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In the shower, it was all Elise could do to not revisit the images that had done her in so unexpectedly. Was it all just from the banging on the door? She stroked the soap impatiently across her skin, eager to be getting on with the day, already feeling behind. And when eventually her hands made their way between her legs, she made sure to wash her pussy quickly and sternly, not allowing herself to linger on her smooth lips, or dip her finger into her tight hole to collect some of the still seeping moisture. It’d been an aberration, that’s all. Fuck Leo. Fuck the fucking landlord.

Fuck her life.

Having moved quickly through washing her body, then impatiently shampooing her hair, Elise allowed herself the luxury of double conditioning it, stroking and stroking her fingers through the long brown strands till it was so smooth it didn’t offer the least resistance. Even then, she ignored the stream of bubbles washing over her breasts, despite her nipples hardening yet again, and forced her mind to stay on the tasks of the day.

She tried to think about where she might find a job — normally the modelling sites had something — and maybe she could… But the signal was cut by a vision of Leo with her in the shower, staring at her in sheer amazement, enraptured by this very sight, as if bubbles slipping across taut breasts and hard nipples was the most incredible thing in the world.

How something like that could render him incredulous when he’d fucked her into oblivion just moments before, she had no idea. And even now, it was hard to believe the memory — the hesitation in his face. How for a moment he would seem unsure how to touch her. Where to start. As if she were a play of light he didn’t dare disrupt.

He would kiss one of her nipples, so gently at first. Then firmer, sucking the bubbles right off it, sending tremors straight through her clit. Eventually, just when she thought she’d go crazy with need, he would move to cup her pussy, gently stroking up her saturated slit to at last settle upon her still sensitive bud. How he’d make her watch as he captured individual bubbles and rub them slowly into her button, reducing her legs to mush.

Bastard, bastard, bastard.

She got out of the shower and wrapped a huge white towel around her, enjoying even now the way her tanned skin contrasted against it. And as she moved the towel around her body, letting it draw the moisture from her skin, she savored her tits the way she always did. Admiring them in the mirror. Fuck I love your tits. Elise knew how good they were. How men couldn’t help but stare any time she wore a tight top — even if she wore a bra. They were only a B cup, but they were firm and perky, with little hard brown nipples that men just had to suck, like they were reduced to childhood all over again just at the sight of them.

As she brought the towel down her toned stomach, she moved quickly across her pussy and stroked down her long legs. These were her meal ticket, she knew that. She had great tits, but she could model because of her legs. And they were what turned Leo on the most. Spreading her wide. Eating her. Wrapping them around his head, around his waist, kissing all the way up to her…

Fuck Leo. You son of a bitch.

She was a fucking model. She could go to a club and pretty much point. Everyone wanted to fuck her. Everyone in the street looked at her, thinking about fucking her. Whatever she was wearing, she knew, people — even in the middle of breakfast — would imagine stripping it off her. Pulling her skirt down. Ripping her delicate panties. Throwing her over the table. Forcing one leg up to spread her open for their…

Jesus Christ, Elise. Give it a rest. There was work to be done today. Fuck Leo. She wasn’t going to lie in bed feeling sorry for herself. Not today. She was the fucking model. She was the one who could have anyone. He was just a photographer. A hot-as-fuck photographer, with hair that fell to his jawline, and made him look manlier and more boyish all at the same time… enough to send shivers of carnal deliciousness through her as she ground herself against his chin… Fucking hell.

Enough.

She poured a large circle of body moisturiser into her left hand, and then quickly ran it up her legs, then spread it into both hands to apply all over her torso. She kept her mind on what she would wear today, and well away from the feeling of her smooth hands rubbing softness into her skin. Into her tits. Over her ass cheeks. Up and down her legs. Quickly across her already moisturized pussy lips…

She already knew what she would wear. Her slinky black dress that was just a touch too short. That flicked up playfully with every step she took, with every breath of wind that played across her legs. She always thought if she couldn’t get a modelling job in that, they weren’t looking for her type.

