After a heavy night of fucking and lots of cum-drinking I waited, patiently, the following morning, for my insatiable Office Manager, Sidz, to join me in the lobby so we could leave for our next meeting with the client in his office, downtown.

In our last meeting with him, he had obviously been attracted to Sidz and had responded positively to her less than subtle flirting. She was disappointed, however, that he had not made any moves that could be interpreted as an opening for further sexual activity. He was clearly a challenge for her so, for me, it came as no surprise that when we met in the morning Sidz was dressed to the nines, in a long black skirt, with a slight slit at the back which, with every step she took, allowed a tantalising glimpse of her shapely, black-stockinged  calves. She had paired the skirt with a white blouse through which her white lacy bra was clearly visible, as were the dark brown nipples – erect and ready for service – that stood proudly against the sheer white of her shirt. The look was completed by her trademark stilettos which helped to accentuate her calves even further. I knew she hadn't given up hopes of seducing the client and I smiled inwardly at the thought of him trying to resist her when her mind was so firmly set on having his cock.

We arrived to the meeting on time and he was as professional as ever, the three of us sitting in his spacious office, discussing a potential marketing campaign. Sidz had been giving him enough suggestive eye contact and had been doing the classic move of bending over him as she showed him outlines of what we had planned for his campaign, occasionally brushing her hand against his and speaking softly close to his ear. For his part, the client didn’t react to this subtle seduction and I began to think that Sidz had either met her sexual nemesis, or he really was a completely faithful husband. I knew that he wasn’t gay, so the only other explanation was that he had quietly dropped dead during the meeting and all that was left was for the undertaker to arrive to take his measurements. Sidz didn’t seem deterred, however, and carried on with her onslaught, before eventually finishing her close-quarters pitch and saying she needed to visit the little girl’s room.

No sooner had the door closed than the client’s demeanour suddenly changed. He breathed out heavily, making a noise that sounded like a cross between a deep sigh and an anguished groan, before standing up and rearranging his trousers. I could see the bulge that proved that he was very much alive and just as aroused by Sidz as pretty much most of the men I had seen interacting with her had been. His first words after she left were,

“Fucking hell AJ, how do you manage to get any work done with her around?”

I told him that we managed to mix business with just the right amount of pleasure and that I was, indeed a lucky man to have her around. He then asked if we were exclusive as a couple or whether I was ok if she fucked other men. I told him I had no hold over her and that she was, in fact, already fucking a number of other men at the same time as me. He then asked whether I’d ever shared her with other men while we were fucking. I told him that I hadn’t but wouldn’t be surprised if that happened in the future as she seemed up for anything that would broaden her sexual horizons. He looked thoughtful, obviously fantasising about what might be if only he had the gumption to stray as the visible erection told me he so clearly wanted to do.

Before I could ask what he was thinking, Sidz returned and the conversation went back to work. The meeting ended and he walked us over to the door with a hand placed on the small of her back. As we were saying our goodbyes he asked if we were free that evening and if we would care to join him for drinks at his home. We accepted gratefully and he continued to tell us that his wife was away so he hoped we would be OK with just his company. No problem for us and I saw a crafty look in Sidz’ eyes as I understood she was planning to make this a night to remember.

We arrived at his house ten minutes before the appointed time. I say, house, but his residence was more of a statement than a home. There was a long driveway, lined with huge white statues and, as we reached the front gate, we saw tall Greek-style columns in front of a door that seemed to be the height of a small oak tree. As we were guided inside by a pair of servants in white uniform, we noticed a huge marble staircase that curved like something out of an old European palace, oil paintings on almost every wall, and chandeliers that looked like they’d been imported straight from Versailles. Even I—no stranger to luxury—was impressed. The client stood at the foot of the staircase to welcome us and stepped forward to kiss Sidz on the cheek and to shake my hand.

And then there was Sidz.

She, of course, looked entirely at ease, clicking across the marble floor in her heels, her figure commanding attention long before her mischievous smile did. Her choice of clothing for this soiree was as elegant as it was alluring.

