Readers' note: this is the third novella in a series concerning the varied life and adventures of Beverley. The previous two novellas were The Perfect Whore and Tales of a Suburban Sex Goddess. The present novella follows on directly from Tales of a Suburban Sex Goddess and many of the same characters occur in the new story.
A Very Discrete Whore
Chapter I Mistress
Beverley returned from Spain determined to keep a low profile after her truly outrageous sexual behaviour abroad. In Spain she had felt liberated and reborn and with her husband Graham's active connivance had abandoned all her inhibitions. When she recalled how she had allowed, indeed encouraged, a total stranger to participate in all manner of disgusting depraved sexual activities with her, she felt ashamed. But underneath the shame was the realisation that she had thoroughly enjoyed it all; Beverley had uncovered an aspect of her character of which she was previously unaware. During the course of a few short months she had changed from being a very respectable suburban housewife into a thoroughly liberated woman. By mutual agreement she and her husband had agreed to a period of separation so that they could both reassess their lives.
Back at work at the local Public Library Beverley told her friend and colleague Dorothy of her decision to separate from Graham. When Dorothy realised that Beverley had nowhere to stay she offered her temporary accommodation at her home. Dorothy was aware of Beverley's sexual liaisons with her sister's husband Gerald. However, she was not sure if Beverley knew that Graham had fucked her at the summer barbecue and decided it would be wise not to mention it.
After a few weeks back at work in the routine of the library the memories of her holiday indiscretions began to fade. She made no attempt to contact Sylvia and Gerald and lived a very respectable almost monastic life.
Working quietly at her desk in the library one day she suddenly heard a familiar voice.
'Hello Beverley, you look very nice today. Did you enjoy your holiday?'
It was Brian Williams one of her devoted admirers among the library clientele. He owned a florist and a garden equipment shop in the town center and sometimes presented Beverley with a pot plant or small bouquet. Beverley smiled and exchanged pleasantries with him. From time to time he had invited her to have a drink with him but she had always had a ready excuse, citing domestic commitments.
'Dorothy tells me that there have been some changes in your life recently.'
Beverley cursed Dorothy under her breath and wondered exactly what she had said to Brian.
'Nothing of any importance,' Beverley said, trying to close down the subject.
'Well if I can ever be of any assistance do let me know.' He paused clearly wondering how to go on. Beverley indicated that she had to get on with her work. 'Well I must go.' He paused again. 'By the way, I like your stockings; black is my favourite colour. Goodbye.'
As soon as he had gone, Beverley got up from her desk and marched into Dorothy's office. She was furious.
'What have you been saying about me to Brian?' she demanded angrily
'I only mentioned that you might be in need of some temporary accommodation. You know he's got a flat in the town centre which is mostly unoccupied.'
'You know perfectly well I couldn't possible afford the rent on a flat like that.'
'There is more than one way of paying the rent,' Dorothy replied archly. 'You know he's got the hots for you.'
'He's nearly seventy,' Beverley exclaimed with exasperation.
'All the better,' Dorothy replied. 'He probably can't get it up more than once a fortnight and it would all be over in thirty seconds.'
'Dorothy, stop it,' Beverley replied firmly.
****
A couple of weeks went by and Beverley realised she couldn't continue to impose on Dorothy's good will indefinitely. She thought again about Brian. He was a charming rather handsome man in his late sixties and a widower who lived in a large residence in the country. The next time he came in the library she made herself more agreeable and arranged to meet him for a drink after work.
Brian was already sitting in the bar when she entered. As he helped her out of her coat she ensured that he had a good view of her dΓ©colletage and short cocktail dress. She sat down next to him in and crossed her legs and showed quite a lot of her thighs.
'I see your wearing my favourite coloured stockings,' Brian said with a smile. 'I assume they are stockings?' Beverley inched her dress up so that he could see her stocking tops and suspenders. 'Absolutely delicious,' he murmured. 'Now what would you like to drink to make you loose all your inhibitions?'
'I lost all my inhibitions some time ago,' she said calmly, 'a glass of white wine would be fine.' Brian placed a tentative hand on her thigh.
'Absolutely delightful; you really have a beautiful body.'
'How do you know,' Beverley responded with a smile, 'you've never seen it.' Brian slid his hand up beyond her stocking top and gently brushed his fingers against her crotch.
'Mr. Williams you really shouldn't try and finger my cunt in a public bar,' Beverley said casually, 'particularly when the waiter is coming over to take my order.' Reluctantly, he withdrew his hand. They sat in silence until the waiter brought Beverley's drink. She took a sip from her glass and looked at him speculatively. 'If you really want to finger me, perhaps we should go somewhere more private.' Brian was rather startled by her brazenness. 'I already told you I have absolutely no inhibitions,' she said by way of explanation. Finally Brian found his voice.