She walked back to the bedroom, and pulled opened the underwear drawer. The panty drawer. The bras had been exiled canlı bahis to the one below, thanks to Leo. Who’d have ever thought she’d need a whole drawer just for panties. But she couldn’t help herself. He hadn’t told her to do anything, but she’d just loved surprising him so much… She loved the way his eyes would light up when he got a peek under her skirt, or pulled her jeans off, when he played with her at the movies… Fuck she loved that look on his face. All just for what she chose to cover her pussy with that day. She couldn’t help but buy more and more — all different styles and colors and cuts. Just to try and get that look — those blue eyes staring at her pussy in wonder.

She reached unconsciously for the soft pink cotton briefs he’d loved so much, then even as she was stroking their softness with her thumb, she thought better of it and put them back. No. Fuck what Leo liked. And instead she drew out a tiny black lace g-string. It weighed nothing in her hand, and it was hard to think of it serving any other purpose than decoration. It was little more than a tiny triangle of sheer material, held together by thin straps of black elastic. It was more like jewellery than functional underwear. Just something to make her pussy look even more delectable than it did on its own. And as she stepped into them, and pulled them up her long, smooth legs, she turned to the mirror to see herself draw them to her pussy, and smooth them against her lips. Jesus. They were so sheer, so flush against her waxed lips she could see herself perfectly through the material.

And for a moment she considered wearing something less… less sexy… less… if anyone saw them they wouldn’t be able to take no for an answer. If anyone knew she’d covered her treasure in little more than light black gauze, they would force her to spread her legs and just take their hot prick. They might not even wait to get them off. Even to tug them to the side. They would just shove their cock so hard at her they’d tear a hole right through them. And keep fucking her till the pathetic thing lay in shreds around her ankle.

Elise turned away from the mirror. Stop. She went to pull them off — she should wear something more sensible, even just some non-see-through… But then she held them in place. Fuck it. She felt good in them. Felt sexy. And fuck all those pricks that wanted a piece of her. They could fucking eat it. About time those assholes learnt you don’t always get what you want.

And with that she found a matching bra, then moved over to the closet and stepped into the little black summer dress. At least she’d be comfortable, she thought as she zipped up the back, even if she couldn’t find a job.

A last look in the mirror, and she smoothed the dress across her butt, then did a little spin to see how the hem flew up, giving the most delicious peak at her upper thighs. Yes, she thought, if I can’t get a job in this, I’m not the look they’re after.

And then, just as she turned to go back to the kitchen, she stopped. You fucking bastard, Leo. And with her left hand she pulled the hem of the dress up to reveal her panties and the delectable lips they encased. And then, lowering her right hand towards her warmth, she watched herself draw her manicured middle finger along her barely covered slit — forcing the ultra-sheer panties into a crease between her pussy lips.

*

What had she expected? Just because she had to get a job today — that she simply couldn’t get to tomorrow without the rent unless she wanted to offer herself up as payment — had she really allowed herself to think that that alone would make a job appear? Models.com had nothing. Stagelights had nothing — at least nothing that would pay today. And Backstage had absolutely nothing at all.

Elise slumped back in her stool. Jesus. What was she meant to do now? Go stand on a street corner? But she stopped herself from heading down that well worn path. She was a model, not a prostitute. And just because she didn’t have a PhD, just because she made her income from her body… She shook her head and stared at the laptop screen. Don’t. But sometimes it felt like the two weren’t miles apart. Men wanted to fuck her. And that was how she made a living. That was how she’d chosen to make a living. She could have gone to uni. She could have studied English literature — like she’d been so sure she’d do, all through high school. But something had happened — summer break before her last year. She’d found she didn’t just like reading anymore. She liked the way boys had started to look at her. The way men had started to look at her. Even in her school uniform. She liked that more than she liked pretty much anything.

She called herself an actress. She liked the sound of that much better — and she’d gone to some classes, scored some roles, in ads mostly. But she was no actress — not really. The parts she got were for her looks — little more than draping herself over cars, that sort of thing. Her ass did more acting than bahis siteleri she did. She was a model, for better or for worse. And she knew she’d better make the most of it while she still could.