When I had met her in the hotel lobby, she had been wearing a thin overcoat that disguised what she was wearing underneath. Just as well, because when one of the servants relieved her of the coat, I realised that she would have been arrested had she walked out without it.

She had entered the client's hallway like she owned the place, her dress now even more daring than the ones I had seen her previously wear to attract onlookers. It was a glossy black number, a sexy cocktail dress that clung perfectly to her figure, with a plunging neckline that revealed the purple marks on her breasts left there by her last lover, just one night ago, still just visible despite her efforts to camouflage them with powder and paint. She had decided that she would not wear a bra tonight and her perky breasts stood proudly against the shimmering black dress, visibly erect nipples announcing her intentions for all to see. The daring thigh-high slit in her dress made every step a performance, and with every sway of her hips it was clear that she had also opted to go knickerless for the evening. The back of the dress dipped low, almost to her buttocks, revealing a perfectly shaped back and arse that hinted at all sorts of erotic scenarios.  Her posture was effortless: back straight, chin raised, yet relaxed enough to make it all seem natural. Her heels clicked decisively on the marble, the sound echoing through the vast hall like a drumbeat announcing her arrival. Even the servants, expertly trained to remain invisible, found their heads turning involuntarily, hands frozen mid-task.

And the client – usually a model of composure – could not hide the way his eyes followed her, a barely-there tightening of his jaw, a breath that lingered just a bit too long as he watched Sidz owning the evening. She moved with perfect poise, every flick of her hair, every tilt of her head, and every sway of her hips choreographed to draw attention without needing to say a word, her aura making it clear she was in command of the room—and all of us were there simply to worship at her stilettoed feet.

She shrugged off her coat with the kind of languid ease that suggested both comfort and quiet dominance, letting it fall into the outstretched arms of the eager servant who looked surreptitiously at the oh, so fuckable figure revealed beneath. The gold chain at her throat caught the chandelier’s light, drawing the eye downward towards her beautiful, tan cleavage. She didn’t just enter the room—she claimed it, radiating confidence, poise, and a sexual magnetism, that drew us all in, making it clear that the evening was already hers to orchestrate.

We were led into a drawing room where crystal glasses were already waiting on a polished mahogany table. The client himself poured the drinks, his eyes lingering just a beat too long on her as he handed hers over. She rewarded him with one of those sly smiles of hers that could undo even the most disciplined of men.

The conversation started innocently enough—business, mutual contacts, a little local gossip. But the longer the night went on, the looser the laughter became, and I could feel a subtle shift in the air. Sidz began leaning in closer, her hand brushing against the client's arm as she laughed at his jokes, and I caught the faintest flicker of something in his expression. A man who had always been, by reputation, faithful—now visibly struggling with the magnetic pull of the woman sitting opposite him.

The whiskey was smooth, aged, the kind you sip slowly and respectfully. But Sidz, of course, had no intention of being respectful—not to the whiskey, and certainly not to our host. She swirled her glass idly, legs crossed and recrossed, the tantalising glimpse of skin flashing with each movement. He, for his part, tried to keep his mind on the conversation, but it was obvious where his attention really lay and as the drinks flowed, he became more obvious in his attentions towards Sidz; mesmerised by every flash of bare skin, a tell-tale bulge again began forming in his trousers. Sidz refilled his glass for him, now taking on the duties of  hostess, as she stared directly into his eyes as she poured the golden liquid. Next, she placed her lips on the edge of his glass and sipped, leaving her lipstick mark on the rim, then turning that side towards him so he could drink from where her lips had been. It was a masterclass in seduction.

Her hand rested lightly on her prey’s forearm as she watched his lips touch her lipstick mark. She licked her own red lips slowly and I saw the faint tightening of his jaw, the quick intake of breath. She pulled back, feigning innocence, but her eyes met mine for the briefest second—a wicked glint that said, see, he’s already halfway there.

