurant nearby, overlooking a lake. It was just for a drink thank God. My whole being was desperate to escape and find Justyna.

The driver dropped me off in the town centre and I grabbed  my bag and headed for O’Reilly’s Irish Pub and pushed open the door. Justyna and I kissed for real for the first time in so long.  Just hearing her say, ‘I lof you,’ caused havoc in my loins and I blushed beetroot red. The place was practically empty so I found a space in the shadows at the back where I was to meet Zoe. I spent some time emailing my office in Cambridge. The signed agreement was safe in my bag. So far the plan was working beautifully.

“Hey Suzy.”

I looked up. I had forgotten how tall Zoe actually was.

“Can I get you another drink? White wine I think isn’t it?” And she smiled and headed for the bar. I watched her. I watched how her body moved so gracefully, I watched her bottom in her skintight black jeggings and my soul melted away. 

“So Suzy, shall we get down to business?” I felt as if I was suddenly very small and powerless. 

Zoe explained the consent form and how the fee would be paid and where the pictures would be used. I nodded helplessly and my hand was shaking as I signed everything she put in front of me. Then she put a hand on my thigh and began to explain what was going to happen. I would be naked throughout my entire time at the studio. A make-up artist would take care of everything including the waxing and shaving. I would have my own room and we would all eat together. Then the photography would begin. I would be brought to orgasm many times over the course of the photo shoot. Of course I would be hurt too, sexually. That was part of the agreement. 

Justyna came over to our table and smiled. She had been through this procedure herself of course. 

“I will be there too, Suzy,” she said.

Zoe stood up and held her hand out to me and I put my hand in hers, but it felt as if I was putting my whole future existence in her hand too.