She ran her eyes across the kitchen bench, then up and across the dishes in the sink, the cupboards she knew were largely empty — the fridge with little but takeaway Chinese boxes and Budweiser. And for a moment, she again wished that that summer before senior year had never happened. That none of it had happened. That she’d never grown into… what she had. She knew she was blessed, that people would kill for her body — and even now, she could feel it grip inside her, that certainty that she’d never give up that look in men’s eyes, never — but today she wished she had a desk job. A workplace. A regular place to be where she knew what to do and just had to go through the motions. Where all she had to think about in the morning was what version of a grey skirt suit she would wear. Whether she’d get caramel in her latte on the way into the office.

Coffee. Yes. And whether it was the hit of caffeine she wanted, or just the mission, the reason to get out of the house, she wasn’t sure. But she didn’t care. She slipped on the black pumps she’d placed by the stool, grabbed her phone, keys and handbag, and after checking her makeup at the mirror by the door, headed out.

The moment she opened the main door of the building, before even taking the six stairs down to the sidewalk, Elise knew she’d made the right decision. What the fuck had she been doing cooped up in that shitty apartment? Apart from fucking her poor little pussy into an air-stealing orgasm, imagining the huge cock of her ex pounding her like he hated her…

She cleared the thought from her mind, and enjoyed the way the hot sun hit her exposed skin, how the light played through the dancing leaves of the plane trees that lined her far-too-expensive-for-her street. She skipped down the stairs and turned left, then right, in the direction of Starbucks, but also in the direction of the sun, and she bathed in the warmth as it hit her body like a sunlamp. She could feel the sheer fabric of her panties stroking her pussy lips with every step, but there was nothing she could do about it now, and she simply let herself enjoy how much it would fuck Leo up if he knew she was still doing that. That the next guy that fucked her wouldn’t just get her long legs and perfectly firm tits, they’d get a pair of specially chosen panties, and the outline of her already wet pussy pressed into the material — the perfect invitation for a finger, or a tongue…

She could hear the clack of her heels on the pavement, and already she could feel the attention of almost everyone she passed. People didn’t realize how obvious they were — how much they stopped and stared, even when they didn’t mean to. It was as if they could smell her sometimes, as if her scent preceded her, alerted them to the presence of something beautiful — something fuckable. Their head would jerk up unbidden, and they’d clap eyes on her, run them over her quickly, furtively, guiltily, linger on her tits, or the hem of her lightly flipping dress — wanting a glimpse of her panties — and then catch themselves, maybe glance momentarily at her eyes almost to apologize, and then retreat to whatever they’d been doing. The real cheeky ones though, looked back up to check out her ass when she’d passed.

It was tiresome. Tiring. But while it always made her feel like meat in a butcher’s window, even just going for her morning joe, she wouldn’t have swapped it for being ordinary — not in a million years. And she had to admit that seeing all the eyes in Starbucks turn to her as she entered made her pussy tingle in its tight gauze enclosure. If only they knew…

She ordered from a kid of hardly more than eighteen. The look on his face like she were an alien. Like she were the president. ‘G-grande?’ he stammered, correcting his mistake on the keyboard.

‘I want the biggest you’ve got,’ she said, holding his eyes, just because she could, because he had to learn somehow. He turned away, as if a colleague might be able to help him, to defuse her sexiness somehow, but then had to return to his monitor, resigned to the fact that help wouldn’t be coming. ‘Yes. Grande,’ he managed in the end. ‘What’s… your name?’

‘Elise.’

‘Alice?’

‘Elise,’ she repeated, smiling gently at him. ‘Like release, without the R,’ she said, giving him a wink and moving to the pick-up section with only just the slightest pop in her walk. She knew that would fuck him up for days, and she needed that today. She needed to remind herself of her desirability. Leo had just up and left. Had he found someone else? The thought always pulled the floor out from under her. She couldn’t think about it, but how else could he have managed it? Was she more beautiful than me? Was she better in bed?