The room itself seemed to conspire with her. Lights were lower now, shadows stretching across the high ceiling. Gentle jazz played from somewhere unseen, the kind of background music that suddenly feels like a soundtrack to something dangerous.

By now, dear reader, the shift was unmistakable. The rich, powerful client who never strayed, who prided himself on discipline, was already ensnared. And Sidz? She sat back with the serene satisfaction of a hunter who knows the prey has stopped struggling. I took another sip, half amused, half entranced, entirely aware that we had crossed from business into something else entirely.

Sidz was delightful company, sharing her own anecdotes and giggling dutifully at his, all the time brushing against his arm gently, or looking him in the eye when he spoke and showing enough leg for him to be utterly captivated by the thought of what lay further up. The drink, and Sidz, were having the desired effect: it was a lethal combination. He was becoming more bold with his glances, the alcohol helping him discard his normally restrained demeanour. Sidz intuitively saw the effect she was having on him and, without missing a beat, leaned towards him to again refill his glass, allowing him a long, languid glimpse of her cleavage.

His cheeks were becoming flushed and he seemed entranced by what lay under the black dress that was, by now, pulled slightly lower, to show even more of her naked flesh. Clearly now enjoying the effect she was having on him, she went into the next phase of her seduction, pulling her dress back up slightly and pulling away like the accomplished cock-tease I knew she was. At the same time, she managed to turn the conversation to her favourite topic: sex. She did so with practiced ease, asking him a seemingly innocent question about how long his wife was expected to be away. He told us that she had already been gone for two weeks and would not return for another month – giving him plenty of time, he added cheekily, to get up to all sorts of mischief. She laughed dutifully, and asked him how he would manage without sex for so long. And that, as they say, was that. She had turned the conversation towards what she had been wanting all along and I knew that from here it would be smooth sailing for her.

He responded by teasingly asking her whether she was available to meet his needs in his wife’s absence. She demurred coquettishly and was non-committal, without ever making him feel that the door was closing on any sexual conversation. He proceeded to ask her whether she had a boyfriend, to which she answered: “Yes. A few actually” This was said without any bravado or, indeed any fear that he might think her a slut: it was merely the truth, a matter-of-fact answer to his very loaded question.

He became bolder and said, “you’re not a virgin then, I take it?” This time she laughed and said no she had not been one for a long time and followed it up with “unless you count my arse. No man has been there yet so I guess I’m an anal virgin, just waiting for the right moment to have it used. As a matter of fact, I plan on making that happen tonight with AJ when we go back to the hotel, actually”.

I almost choked on my drink as I had been planning the very same thing. The witch was reading my mind now?

The client said that he loved anal sex, but because of the size of his cock, most women did not want to try it with him. I could almost see Sidz’ mind digesting that little nugget of information and storing it for later use. She fired back with “Well, it’s always nice to be out of one’s comfort zone and I believe that one should never shy away from a challenge". They went back and forth talking about anal sex for a while. I was a horny spectator to their verbal tennis game, all the time thinking that this trip was proving to be better than I had expected it to be.

Next he asked her whether she had ever been fucked by more than one man at a time. She answered that this was something she had always wanted with previous boyfriends but was prevented from suggesting it because of their possessiveness. He said he could understand that, but that he, himself, would have no such qualms about sharing her with friends, saying he would enjoy showing them what a sexy woman he was fucking and would let them have just a taste so that they could know what he had and feel envious of him. He then turned to me and asked whether I felt the same, to which I answered yes and that when the right opportunity arose I fully intended to make it happen. Sidz said nothing more on the topic of threesomes, but had answered every sexual question with an equally sexual response that left the client in no doubt that here, before him in the (very fuckable) flesh, was a woman who truly loved sex and was willing to try anything to please men and fulfil her own dirty cravings.

