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She recovers quickly and looks down at her breasts, then back at me. “What does it look like I’m doing?” she asks coyly, pressing her hips forward against my erection.
I laugh at her. I can’t help it. “I know what you’re doing, Abby,” I say, pressing her arms to her sides so she’s standing like a mummy.
She frowns. “That’s good. I mean, I should hope you know what I’m doing,” she scoffs.
“No, I mean, I really know what you’re doing. Coming in here and throwing yourself at me. I know the type, and you’re not that type.”
I know risk offending her, but I don’t care. Too bad if her feelings get hurt. I want to know her motivations. Does she want to suck my dick to gain some sort of favor over her situation? Or does she really just want some nookie to bide her time here on the boat?
Maybe both?
It doesn’t matter, though. I will not be manipulated, and if she thinks she can get away with shit like this, she’s more naïve than I thought.
Her eyes fill with rage, clearly answering my question. It’s not like I don’t want to fuck the woman. I do. But I first, want to know what’s motivating her to show up in my cabin, putting on a little striptease.
“Fuckyou,” she hisses.
Yeah, she doesn’t give a damn about getting her rocks off.
“Whoa. What’s going on here?”
I look over Abby’s shoulder to see Ilya in the doorway. We never closed the door.
“Hey, man, come on in. And shut the door, will you? I don’t need the entire crew enjoying the striptease Abby is about to give us.”
“What?” she snaps, still trying to wriggle out of the straightjacket position I have her in.
Ilya’s eyebrows rise and he turns the lock on my door with a satisfyingclick. He approaches us until he’s just behind Abby, essentially sandwiching her between the two of us.
Nice.
“Now, Abby,” I say slowly, “I’m going to release your arms. Ilya and I are going to sit over there in those comfy chairs. And you are going to finish the striptease you started.”
I let go of her and she immediately turns and tries to run, but smacks right into Ilya, who puts his hands on either side of her face.
“Malishka, slow down. We’re on a boat. There is nowhere to go,” he says, running his fingers down her chest until he reaches her nipples.
He cups her breasts, running his thumbs over her hard points, and in spite of herself, she sighs, her shoulders rolling into a place of relaxation, releasing her urge to take flight.
Ah, Ilya. He’s always got the perfect touch.
“C’mon, honey,” he says softly, leading her over to the chairs. He shows her where to stand and grabs himself a seat. I am right behind him.
I take my phone and start streaming slow, sexy music to my Bluetooth speakers. Ilya waits for the show to start.
“C’mon, honey,” I say. “Let’s get the party started. This is not the time to pretend to be shy.”
“What if I don’t want to?” she asks, now playing the brat.
Damn. She has all sorts of tricks up her sleeve.
Ilya and I look at each other. “You don’t want to know,malishka,” he says impatiently.
A pink blush washes over her face, which gives me one of the hardest erections I’ve ever had. I don’t know what it is about making her realize who’s boss, but it’s fucking hot.
Not to mention fun.
Having accepted her fate, she starts shifting her hips in time to the music. Initially, she’s stiff. But when Ilya and I sit back in our lounge chairs, stretching and spreading out, she gains some confidence. She begins to run her hands over her tits, down her stomach, sliding them inside her swimsuit bottom.
