by Carrie
Diary of A Rich Girl – Chapter 69
That evening I was at my dressing mirror combing my hair and daydreaming when Thisley interrupted my little sojourn. “Mr. Little John is on the phone, madam.” “Tell him to politely Go fuck off.” “Yes, madam.” Thisley waited for a moment, just incase I’d have a change of mind, but I had promised myself never to speak to that abominable creature again. Thisley got the message.
I reached for my black lacy panties and matching bra and slipped them on. The cups were snug and full and nicely showed my cleavage. I ran my fingers through my hair. I love my new shoulder high haircut. A quick tussle is all I need to look great.
I put a little cream on my shoulders and ran my fingers up my long neck. Primping has always given me great pleasure. I studied myself in the mirror. The straps of my bra dipped into my chest; they were taut and lifted just a hint off my full breasts. I smiled; Little John isn’t getting any of me.
I walked over to the full length mirror. My bottom was heart shaped and taut. You have the perfect body, and never let it go to waste – – that’s what Little John used to say. Then I began to daydream about the time he had picked me up in Central Park and how he got me to lift my skirt and show him my goods, and finally the ultimate seduction, letting myself get pimped and becoming his whore.
Thisley knocked again, “Vance is here, Miss Dupree.” “Seat him in the living room. You can retire for the night.” “Yes, madam. And Mrs. Dupree has gone down the beach to visit some friends for the evening.” That only made things better. “Good night, madam.”
I finally decided on an Italian body fitting black knit sleeveless t-shirt that rode a good two inches off my low rising jeans. I almost slipped into flip-flops, but decided to really kick things up by wearing black sexy high heels, odd for the beach, but still very fun. I fluffed my hair up again, and was on my way.
I made my grand entrance. The kid’s eyes nearly popped out as he rose from the couch to greet me. His clutched his camera in one hand while the other wiped itself off. Then he stretched it towards me. He instinctively moved from the couch to a chair. I took the couch for myself. I propped myself up right in the middle and tucked my good long legs under and arched my back (a little preemptive pose).
With a practiced smile for the camera I said, “Hello Vance.” My bright white teeth sparkled. He squinted as if blinded. “Uh, should we, uh, start like this?” His eyes were on my breasts as they naughtily filled my little shirt. Then he feasted on the hem of my slightly exposed lacy panty and lean sumptuous legs.
I had to wake him up, “Vance.” “Uh, yes, right. So like, uh….?” “You do have film in your camera?” I was just teasing, but he grabbed his single lens reflex, and with a worried look, inspected the counter. “Oh, yes, yes. There’s film.” Then he reached into his pocket and let out big sigh. He showed me four rolls of film. “So, Vance, just what exactly do you want to do with me?
