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Right we’re almost half-way now. But there is still loads to tell you about my cast of sexually dysfunctional characters who either wear or want to get inside the nurse’s uniform, preferably with Sammi still in it!
Seeing the scores that the readers are giving this series and the ratings awarded by Lit, I don’t seem to be doing too well. Is there not enough action? Do I digress too much? Or are there other reasons? I would value your opinions. Each one I receive will get a photo of me or Sammi in our underwear! Now I can’t be fairer than that can I?
After Mike’s trip to Saudi, somehow, and he had no real idea how or why, things progressed quickly. Contracts were prepared, plans were agreed, meetings took place and, suddenly, it all began to happen. The German and Saudi money came through, the deal was agreed in principle on the building near Windsor, the refurbishments to that were scheduled, recruitment got going and all the operating procedures and systems just seemed to fall into place. To the consternation of the owners of the clinic where he currently worked, Mike had resigned and, despite them offering to almost double his package he had left.
Mike was amazed.
At one moment it all looked to be a disaster and at the next, Claire, who was acting as his personal lawyer, told him that the arrangements were proceeding well for the “closing ceremony” where everything would be signed.
“And there, big boy,” she said, slipping her robe off as she came from the bathroom into their bedroom, “I will, at last, meet them all.”
“All?” Mike asked looking up from the FT he was reading in bed.
“Yes, your fantasy bit Sammi, Emma and the Al Korensis.”
“Mmmm yes you will won’t you?” Mike replied adding. “Why will Sammi be there?”
“She has to sign a waiver and some other documents about the therapy and role-plays. Can’t have you being done for living off immoral earnings can I when she fucks half your patients?”
“Hmmm,” was all Mike could say
Claire walked round the end of the bed and sat down at the dressing table. Her “full” body wobbled with every movement. She was pretty big everywhere, but certainly not gross nor in the BBW category; round about a size 14 with something like 36 double d tits a 28 inch waist, hip measurement in the low forties and a nice round, full arse that Mike called cuddly, Korlen called lickable and many others had simply called big. Her height, around five feet nine, enabled her to carry her size off quite well and overall, she came across as being quite sexy, but then women that put out “I’m available” vibes as she did, usually do.
She and Mike had sex. Not fantastic, not mind-blowing or earth shattering, but satisfying and pleasant love-making. That’s what their relationship had come to. Pleasant love-making together, and lots of bits on the side. They were both too embarrassed to actually count how many they had, but in the recent past, for both of them the numbers seemed to have increased dramatically.
Not just the numbers, but also, certainly on Claire’s part, the relationships as well. Fucking the German financier, Korlen, who was providing some of the funding for Mike, was one thing, after all she introduced them and she had fucked him before he knew Mike. So nothing wrong there. But having what was now becoming a full on affair with Mike’s mentor, one time professor, now work colleague and fellow shareholder in the new clinic, Sir Bernard Prestle, was pushing it. She knew that, she was aware of the dangers, she knew he was married with children and she knew he loved his wife and thought a hell of a lot of Mike, but all that just made the whole scene with him more interesting and stimulating.
It had been the same when she was married. She seemed to have this need to seduce any man that got really close to her husband, somewhat like what was happening with Bernard and Korlen and Mike. She had “given herself” to her ex husband’s business partner in the art gallery they had started, she had seduced his best friend and she’d had sex with his brother. What a bitch I am, she often thought, but then conditioned that with, well it takes two to tango!
Despite Sammi’s reservations about the part she would be playing in Mike’s use of intereactionary neuroses therapy, she was also becoming excited. She had been on a few training courses, purely the theory so far, and had been withdrawn by La Crème from normal duties to assist Emma with the mass of logistics she was working on for the opening of the Windsor clinic, which was going to be in less than six weeks time. Sammi had been surprised to hear that Emma was also going to take the full training course; she made a mental not to aske her why?
Working closely with Emma was part a joy and part a torment for Sammi.