Normally, Sidz would have pushed further on the topic, but this time she let the conversation drift back into safer waters and I started to sense a slight unease in her. For me, a great deal of her allure lay in the fact that while she exhibited sexual confidence, she was still  a novice when it came to anything more than vanilla sexual encounters The client was a man of the world and I was starting to become concerned that she might be feeling out of her depth and was trying to make a dignified exit, but didn’t know how.

I felt a pang of concern. What if she wasn’t ready for this next step? The client leaned close with a lascivious grin and suggested we might continue our conversation upstairs, letting the idea hang in the air like a mischievous invitation. She didn’t answer, but looked at me with what I thought was a nervous expression, silently seeming to urge me to help her find a way out of the situation that her insatiable need to attract yet another man had unwittingly orchestrated.

I cleared my throat. “Are you… okay with this?” I whispered to her. She smiled, playful but uncertain, eyes twinkling with her signature mischief, yet there was that flicker of hesitation again.

After a moment, we exchanged glances and that was when she decided to press pause. “Maybe… let’s think about it,” she said. “I think I’m a little tipsy and might need to sober up a bit before I say something inappropriate”, she continued with a nervous giggle. The client chuckled, reciting the old translated Latin quote: “In Wine is Truth,” and urged her to continue being as inappropriate as she wished. Sidz just said “maybe next time,” and gestured towards me that we should leave.

As he showed us reluctantly to the door, and moved to give her a gentlemanly kiss goodbye, Sidz surprised us both by planting her lips on his and I could see her tongue  entering his mouth for a long, deeper kiss than the client or I had expected. He was caught completely unaware and I could sense his confusion at the mixed signals, but he recovered quickly enough to kiss her back and even to grab her shapely arse and squeeze it firmly. After a minute or so of this, Sidz extricated herself and started to leave with a parting “until next time.” The client told her that if she changed her mind, it was never too late to come back. She gently pulled away and said she would keep it in mind, just as a servant appeared and ushered us to a waiting car.

The short five minute ride back in the hotel limousine was quiet, except for my half-joking, half-serious remark: “I wouldn’t want to push you into anything.” She stayed silent, staring out at the city lights, before practically sprinting to the bathroom when we entered the room. My concern was that she was only now coming to terms with how out of her depth she had been and was sitting in front of the bathroom mirror, embarrassed at her lack of daring. I knocked on the door and asked if she was Ok to which she said, “Yes, I'm fine. Come on inside”.

I expected to find a sheepish Sidz who felt she had let herself (or possibly me) down and I was ready to reassure her that this was not the case and that I thought no less of her for bailing on her first threesome. What I saw instead, though, was the last thing I expected. Sidz was standing naked, one leg on the bathtub, my razor in her hand shaving what was already a fairly smooth pussy. “Don’t just stand there,” she said. “Hand me a towel and let’s go. I want to see how big that cock really is.”

“W-w-well what was all that about then?” I asked.

“I haven't waxed my pussy in over a week," she replied matter of factly, "and I think it’s only right that I do my first threesome partners the courtesy of providing them with a smooth cunt to play with, don’t you? It was all I could think about as we seemed to be edging towards fucking each other, so I hit pause so we could come back and I could shave for you both.”

I couldn’t control my laughter and my pride that my confidence in her sluttishness had not been misplaced after all.

“Now call him and tell him we’re on our way before he changes his mind, because I have my mind set on having two cocks fucking me tonight even if that means calling room service and fucking the waiter, so it's better we do it with the client, don't you? That way, if you tell him you convinced me to go back, the contract’s yours for sure, hahaha.”   

I grabbed my phone. The client answered on the first ring. I told him we were on our way back and hung up as Sidz dressed again, showing once again that, in encounters like this, she was the one to set the rhythm—even when everyone else thought they were leading.

“Let’s go and find out what two cocks fucking me together feels like, shall we? This is gonna be soooo much fun!” she said as I dutifully followed her back downstairs to the waiting car, ready to witness and be a part of yet another chapter in Sidz’ sexual awakenings.

To Be Continued…