The Strutting Cockerel! My visit was very short-lived. So much for a night of flirting and frolics with Beth. I never even sipped my g and t or got a chance to eye up the local talent. I know, though, that work is important and the call from the office meant I had to go straight back. I hailed a taxi and headed away from the harbour haunts to the bright lights of the Granite City.

A quick introduction is needed. I'm Chastity, Chas to friends. What my parents were thinking of when they named me, I can't fathom at all.

Originally, I'm from Glasgow. The nickname was obvious, wasn't it?

Titty!

A real misnomer as I was a late developer. I had two choices. I could let it bother me or I could laugh the whole thing off, and join in with the joke. I chose the latter. The fact that I was a really good footballer at a time when girls weren't encouraged to play, certainly made me “one of the boys”. I was popular with the girls too, cause I could help them deal with any boys they fancied. Things changed in my senior year. I earned my nickname. My patience was rewarded with beautiful, firm boobs, dark areolas and very prominent nipples. A very full, golden bush completed the set. Let's just say my teammates treated me very differently, although they never got a look let alone a feel. My treasures were not for mere boys.

Fast forward: I’m thirty, blue-eyed, blonde, married, and I'm a personal assistant to the boss of a big oil company. He's not around most of the time, and I have an important job to do.

The call was to let me know he'd arrived back in the city, unexpectedly, late this afternoon and my presence was needed.

I thought of Beth in her DTD mode and hoped she was having fun. Some background info for you.

I recognised in Beth feelings of frustration, boredom and loneliness. I'd been there too but not any more. I'm sure you'd like to hear how I amended the situation.

I'm married to Tony, who is married to his job, which takes him away a lot, like Beth's husband. We have what is termed as Vanilla sex, but I needed more. Tony had a big birthday coming up in about 10 months. I wanted something special for his birthday. I'd heard the girls talking about glamour shoots they'd done for boyfriends. My ears pricked up. Sounds perfect. I did my homework and found a studio with good reviews. It was run by females so that helped. I made an appointment and stepped into the unknown. Little did I know it would change my world.

“Posh Poses" was located in one of the beautiful grey granite mansions. When I went in, I was put at ease and handed a glass of champagne to settle my nerves. Various options and packages were explained to me. I chose Platinum. Very expensive but the Gallery of Women was stunning. I'm straight, but I was turned on. I think the thrill of looking like that released something in me.

The first stop was makeup, including false eyelashes. I wasn't permitted to look until it was completed. The result astonished me! It wasn't tarty and overdone but sultry and sexy. I loved it.

Next, lingerie for the shoot. No not nude, not the first time. I'm not that brave. I started in a baby pink lacy bra and pants, a romantic flowery background, sweet and shy. A few more changes, silky robes etc. By now I was having fun and growing in confidence, supported by the compliments of the photographer. I was encouraged to try something sexier. Absolutely!

Dark green was the colour chosen. It was a satin and lace thong with a matching demi-cup bra.

When I put it on, I gasped. So much flesh on display. In the mirrors, I could see my peachy butt completely bare except for the waistband and tiny green, jewelled butterfly. Could this sex goddess be me? Then I turned to study the front view. The wired cups pushed my very ample breasts up high. They were essentially all on show, just a hint of areola was visible.

The background shot was different. Think French Boudoir and that's it. Lots of shots, lots of compliments, close-ups of my tits and naked butt.

I was tingling by now and feeling daring, imagine my vanilla husband's reaction!

Then the question. Do you want to remove the lingerie? Didn't think for long. Off it came.

Flash followed flash, followed flash. Instructions flew at me. Lean forward, pout, lie down, bend over, open wider, legs in the air. It was more than I'd anticipated but it felt amazing and I felt so empowered.

The photographers were brilliant. They said I was a natural. They didn't do the more hardcore photography but they knew studios who did. They paid well and would take me on immediately. I thanked them and said no. Not at this time.

When I got my album and photos, I was thrilled with the outcomes. They ranged from sweet and innocent to sultry seductress revealing absolutely everything.

My eyes and face looked suggestive one minute and shy the next. My tits looked huge with the dark areolas and erect nipples smouldering against my white skin. My pussy looked Inviting, framed by my blonde bush which had been shaped into a suggestive landing strip. My legs were long and athletic and though open in some shots, my pussy remained shy. No clit shots here! These are classy pics. Ok, they're nude but... The shots of my butt were possibly the best. Round, firm and inviting a smacking! Did I say that? I’ve never been smacked, but never say never.

The album was carefully hidden. However, my curiosity was aroused and I logged on to a couple of amateur “adult sites”. It was fascinating. A whole new world was revealed to me. I struck up a friendship and conversation with an older man, Kirk, from Oregon. I told him about my pics and yes one night, when I was feeling horny and hubby was absent again, I took some of the hidden pics and sent them. Kirk loved them. He sent pics of his very aroused dick to prove it! A few days later he sent more pics. These were from his den in his house where he and his pals met daily for beer, cards and pool. There on the wall in glossy full size were my pics! He called them his wall of tits and pussy. Fuck was I turned on and thrilled at the same time. I was a pin-up!

He said his friends loved the pics. Their only complaint was they couldn't see my holes or clit. Could I send pics of fingering myself, playing with a toy, massaging my tits and nipples? I didn't oblige.

Then Kirk asked if he could use the pics for a calendar. A limited number of copies. I agreed immediately. I felt wanton and a bit of a whore. Don’t you think every female has a whore in her just desperate to be released? Why else would we have tits and tempting ways? Go back to Eve. She knew what she was doing. Most women subdue that. Pity they miss a lot of fun.

That was a few weeks ago. Kirk and I are still in touch and the calendar looks amazing. Sexy and hot.

Back to the present, now you know more about me. The taxi stopped outside the impressive offices of Scotts. I hurried inside, straight to the ladies. Remember, I wasn't wearing a bra. I retrieved it from my bag and put it on. Did you think I'd leave it off and try to seduce my boss? No, although I often have been tempted. I freshened my makeup and Perfume, Coco Chanel, and took the elevator to the fifth floor.

Mags, the receptionist, smiled and apologised for spoiling my evening. Malcolm Scott, my boss, had just returned from abroad. He had left files on my desk for my attention and would call for me soon.

I've secretly had the hots for my boss for months. Think Steve McQueen in The Thomas Crown Affair and that's my boss. You don't mess with him, hence the reason the bra went back on.

There was only one file in a large envelope on my desk, marked private and confidential. Good. Maybe I wouldn't be too long and I could continue my evening with Beth at The Strutting Cockerel.

The compliments slip, signed by Malcolm Scott, fell out, and I removed the file from the envelope.

My calendar!!

Before I had time to think, my phone rang.

“Mr Scott will see you in his office now to discuss the file he left on your desk.”