By the time she heard her name, she was shivering. Unable to leave the treacherous bahis şirketleri thought alone, but rendered almost immobile by it. She found herself moving towards the booth they always tried to secure, in the corner by the toilets, without conscious thought. It was almost as if her body had decided for her. Or the gods, or fate or whatever, who’d made that seat available, and so few of the others.

But the moment her ass cheeks touched the cheap leather upholstery, she could see Leo’s smiling face across from her, so clear and vivid it was like he were actually there. He always seemed so delighted by her presence — almost like he was whimsically musing to himself how he could possibly be so lucky to be sitting across from her. Not in the least thrown by her beauty, just mildly surprised — as if he knew he were a lucky son of a bitch, but that he always had been and had sort of gotten used to his own ridiculous good fortune.

Just the vision of his smile quickened her heartbeat. An echo of the way it had always been from the first time she met him — her heart always went crazy around him, like a dog when its owner arrived home. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her, the way he gentled her, the way he smiled at her — like it had just occurred to him how much fun they were about to have.

God, she loved that motherfucker.

Elise sipped her latte, and tried not to feel the wetness that had formed between her lips. She couldn’t afford to get wet — not in the thinnest panties ever designed — but even that thought made her pussy clench, and a surge of pleasure run into her tummy. And from there her mind went to where it had been straining towards since she’d found herself in that booth — even perhaps before that.

The first time they’d come here. This booth. Leo smiling that devilish smile at her, like he was trying to work her out, but not minding that he couldn’t. She’d been in a little pleated skirt — just to fuck him up. It was her way, to find the guy’s weak spot, the thing that would make him hers, that would give her the power. They were still so early, it couldn’t have been a month, and still — she was only this far from being in a slutty schoolgirl outfit, just to see what he would do. But he hadn’t done anything, hadn’t reacted at all. He’d admired her, probably told her how beautiful she looked — but he always said that. Even at the start.

Elise crossed her legs the other way, as if that might help, and turned her attention to her coffee, to her day. She had to get a job. But whether it was the way her stomach gripped at the realization of just how fucked she was on that score, or the insistence of the memory, she couldn’t seem to escape the eddy of the past, the tug at her consciousness, and in the end it was all she could do to keep herself held in the position she was in. It was only then that she felt just how tightly crossed her legs were — the right pressed hard against the left — and she knew it was her body trying to keep some control. To keep her from doing what her mind was urging her to.

Already, there was a voice in her head telling her to open them — just a bit — and let the cool air-conditioned air touch the damp material of her panties. It felt as if, if she did release her clamped down leg, if she opened herself to the air, steam would come from her. And the feeling of relief would be such that she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from…

No, Elise. Not in fucking Starbucks.

She tried again to snap out of it, to snap back to the present moment, to the comings and goings of people in and out of the store, empty-handed on the way in, replete as they left — satisfied at last. She watched a woman take an initial sip of hot coffee from her stainless steel, extra-large travel mug. It seemed to touch something deep inside her, fortifying her for whatever lay ahed. Her back seemed to straighten, and she walked out of the store more upright than she’d walked in.

Elise needed that feeling. And she felt a twinge of annoyance that she didn’t have it. She’d only just pulled a massive orgasm out of herself — her mind flashed to the image of Leo holding her legs apart, sawing his massive rod in and out of her helpless pussy, studied concentration on his face, eyes locked on her little butterfly wings clamping and releasing his cock as he screwed in and out of her, decimating any pretence she might once have had of being a good girl.

Jesus. Elise shifted in her seat. Took a sip of coffee. But it was an irrelevance. Like treating your knee when the pain’s in your neck. Her pussy was tingling like crazy, and she could feel the moisture between her lips, making them slide across each other with even the slightest movement. This was exactly what she’d been like when… and her mind returned without permission to Leo sitting across from her, that sideways grin on his face, like he knew… How her eyes had crashed into his steady gaze and got locked there. He could see through her. He could see the need there, the squirming inside her even as she kept perfectly still. How his eyes rested so calmly on hers, the steadiness, the certainty — like he could see how her throbbing pussy was threatening to betray her.

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