I decided that I wanted to do the stockings and suspenders thing. And so, feeling a little nervous, I popped into my favourite lingerie shop and with the help of fabulous and discreet sales staff, I spent a small fortune.
That night I dressed up. I clipped my stockings to my suspenders, put on a not too short black skirt, a sheer shirt, no bra, and high fuck-me-now black shoes.
With a very beautiful black classic coat over.
Everything was Italian.
When My Difficult Friend saw me he just kept looking.
You look absolutely beautiful Violet, beautiful.
Thank you, I replied, pretending to be super calm while inside my heart felt completely insane.
I took my coat off and sat on the arm of the couch, legs crossed.
My nipples were visible through my top. My skirt rode up my thighs. I crossed and uncrossed my legs.
I felt beautiful.
And very sexy.
I also felt exactly like a high class hooker. An Italian one.
And here’s the thing.
I liked it.
My Difficult Friend liked it too.
We chatted. We drank whisky. I taunted him a little. He taunted me. Every time he came close, I pushed him away. My heels in his crotch were fantastic.
I played the hooker role.
We did wonderful things.
My lipstick got smeared. My hair was a mess. My skirt came off. My suspenders stayed on.
I may be feeling a little tender today.
Most importantly, I never tore my stockings. Which is why one should always wear expensive fabulous imported did I mention expensive stockings?
It means I can easily play the high class hooker role again.
If I want to.