Seduce Me by Miranda Forbes

Author:Miranda Forbes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Xcite Books
Published: 2012-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Meeting Mister M

by Evalina Frances

He’s not a total stranger.

For the hundredth time I repeat this to myself as I move one station closer to my destination. The rocking rumble of the tube train is both calming and ominous. The butterflies in my stomach fall quiet then erupt into a mass of fluttering each time the doors open and then clamp shut.

I look at my reflection in the darkened window opposite. My long messy bob is tamed in a knot at the base of my neck, leaving a curtain of dark fringe from under which my green eyes seductively peep. The fitted white blouse unbuttoned, showing more than a hint of the black bra that barely contains my ample cleavage, and it clings perfectly, accentuating my waist. A neat black skirt skims my hips and stops just below my knee so that my calves, dressed in the sheerest of stockings, looked toned and tanned all the way to my 4 inch giraffe print heels.

I smile at the girl that stares back at me from the glass, even more pleased with myself when I think of what is hidden beneath my outfit. It’s all about the lingerie for Mister M.

I’m here, my stop. I stand, grab my bag and hop onto the platform. My echoing heels click time with my repeated mantra …

He’s not a total stranger. He’s not a total stranger.

We’ve known each other for some time. Drawn to a site of erotic writings, I couldn’t contain my curiosity from peeking at pictures of its members. Mister M had stood out immediately. Unlike the other faceless, gratuitous shots of cocks in various states of arousal, his were interesting, cheeky and oh so sexy! Some stripping in a suit, others in jeans without boxers, wrapped only in a white sheet or naughtily under the desk at work they had made me smile as well as making my pussy wet.

Uncharacteristically, I soon posted some of my own and it seemed my pictures had the same effect on Mister M. We started chatting and before long progressed to webcams. I lacked the hardware so swapped his spare camera for a pair of my panties which I had misted in just a hint of my perfume, the same perfume I wore today. The first time I heard him call me his ‘good girl’ in my headphones, a jolt of desire ran through my body, ending up in a slippery mess between my legs. It was addictive and electric – cyber sex that rivalled the real thing.

It was inevitable we would meet.

Reaching the top of the stairs I step out into the early summer sunshine. I love London at this time of year and the most obvious place to meet was right in its heart, Trafalgar Square. We’d arranged just outside the National Gallery but now, as the butterflies twisted themselves into a frenzy in my belly, I feel a sharp stab of nerves.

Hanging back from the spot we’d agreed, but keeping it in clear view, I pull out my phone.

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