The Interview (The Hotwife Coach, #1)
blushed a little. It was more than that. I knew that Ken would find it an incredible experience. He fantasised about watching, or at least being told about it afterwards. I’d found his pornography collection on computer a month or so earlier. Categorised carefully, of course. Much of it pretty ordinary but the largest file being a whole series of cuckold images. I’d teased him about it afterwards, and we’d had an unusually hot afternoon in bed that Saturday.
    Max looked a little disapproving.
    “Pour the tea, would you, Emma?”
    Already, I craved his approval. Wanting to prepare tea exactly to his preference. He sensed that immediately.
    “Just try to be calm. We’re just getting to know one another.”
    “I want you to understand clearly how my hotwife coaching works, Emma. This isn’t about pleasing Ken - or any of the husbands whose wives I’m working with. This is about your pleasure. And the pleasure you’ll give to the men I introduce you too, of course. You’ll begin to understand that as we progress. You want to feel pleasure again, don’t you, Emma?”
    His words were so gentle. No-one would have imagined the subject matter if they’d simply listened to his tone. As if teaching some complex mathematical method to a student kept behind for extra tuition.
    I nodded.
    “I don’t want to appear selfish, Max.”
    “Mr Hatfield,” he corrected. “I think Mr Hatfield sets things out more appropriately.”
    I blushed again. Ashamed of myself for overstepping the mark.
    “I’m sorry. Mr Hatfield. I don’t want to appear selfish, but yes. I would like to feel pleasure. Properly. It’s been a very long time.”
    He asked me about fantasies.
    “You do fantasize, I assume?”
    More blushes, although less so this time. Somehow, speaking with him felt easy. He was clearly in control and I found myself relaxing as I began to explain some of the thoughts I’d been letting my mind wander to lately.
    There hadn’t been much that I’d not fantasised about in truth. I’d taken to returning to bed in the mornings once Ken had left for work. Settling in with a favourite author’s latest erotica on my e-reader. Enjoying the anticipation of hot stories curling themselves into my mind. Allowing myself to delight in the thought of strong, knowing men taking me roughly and without protection. Imagining myself as nothing other than an object of desire. Men - sometimes one, sometimes more - being unable to resist and yet taking me to the very edge of wanting them too before giving in to my insatiability.
    I’d never explained any of this to anyone.
    “This is the first time I’ve told anyone these things. I’m sorry. Is that too explicit?”
    Another correcting glance.
    “Emma, nothing is ever too explicit for me to hear. If I’m going to coach you, it’s essential that you’re honest. I need to know that I can rely on that. My coaching is very much about creating the pleasure that you crave. You’ll find later that those first fantasies will be nothing in comparison to the ones you’ll discover under my guidance.
    “You do understand that, Emma? That you’re going to learn some very interesting things about yourself during your time with me?”
    He pressed the intercom button before allowing me time to answer.
    “Daisy. Could you take Emma’s measurements for me, please?”
    He instructed me to strip to my underwear.
    I sighed with relief at my decision to wear matching bra and panties.
    “Just pop your clothes on the chair there.” He nodded towards the edge of his office as Daisy entered with a clipboard and tape measure and he turned his attention to the paperwork on his desk.
    Daisy smiled gently. “Don’t worry, angel. I just need to measure you for your uniform. Mr Hatfield has very exacting standards.”
    They both seemed so casual about the situation. Taking my vulnerability in their stride, as if it were just a small rite of passage towards being accepted for coaching. Which of course was

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