She was in total awe of Emma’s knowledge about hospital and clinic management, nursing procedures, the hotel aspect and all the other functions making up a modern facility. If she was in awe of that, güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri she had no term to describe her feelings about Emma’s organisational skills. Just like her tits, Sammi smiled, they are simply amazing. Emma never panicked, she always seemed to have time for everything, nothing seemed to happen that she hadn’t catered for and her planning and prioritisation covered everything.
The torment came from the incredible sexual vibes that the older woman generated towards her. Emma was a clear thinker. Anyone running the number and type of businesses she was, had to be. She did very few things on impulse, everything was thought out, well-planned and organised. And so her desire for Sammi was nothing really to do with emotions, not even really to do with the younger woman’s physical attractiveness, as strong as that was, it was all to do with her getting power over her. She knew that if she could fully control the blonde, mould her and manipulate her, she could well develop Sammi as her successor.
Not so much in running the businesses, the UK nursing agency, the one that recruited nurses worldwide for employment in Saudi, the investigation agency and the call girl service in Saudi that she was planning to expand into several other Middle Eastern countries, but more in the liaison, as she termed it, shagging as others called it, with top clients like the Al Korensis.
Now that the Sheikh had passed most aspects of the family business, including her, down to his two sons Ahmad and Sunni, Emma knew she was a bit long in the tooth for them and their contemporaries in the region who she was, more and more doing business with. Sure fucking an older woman was fun, for a while and for many twenty and early thirty somethings it was a bit of a turn on, but she knew it would be short lived.
For some time she had been on the look out for a younger woman who she could bring into the very heart of her business dealings. The CV of that woman, though was very restrictive. She had to be stunning looking, she had to be a nurse, she had to be bright, able, very business-minded, money oriented, highly ambitious and, above all else, she had to have, in technical terms, the morals of an alley cat. Sammi to a tee she had thought after she saw the test results during Sammi’s employment process with La Creme.
In Emma’s typically manipulative style, she worked out that to control and persuade Sammi in the way she wanted, she had to make Sammi dependant upon her, make Sammi need her, if necessary make Sammi love her, in a way; in the sort of way many secretaries love their boss.
Now she wasn’t naive and she knew that if Sammi had the strength of character she would need to take on the job, then she wasn’t going to be so girlschooly mawkish as to have a crying, pleading crush on her. She knew that the attraction she had to create wouldn’t be based on typical love, but on admiration, the key emotion she had to tap was not Sammi not being able to be parted from her, but of being in awe of her; it was all about admiration not infatuation!
She knew full well Sammi was bi, she knew that she was active and she knew that soon they would have sex. And that was the second part of the manipulation. Emma guessed that Sammi was a typical London West End, club-going lipstick. Probably dabbled with a few friends without really making a full commitment; not a commitment to a person, but one to having full on lesbian sex. And that was what Emma was going to teach her. How to get a level of sexual excitement from a woman that no man could replicate.
It was ironic that Emma was thinking along those lines for Sunni and Ahmad had discussed it several times. They acknowledged, as far as any Saudi man could, their indebtedness to Emma. They recognised that she had been a good mistress for their father, although in both his and their eyes, she was really nothing more than a whore and that she had been a good teacher to them in the sexual ways of western women. They also accepted that, but for her and her sexual ministrations, several of the deals where they had made stacks of money just would not have happened. But she was of another generation to theirs. The power in their country was passing from her age group and upwards to her age group and downwards, so she was being squeezed both ways.
That said, they still enjoyed sex with her, regularly, just as Abdullah their father had before them. Often whenever either or, both were in the UK, Emma would get a call. It could be to come to their London flat in Belgrave Square, one of their several houses dotted around the country or a suite in a hotel. It could be just Ahmad, it could be just Sunni and it could be both of them. Whatever the combination, Emma knew she would be in for a tough time. They were both very demanding, had fantastic recovery powers and amazing stamina, but then guys in their mid to late twenties should have, she thought. She preferred being just with Ahmad, for he was gentler and didn’t güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri push her for anal sex, whereas Sunni always demanded that. Whether he was fucking her alone, or whether he was fucking her with Ahmad, or whether he was fucking her with another man they might bring along, or with one of their other women or a girl that Emma supplied, it was her arse he attended to mostly.
