Miss Catfish

A little while later Paul asked me to join him in his office. As soon as I entered the room I could tell that he and the model had enjoyed a few glasses of wine over their lunch. I wouldn’t say that either was drunk per se, just a bit merry.

My boss introduced me to the model and he told her that I would be working with him on her account. She got up from her seat to shake my hand. There’s no denying that she was very pretty indeed. She was a little taller than me, but that might have been due to the huge heels she was wearing. She had sparkling green eyes, beautiful full lips and long thick dark brown hair that was clearly well groomed. Of course I noticed her remarkable cleavage, and when she sat down again as she crossed her long legs her skirt rode up a little and revealed lovely lace stocking tops.  I’m ashamed to say that my snobbery had left me assuming that she would be what my Nana would describe as, “a bit common”. I was very wrong. She had a northern accent, but it was rather refined and she was clearly well educated, she was no slouch when it came to business either. And she had a cool sense of humour.

We talked about her career and her earnings and I sat next to Paul and made notes. I was surprised to hear the sort of figures she earned on glamour shoots, but I was even more surprised to find out how much she earned elsewhere. She had a business diary full of personal appearances at night clubs and quite a few trade shows. “You know, Lad’s Mag things”.

I thought about my sister’s husband. The only Lad’s Mag thing that he was ever interested in was about angling, he gazes over mail-order fishing tackle pages for hours they way that other men look a girls' breasts and I said as much.

“I’ve always had a burning desire to be Miss Catfish” she said with a giggle that made her boobs jiggle. 

Paul was gawping at her bust and I had to elbow him in the ribs. There was a brief embarrassing pause; then she offered to show us her portfolio and heaved the large album onto the desk and began to turn the pages for us.

Paul was transfixed. Mostly in very exotic locations, the photos were wonderful and she looked very sexy in assorted bikinis or that sort of pieces of lingerie I’d kill for. When she showed us the next set of topless pictures, I was looking for evidence of the scars from her boob-job. She guessed as much, with her hands under her breasts she signalled where they were and told us they were usually airbrushed out. As she held her tits together for our benefit, Paul audibly whimpered. My boss leant forward to inspect the photograph more closely, and when he sat back again I noticed the erection in his trousers. I reached a hand out and left it in his lap.

The model paused, and said that the next pictures were a little harder. She asked if we’d like her to continue. I tapped my fingertips against Paul stiff cock and he answered for both of us. She turned the next page over.

I ran my fingers along the length of Paul’s erection as he gazed at the portfolio. The seductive pictures of the woman on the opposite side of his desk showed her playing with her cunt. She fingered herself for the camera and I stroked my boss's dick through his suit.

“When I started, this was as far as I was prepared to go. But then I discovered that I’d earn more for ‘toying’ and I thought to myself, ‘Why not?’” she said as she turned another page.

As she spoke I surreptitiously opened Paul’s flies and grasped his hot hard cock. I held it in my fist as we examined the close up photograph of a thick vibrator in the new client’s pussy. My boss tried to rock his pelvis and make my hand move over his dick.

“Amazing picture”, he muttered as he tried to fuck my closed palm, “amazing”.

“Do you only do solo shoots?” I asked. “Or do you do shoots with others?” I knew the answer already of course.

“I do now. I didn’t used to, but again I was offered much more cash. I get asked to do boy-girl stuff, but so far I’ve always turned it down. A lot of girls don’t do it because they say their boyfriends wouldn’t approve. With me it’s just that I’ve never met a male performer I’m happy to fuck, on or off camera”.

The model turned the next few pages other together and presented us with a high-resolution copy of the familiar photo that Lora had found online. I wondered what I’d have to do to persuade her to be happy to fuck me. 

My boss said, “Do you have a boyfriend? Or are you a lesbian?”

She laughed at that.

“I don’t have a boyfriend at the moment, but that’s means nothing. I do ‘pay-for-gay’. In all of my publicity material it says that I’m bisexual”.

Paul turned over the next page and stared at the picture of the model fingering the other girl. 

Jesus Christ she looked hot! I played with the tip of Paul’s dick under his desk and felt his pre-cum seep out against my thumb.

“I have discovered that I’m beginning to like being with girls a lot of the time these days. And it makes my work a lot more fun”. And there’s no way that statement was for anyone’s benefit other than my own. The things she had said had soaked my knickers.

I was in a bit of a daze. I don’t remember exactly how Paul ended the meeting, but I escorted the new client through the office and called the lift. 

When we were on the way down she said, “You’re fucking him aren’t you Jayne?”

I’d left my boss sitting at his desk with his cock standing proud in his lap, but I thought we might have got away with it. She was obviously worldly wise and there was no reason to deny anything, so I told her that I was.

“Then you should go back and finish giving him his handjob. It was fun to see you doing that, but we should talk again soon”.

I am obviously on a promise.