Let me first describe Priscilla. Dark eyes, long thin face, long black shiny hair, she was of indeterminate age. The slightly hooked nose and large red lips gave her a very Iranian look. Undoubtedly an Arab, she was, in fact, Australian of Egyptian descent. Dressed as he first saw her wearing a long, red, albeit low cut dress, other than her face, it was not possible to determine the beauty of what lay underneath.

The uniform consisted of a white hat, green one piece mini skirt with a white mini apron. The skirt was not quite long enough to completely cover a pair of black knickers protruding though which were the white frilled edge straps of a suspender belt. Her stockings were skin coloured and pulled tightly up to about three inches short of the tops of her thighs revealing just a little bare flesh in the adjacent zone between. On the end of her legs were fitted a pair of dark stiletto shoes augmenting the former’s already well proportioned length.

As there was no actual stage, he sat on the floor so as to give the bed the impression of a podium. A mirror was on the wall to the left. To the right was a series of steps leading to a shower cubicle. Although not theatrical the lighting was soft and balanced and in keeping with intention of the room. After a initial little trouble with the music, Priscilla made her entrance and began to stride the imagined catwalk up and down across the line in front of the bed. She mounted the steps allowing the rear suspender to pull tight across the skin of her posterior augmenting the curvature of the latter.