Sammi wasn’t usually attracted to women. She never looked at a girl and thought, I’d love to fuck that or wondered what other girls looked like naked. He “bi-ness” wasn’t like that. Sure, she could admire another woman’s beauty or figure, but not in a sexual way. That only raised its head when availability and opportunity came into the equation. Dancing with a girl in a club and their bodies touched, seeing a woman who smiles and holds her gaze just that moment too long, having a woman be a bit touch feely, maybe a sales assistant in a clothes store, that was the sort of thing that could raise her sexual temperature, but then only if that was accompanied by good looks and a nice body. She was picky and choosy.
But her feelings about Emma were different.
At nights in bed Sammi was prone to thinking about her far more than she had any other woman she had known and been attracted to. Her luscious lips, her rounded, curved body, her gorgeous face, her tanned, lithe legs that Sam had seen that evening she had visited the offices of La Crème and Emma had modelled the new uniform and, of course, her gorgeous full breasts that Sam so envied.
They didn’t actually fuck that evening when Emma returned to her villa to find Mike lying on the floor with Simoo straddling his face and Kimah his cock: or maybe it was Simoo who was impaled on, what looked to Emma to be, a very respectably sized and completely hard cock . Not actually fuck, but they did have sex, in a way.
Emma had purposefully got away from Abdullah as quickly as she reasonably could without upsetting him.
Her plan was to compromise Mike, to get at him. There was no way, she had told herself, that the cocky, arrogant, extraordinarily fanciable, delicious Doctor Stevens was going to refuse her. Fucking liberty she had mouthed several times when he wasn’t looking.
Sheikh Abdullah al Korensi was a cousin to Prince Bandah who was a brother of the King of Saudi Arabia. The al Korensi family had made a fortune, initially from construction and oil, but latterly from owning, running and building hospitals and clinics, throughout the world. As was common in the Middle East, business was done quite differently to the Western world; in many ways. One way that was the same, however, wherever business is done, is in the use of sex, to oil the wheels of commerce. And that was how Emma had made herself a multi-millionairess. She had fucked her way into a position of power in a country where women did not officially exist in business. Emma did though.
She existed as Abdullah’s mistress having sex with him mostly in London or other European capitals, but also when she visited Saudi in connection with La Crème the nursing agency she ran. She existed as his whore, fucking people he did business with so that he got a competitive advantage. She existed as a madam, supplying girls, mostly Thai, who she imported into the Kingdom under the pretext of them being nurses. And she existed as the sexual educator to his two sons Ahmad and Sunni, who were taking over the family business.
Abdullah, though only in his late sixties, was ill; he suffered from a sort of Crone’s disease and had a life expectancy of only a few more years, hence, the need to pass over the reins of the family business as quickly as possible. Though, frail, he still wanted sex. Sure he had several wives, sure he could have hookers galore in Saudi and on the, now infrequent, trips he made and sure he had other mistresses, but there was something special about Emma, and that wasn’t just her glorious tits and magnificent arse, both of which he had fucked many times.
It was her brain and imagination that so appealed. Her brain for business and her imagination for sex.
He had adored the way that she had slowly lifted the figure covering cloak over her head when she had arrived at his town house near the embassies in Riyadh. He didn’t live there, but used it for business meetings and sex. His eyes had glinted when he saw the black taffeta nurse’s uniform, the white lace round the neckline, the deep cleavage it created, the tightness of the material round Emma’s tits, hips and bum. He had stared at the small, white apron that was tied round her waist and covered her to mid thigh. He had taken in the hem of the skirt some six inches above her knee, the stretched material over the perfectly rounded, twin cheeks of her arse, as she twirled for him, and the blackness of the seemed stockings.
“For the clinic in Windsor?” He asked.
“Not quite like that though?” He said from güvenilir bahis şirketleri the big mattress on the floor that was covered with many multi-coloured cushions.
“No, this is for us, there’s will be similar but more demure, of course. I had this made especially for you and of course the family.” Emma replied leaning over and kissing him on both cheeks and then the lips.
