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I crossed my legs and sipped my hot steaming drink. Waiting patiently on my prize. It wasn’t very long, five minutes perhaps until I saw your familiar form cross the road toward the small café. You looked good, the name James Bond sprang to mind. You somehow looked different, but mostly as I remembered you. My all action hero. You kissed me on the lips and gave me a warm hug. Your bright cheery smile still the very same. Within a few minutes we were off to find your car in the over congested NCP. Your relaxed fashion was still the same, as you calmly negotiated the morning traffic. A few minutes took us onto the motorway. I leant back and left you to the long drive north. We were still easy in each others company as you brushed my thigh on the gear shift. I saw you smile in my peripheral vision, and a flicker of amusement passed through me. Perhaps this could be fun after-all. You looked good in your Levis and your usual brand of after-shave still got me the very same way. I tingle. If that Hollywood madam had a list that exposed a lot of embarrassed famous men, Stella's has men who could crash from political heights and lose fortunes in divorces, so give her an alias, Sarah, if your bestseller gets published. She's also a greedy bitch and pound signs swirled in her eyes when she met me."I received 2000 pounds out of my evening with Cyril. I have no idea how much Stella earned. But it gave me the wrong impression of the profession. He was most careful." Details, Vic," Sarah insisted."A limo picked me up at home and drove me to a pad, quite nice. I don't know if it was his, but it doesn't matter. It seemed to be designed for seduction and de-stressing nervous virgins. Though male in interior decorating with leather and dark wood, it showed taste. No heart shaped water beds there. He actually hired a masseuse who massaged me thoroughly and asked if she could have a taste. It was the best cunnilingus I ever had until recently. Her hands on my oily tits felt.
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