My name is Gabriela.
No, it’s not, but I’m not telling you my real name. I’m 29 years old. I was 29 last year too.
I’m a professional girlfriend. My boyfriends’ wives would call me a whore.
My boyfriends buy me jewelry, clothing, pay my rent, my credit card bills, sometimes even give me shares in their companies or illegal stock tips.
What do they get out of it? What do you think? They get a beautiful woman to go out with, to secretly take on business trips, to make their friends jealous, but most of all, they get mind-blowing sex. The kind of sex their wives couldn’t even dream of competing with. Of course, their wives are busy running the house, organizing the help, raising the kids, planning fund-raisers.
I don’t have to do any of that crap. I spend my days making myself irresistible to their husbands. I get massages, facials, manicures, tennis coaching. I work out with my personal trainer four times a week. I make sure I’m the kind of woman a rich man will risk everything to be with, except that there’s no risk. I’m discreet, I never make a scene, I never ask them to leave their wives, I never call them at home, I never get pregnant. They know this, and they appreciate it.
With all this, you’d think I’d be quite something to look at. You’d be right.
I’m 5’7″, with long legs, curvy hips, a narrow waist and spectacular breasts. My mother was Brazilian and I have her tan skin, luscious black hair, bedroom eyes and full, pouting lips. I’m a total knock-out.
This week, I’m on a business trip in Milan with one of my boyfriends. He’s in boring meetings all day, so I’ve been doing what I do second-best. Shopping.
I’m going to tell you what happened to me this afternoon.
I’d already hit his credit cards hard, and was thinking about a manicure, when, down a narrow side street, I spotted some beautiful lingerie in a small shop window. I wanted something new for this evening – none of my boyfriends ever see me in the same underwear twice – so I headed down there.
It was one of those exclusive stores where you usually need an appointment, but when the saleswoman saw me coming towards her with my Prada and Gucci shopping bags, she quickly unlocked the door.
She was a little taller than me, slender, blonde, pretty, with stunning gray-blue eyes, and wearing a slim black skirt and white blouse. A tape measure was draped around her neck.
“Entrare, entrare, cosa posso mostrare?” she asked.
“Do you speak English?”
“Of course, of course,” she replied in a sexy accent, “come in, what can I show you?”
“I’d just like to browse, if that’s okay?” I said.
“Naturally,” she said, “coffee?”
I accepted, and before she turned to the little espresso machine behind the counter I noticed her look me up and down. Maybe just a professional assessment of my lingerie size, but maybe a little more.
“This could be interesting,” I thought.
I began to browse the elegant assortment of lacy panties and bras arranged tastefully on gilt baroque-style shelving. As I came to the exquisite window display that had first drawn my attention, the saleswoman appeared with a tiny cup of coffee. She placed it on a small ornamental table and nodded towards the bustier I was admiring. It was white, with lace trim and pink ribbons between the cups and at the hips.
“Is very pretty, no?” she asked.
I nodded agreement.
“You would like to try?”
“Yes,” I said, “I think I would.”
She led me towards the dressing room at the back of the store, and through a velvet curtain. The room was tastefully luxurious, with a large velvet chaise, a few ornate chairs, a drinks cabinet and mirrors on all sides. There were lots of tightly-spaced shelves with prettily-packaged boxes of lingerie.
I kicked my shoes off and stepped up onto the raised center circle.
“May I measure you?” she asked.
“Of course,” I replied. I shrugged off my light jacket and handed it to her. She arranged it carefully on a hanger, then turned back to me.
Normally, a shop assistant will give a customer privacy while they undress, but not this girl. She stood and watched as I unzipped my short dress and stepped out of it, revealing a black lacy bra and thong combo. I handed the dress to her, and she draped it over a chair back, without turning her gaze away from me. Her eyes were fixed on my breasts as I reached my arms behind and unsnapped the bra. I tossed it onto the chair and stood before her, my large, firm breasts bared to her. I swear she only just managed to stop herself licking her lips, and my nipples tingled at the thought.
She took her tape measure and stepped up to the dais I was standing on. I raised my arms, and as she reached around me with the tape, her lips almost brushed my nipples. Her fingers did touch them as she measured across my bust, and they immediately stiffened. Next she lowered the tape to measure under my breasts, and as her fingers grazed the underside, the tingle spread down between my legs. She measured my waist, but then the tape slipped from her fingers. She knelt in front of me to loop the tape back around to measure my hips, and her face was just inches from my crotch. I knew she could see my bare pussy lips through the flimsy fabric of my panties. I wondered if she could smell my growing arousal.
She stood and made a note of my measurements on a little pad, then pulled a box from a shelf. She pulled out the bustier, handed it to me, then stepped up behind me. I carefully placed the cups over my breasts, and she reached around me to take hold of the back sections. In one of the many mirrors, I saw her lean in and smell my hair.
She carefully did up all the fasteners, then I turned towards her. I tugged down on the garment slightly, adjusting until my breasts filled the cups evenly. She reached up and adjusted them sideways, and there was a tiny spark of static electricity as she touched me. We locked eyes for an instant.
