Em had always found it difficult to resist a straight-out proposition from someone she was enjoying lunch or dinner with one-on-one and with whom she had established some empathy. Sometimes she wondered briefly whether this was entirely proper. Mostly she put this unworthy thought out of her head immediately.
Even if she didn’t, even if the thought lingered which it sometimes did and which was always very sexy, she usually ended up with an urgently ardent new cock between her legs.
So when Fyodor, whom she had met on a two-day business trip to the other side of the country, invited her to lunch she was already expecting to meet his cock. Such anticipation always hardened her nipples and moistened her pussy, even if in the end she turned the man down. It was lovely to be desired.
She had no intention of turning Fyodor down, however. He would be the first Russian to win entry rights to her pussy. This prospect had excited her so much the night before that Vic the Vibrator had played Russian lover in her bed and she had come very hotly indeed.
Afterwards she had reviewed her European collection. It featured seven Britons, one Irishman, three French, one German, three Italians, a Spaniard, a Surinamese Dutchman, a Dane, a Norwegian and a Greek. She decided that a Russian should be added.
This was simply Em’s European collection. The full collection included a dozen Australians, one New Zealander, a South African who had made love to her in Afrikaans and one who did so in Zulu, five Americans, three of them excitingly long and black, three Japanese, two Chinese, three Argentines, a Chilean, two Brazilians, and five Indonesians. She was quite proud of her international collection.
The full list numbered fifty-six. Fyodor would be number fifty-seven. Em reasoned that if you divided this number by the fifteen years she had been indulging herself it was only a modest three point seven a year.
Besides, Fyodor had a wonderful sense of humour. Ambrose had once told her that contrary to much of the literature on the subject Russians did indeed like a laugh. She had been pleased to establish that yet again Ambrose was right.
Fyodor also had a big and strong body, which was one of Em’s essential markers for fuck candidates. He was well travelled, too, indicating that a world view would have modified the stay-at-home Russian psyche.
First thing that morning she had called her secretary and told her she needed to stay one more night and to make the required travel booking changes. She would fly home late the next day.
Then she rang Ambrose and told him the same.
She had dressed carefully for this lunch, which was to be taken in the break in the conference they were both attending. It was a warm day and they were to eat al fresco by the river.
She chose a little flowery knee-length dress with a crossover top that revealed what her mother might suggest was an immodest amount of cleavage. It was in a very light fabric and she was pleased that, as she walked to their lunch venue, the light breeze had flicked up her hem nicely a couple of times. Not quite to no-knickers point, but close enough.
She was also wearing charcoal thigh-high stay-ups. Em loved to feel sexy.
Feeling sexy was enhanced this day by the presence beneath her dress of a very tiny but astonishingly effective push-up bra. It was black and lacy and like her dress absolutely unable to hide hardened, raised nipples.
She was also wearing her currently most-favoured play string. This was simply a thin length of black lace around her hips with a tiny V of red lace tassels hanging loose at the front. She had bought it in a sex shop in Tokyo on a business trip and had tried it out on a Japanese businessman with spectacular success the same night.
It always worked very well. Once play began it hid nothing. That was how she liked it.
It had most recently re-proved itself one Saturday afternoon the previous month when she had visited a hotel in her own city to see a fly-in visitor for whom she was seriously hot.
He had discovered her sexy little secret just after they started foreplay and he had fucked her immediately, ripping off her dress and bra as he did so. The little string stayed on, exciting both of them. It had stayed on for their hotly immediate follow-up fuck as well.
Not hidden by her little string was the ultra-thin line of dark hair she was currently keeping above her pussy. It was an eighth of an inch wide and two inches long.
Em was seriously aroused by the time she had walked to their lunch venue. Fyodor was already there. He stood up and pulled out the chair next to him for her. As he did so he undressed her with his eyes and said, “Welcome. You look lovely.”
He was an attentive host. He was paying for the lunch, naturally. They ordered lightly but well. Over the salad starters, Fyodor said to Em, “I am sure you have a beautiful body and a very hot pussy. Also your nipples are very plainly erect and hard, which I find irresistible.
“Forgive me for being so forward but I really think we should see each other naked.”
Em looked at him over the top of her killer sun glasses and stared. Fyodor began to look alarmed.
Then Em laughed and said, “It won't be quite naked Fyodor, at least not the first time. I’m not wearing panties, just a little tasselled string that will arouse you hugely. And I would certainly like to have your tongue and your cock in my pussy.”
Fyodor got an instant bulge in his bespoke trousers.