Page 104 of The Naughty List

She’s right, Iamon a dash for cash mission. Even now, with my bank balance looking like a gift from the stars, I’m still holding onto my work ethic – no matter what extremities that work ethic might entail.

“I’m not too knackered for a hot party with a load of guys,” I say. “Not yet, anyway.”

“When is it?”

I check out the calendar onscreen. “Friday.”

“Friday. Cool. Getting fucked by eight guys. Nice. Then it’s our party on Saturday. And that’s going to be it, right? You’re set for your holiday. Don’t run yourself into the ground, babe. You’ll have a hangover for three days straight after our celebrations.”

I hold my hands up. “Yeah. This will be it, for sure. Last gig before my holiday.”

I only hope it’s another five-star review to add to my perfect record. I need to get practicing to make sure my ratings are top notch, and I do. I choose my outfit from my wardrobe. Multi layers of hot gothic chic, with stockings and suspenders on underneath. A lingerie set worthy of a strip show. A tight bodice that pulls loose from the back. A short flared skirt that’ll shimmy down nicely, and a new set of platform shoes from my growing collection.

My sexy outfit doesn’t stop me feeling like a goofy idiot as I put on some Christmas tunes and practice a strip show in front of my mirror. I have myself in stitches a few times as my skirt gets caught around my knees as I bend over, trying to be alluring as I bob my ass up and down. Nope, I’m definitely not made for twerking. I keep it simple instead, take it slow as I reveal all. That looks much better. By the end of the evening, I’ve got it down.

As down as I’m likely going to get it, anyway…

I head out next morning to buy a new coat – since my old, trusted favourite got trashed by cow shit. It feels insane to be looking in high-end shop windows, knowing I can afford the luxury of whichever coat I choose. I opt for another leather one, long and belted, but this one feels so much better as I try it on in the changing room. So heavy and thick. It smells glorious. And it should be, given the cost of it. It’s over £400.

No matter how prepared I am, I flinch as I see the price come up on the card reader, the memory of eating pasta on loop still lurking in the depths. I still feel almost guilty about buying it, having to remind myself that this is a coat for work, as well as for me. I’ll be wearing this bad boy for my strip show on Friday night. Just two more days to go.

I put in a load more hours ofpracticebefore then, viewing online tutorials to help me shake my butt like a pro. I manage a catwalk style totter, looking authentic in my heels, and even manage to twirl like a sexy ballerina, shooting a glance full of want in the mirror as I spin.

I’m buzzing when the cab arrives at mine on Friday evening. I’m ready to go, dressed up to the max in my gorgeous outfit, my hair slick and long, and my makeup fit for a showgirl. My beauty and skin products have definitely been worth the investment, and so has my growing wardrobe. I feel on top of the world as I step up to the doors of CR Corporate once the cab’s dropped me off.I look up at the office building, and it’s dark, besides one floor where the windows are flashing green, red and blue. Ok, so I guess I’m at the right location. I clickarrivedas I stand outside.

The instruction pings through in an instant.

Third floor, head on up.

There’s a solitary guy minding the reception desk. He’d be quite a beef of a boy in his dark uniform, if he wasn’t wearing a silly Christmas hat with a goofy smile.

“Party’s up there,” he says, and points to the stairs. “Half of them are probably passed out by now.”

I hope that’s not the case as I make my ascent. The more eyes on me the better, after all the work I’ve been putting into rehearsals.The more cocks ready to fuck me, bonus on top.I’m becoming such a horny cow I want to be on it 24/7. No joke.

I push through the double doors to their office with a shout ofHEY, GUYS!and everyone in the place turns to face me. Some of them are wearing tinsel around their necks as ties, some of them in pom pom Christmas hats. One of them has Rudolph antlers on his head and his shirt already off, grooving to the beat ofMerry Christmas, Everyone.

The office desks and chairs have been pushed away from the centre to allow for a makeshift dancefloor, but the sales score boards are still up on the walls. There we have it, in a nutshell.

This is a sales team’s office. And these guys are the team members. The whole room thumps with their demeanour.And natural competition.

It makes no odds who User 2155 is amongst the crowd right now. They all let out a cheer as I step up to the ‘dancefloor’ to join them, clearing out of the way to give me some space as I twirl.

There’s a Christmas tree in the corner. I head on over there and the guys gather before me, eight pairs of eyes giving me their full attention.

I feel like the hottest girl on the planet as I shrug my coat off and let it slip to the floor. I’ll be their gothic, Christmas disco queen tonight, no problem at all.

“Santa, baby!” one of the guys shouts, and dashes on over to change the track.

I cheer along with the guys as the song starts up, the tune drowning out the remnants of nerves in my stomach. Here we go… time for the grand strip performance. I’m ready, and it’s time to show it.

I strut from guy to guy like I’m on a catwalk, giving each of them a hot pout and a needy flutter of my lashes. The first in line is an average kind of hot guy in a suit, mid brown hair. Nice, but not memorable. Guy number two is the shirtless one, dancing to the tune in his Rudolph antlers as he pumps his fists in the air. Guy number three is hot. Like really hot. Brooding dark eyes and a smirk on his face that gives me flutters. My gaze lingers on him for too long, which is unfair, so I give his tie a flick and force myself on by. I take the tinsel from the neck of the fourth guy, and wrap it around my own like a scarf, making sure I give him a decent flash of my cleavage as a thank you. Guy five is short, but cute, and has to be late fifties. He’s grey and balding, but that doesn’t stop him taking hold of my ass and giving it a squeeze. Guys six and seven have to be brothers. They’re virtually identical. Tall and slim, with the same light blond hair, catching the colours of the disco lights like a dream. And guy number eight… he has to be User 2155. He looks so pleased with himself as he stands there with his arms folded, nodding his head like I’m another achievement on their target board.

I like User 2155. Stocky and confident. Serious and firm.

I step up close, drop to a crouch and work my hands up his body as I rise, grinding against his thigh as the other guys cheer for him – but he doesn’t get me for long. I spin, then step along to the brothers at his side, jiggling my cleavage as a tempter. The older team member next to them grabs my ass all over again. I use his hold to squirm against his crotch, and he’s hard. I can feel him.

It’s turning me on already.

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