“You would like to try, um, how you say, panties?” she asked.
I nodded, and she turned to retrieve the correct size from the shelves. I pulled off my panties, and once again saw her watching intently in the mirror. She handed me the flimsy garment and I stepped into them. This time, she didn’t even try to conceal her gaze as my lifting legs revealed my most intimate parts. The fabric didn’t do much to cover my pussy, and the string disappeared between my lips, only emerging high up between my ass cheeks. It was very pretty, and I felt incredibly sexy in the ensemble.
“What do you think?” I asked her.
“Is perfect!” she said.
I turned to show her from behind, and she gave a small sigh. “Your man will like it very much – I don’t think you will wear it for very long!”
We both laughed. “Do you wear the underwear you sell here?” I asked.
“Yes indeed,” she replied, “you would like to see?”
“Yes indeed,” I smiled.
Biting her lip shyly, she unbuttoned her blouse to reveal a white bra with lace trim. The cups were sheer, clearly showing her erect nipples and pale aureolas. I stepped forward and gently ran my fingers across the lace top, slightly stroking her soft skin.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, “Matching panties?”
She unzipped her skirt and let it drop to her feet.
The panties did indeed match, the sheer material showing a neat patch of hair above shaved lips.
“May I see the bra closer?” I asked.
She hesitated until she took my meaning, then unclasped it and let it fall away from her perky little tits. She handed it to me, but I simply tossed it aside without looking at it and placed my hand on her left breast. I leaned in and kissed her, a full open-mouthed kiss, and she responded eagerly. Our tongues wrapped around each other, and I gently nipped at her lips with my teeth. She grabbed the bottom sides of my bustier and sharply pulled downwards, freeing my breasts. Our nipples pressed together and we kissed even more passionately.
She broke free from the kiss, and bent to take one of my nipples between her lips, sucking and biting deliciously. I ran my fingers through her blond hair and pulled her face harder into me.
Her hand stroked up between my thighs, up to my panties. Her probing fingers quickly pulled the fabric aside and slipped into my wetness. I moaned and pushed my hips forward into her hand.
She quickly straightened, and grabbing my hand, led me over to the chaise. She pushed me back onto it by the breasts, and sank to her knees, her hands quickly finding the waistband of my panties. I lifted my ass, and she had them off in a flash, then quickly parted my knees, revealing my shaved, wet pussy in all its glory.
She muttered something in Italian, then buried her face in my cunt, pushing her tongue inside me. I let out an involuntary gasp, and she ran her tongue up to my clit and sucked hard.
“Oh God!” I cried out, “Yes!”
My hands leaped to my breasts and I pinched and twisted my nipples, sending shivers of pleasure radiating outwards across my body.
She slipped two fingers inside me, probing around, thrusting, fucking, and her thumb pressed against my asshole. She licked up and down my lips, sucking and gently biting. She turned her fingers upward, pressing on my g-spot and rubbing it, causing me to start rhythmically rolling my hips.
I grabbed her hair, and pulled her back up to my face. We kissed again, and I could taste my pussy juices on her. I thrust my hand inside her panties and pushed my fingers into her, lifting her as hard as I could. I pushed her above me, until her nipple was in my mouth, and her thigh pressed hard between my legs.
I sucked hard on her, at the same time thrusting my hips to rub my clit on her leg. I kept on finger-fucking her tight cunt, and her hand found my left nipple, tugging hard on it. My thumb found her clit, and I rubbed around above it until I felt her take a sharp intake of breath, and I knew I’d found the magic spot. I started rubbing back and forth, my fingers still inside and her nipple still in my mouth. She let go of my breast, and supported herself with her hands on my shoulders, focusing on the rising tide of orgasm, rocking her leg back and forth on my clit.
Her breaths became shorter and I sped up the rubbing. She began to make little grunts. With my other hand, I pushed a finger into her ass, and bit her nipple, and that pushed her over the edge. She let out a long, quivering wail, and her body shuddered up and down. She went completely rigid and her breath caught in her throat, holding for about five ecstatic seconds, then she collapsed on top of me, panting.
My orgasm was really close from rubbing on her thigh, and I quickly pushed her head back down between my legs. She licked hard and fast, her fingers fucking my dripping cunt with all their might. I looked down at the incredible vision before me – this sexy blonde Italian girl lapping at my pussy, on her knees, her beautiful ass in the air. I felt the orgasm rising, and thrust my hips up at her. She got the message and licked and fingered harder, until it hit me. It was a hard, deep, full-body orgasm that left my fingers tingling, and stars flashing in my vision.
I relaxed my hips, and she stopped licking, but kept her lips on my pussy. She withdrew her fingers and licked me sensuously up and down a few times, finally coming up and settling her head on my breasts, her arms around me. I softly stroked her hair and down her back to her ass.
We lay that way for a few minutes, until eventually she lifted herself off, gave my nipples one final kiss, and began to gather up the discarded clothing. I watched her sweet ass as she bent to pick up each item. She brought me my underwear, and held up the bustier.
“You would like?” she asked, coyly.
“I’ll take it!” I laughed.