First guests

Taking a deep breath to compose yourself, your walk to the door, wiping your damp palms against your skirt. At the door you glance back at your landlord, who leans against the wall, watching you with a sardonic smile. You bite your lip and take another deep breath, then put a flirty smile on your face and open the door.

"Bonjour," you say. "Please to come in. M'sieur Berridge is expecting you."

The couple who stand in the door way share a quick glance and a smile, then step into the room as you hold the door open. Closing it behind them you stand ready to take their coats, looking them over as you wait.

They appear to be in their late thirties, both well, if casually dressed. The man is compact, probably no more than five-eight, but with a muscular grace to his movements. His face is angular, with prominent cheekbones, and eyes set deep in his head. The woman is your height, her auburn hair falling about her shoulders. Her hazel eyes roam over you as she takes off her coat, her lips curving in a secret smile as she does. She's a touch plump, but by no means fat, and the skinny jeans she wears cling to a a pair of well shaped legs. Her breasts are ample, if not as big as your own, and bulge the silken top she wears delightfully.

"Oh, she's delightful Tom!" she says to your landlord, nodding at you with approval and evident interest. You blush faintly and manage a brief curtsey as you take both of their coats and trip away to hang them up. You glance back to see the newcomers glancing after you, and can't resist swaying your hips a little, finding yourself excited by their interest and attention.