“Mmm it’s lovely,” he murmured his eyes boring into her cleavage, his hand slipping up the back of her leg confirming that she was indeed wearing stockings.
Emma ran her fingers affectionately across his cheek and chin as she said softly.
“They of course will wear tights, other than when you visit, when I will have them all wear stockings like these.
“As usual, Emma you think of everything,” he said pulling her down so she was kneeling beside him.
“I do try Abdullah, particularly for you and the family.”
She had the helped him undo the top of the dress, pull that down, take the apron off and roll her skirt up. She had modelled the self-support, holdup, lacy topped, black seemed stockings, the black, lacy thong and the black lace bra. She had turned so he could more easily undo the clasp on her bra and then had turned back so she could peel the clinging, black lace away from her full, luscious tits. He stared at them for a few moments as Emma ran her hands over them.
“You like my tits, Abdullah?” Emma asked, playing up to what she knew was his weakness as she took hold of his hand and placed it on her left breast.
“Mmmm oh yes Emma, I do.”
“My tits, Abdullah, our tits, your tits,” she groaned as her stroked them, gently and tenderly; he had in his prime been a great lover.
Her dress came off, her thong came off, but her stockings stayed on. Very carefully, Emma had slid her hand between them seeking his cock, but she was aware that she shouldn’t take too much of an initiative; the al Korensis might be horny bastards and more Westernised than most, but they were still Arabs.
She laid back against a pile of cushions. She opened her legs and raised her knees, flashing her cunt that was still bald, at her long-term lover and sponsor. And then Emma wanked herself. And she really did make herself cum. Just as she climaxed, she saw Abdullah rubbing himself and she guessed he was getting hard so she rolled towards him making all of her body available to him. She was offering him her tits, her thighs, her pussy, her bum and her mouth. Each was hisif he wanted, it was his choice, his selection, his preference.
She watched as he slowly pulled his white, silk robe up his body, stifling a smile when she saw he was wearing socks under it, but nothing else. He bunched it round his waist, exposing his semi-hard cock. He smiled at her, put his hand round the back of his head and slowly pulled her face towards him. She was happy with that.
She never did actually get him fully erect; but she knew from previous experiences a complete hard-on wasn’t needed for a man to cum. As indeed it wasn’t with Abdullah. No, not a full hard-on, but lots of licking, sucking, kissing and stroking, before his body stiffened, his grip on her head tightened and his hips started to move a little as he began to fuck her face. He did well, but then he was with Emma, a master at blow jobs.
Emma had no compunction at taking his cum in her mouth and looking him straight in the eyes as she swallowed it. Over the years she had done that for him many times.
Mike was in a total quandary. He had already cum once when he had fucked the two Thai girls and was well on the way to his second cumming of the session. Now with Emma here he just didn’t know what to do. Simoo and Kimah, though, didn’t, as it were, bat an eyelid. They continued kissing, they continued caressing each others tits, they continued fucking Mike and they continued letting him suck their pussies, whichever way round they were. They did all of those things because it was expected, it came naturally for they had been carefully briefed and had done it several times before.
Emma looked down at him.
“Yes, wonderful,” he replied, feeling a little embarrassed, somewhat awkward and rather defenceless. He knew there was now no way he could resist Emma. It was impossible, he was aroused to a high level, he was fucking one girl and sucking another and now Emma was here. If she seemed irresistible standing over him in her long, flowing robe, if Mike had any chance to fight the need to have sex with her as she stood there looking down on the threesome and if there was just the slightest chance he could comply with his vow when she was asking about joining in and if he was enjoying it, that all suddenly vanished.
With Mike and the two girls watching her, Emma took hold of the robe. Her white painted, fingernails gripped the thin orangey, red material. Her eyes never left Mike’s for a second as slowly, tantalisingly slowly, she lifted the robe up and up and up. From her ankles, along her calves, over her knees and up her thighs. She exposed the black stockings, the seams at the back, the lacy tops, her slim legs and gorgeous thighs. She lifted it further and further and further. So far, that could see she was naked apart from the hold-ups. Not just naked, but totally bald on her mound.
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