We have been apart for what seems like an eternity, and tonight I want to give him a night to remember. I go into the bedroom, where I have lit more c...ndles. Laying on the bed is a black lace catsuit. I have taken a shower and shaved everything, because I know you like me bare like a little girl. As I remove my robe, my nipples harden from the change of temperature. And the thoughts of what I have planned for you. I get the bottle of jasmine oil that you love so well and slowly start to massage. A small group had gathered outside the door and all were commenting on my body.“Girl, that bikini looks great on you.What a fine ass.Man I would love a piece of that.I love those little tits.Shake that fat ass bitch.”I was bright red but also enjoyed the attention. I felt a hand on my ass and figured it was Brad but didn’t want him doing that in the shop, but as I turned around it was an older man, probably in his 40s. His hand went inside the back and his fingers between the cheeks of my ass. That happened a long time ago, hurt like hell and was humiliating. I was lucky to meet some very experienced, careful men after that. By the time I was 28 I was entirely comfortable with sex. I loved fucking and did it a lot with many different men. You might say I was a slut but I prefer thinking I was just a healthy young woman with a healthy body and a healthy libido. I developed quite a reputation actually. I loved seducing men; initiating the first contact, encouraging them, giving myself. The guys insist I get looked after. Last year – the final hand of my final night – they had me win twenty thousand with a pair of threes. I ask you. ‘Banking,’ she said. ‘Well, that must be int-er-esting.’ I’ll spare you all the details. We talked half an hour and to my huge surprise I got on well with the Princess. Although to be entirely candid, when you’re staring down the barrel of a pair of 38s like Felicity’s, you’re tolerant of the aristocracy. Big tits keep you focused, especially when.