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Why not indeed. In truth, I am excited. I begin to ponder on what I can use instead. “Hey, you don’t happen to have a shawl or throw rug or something else red inside the house, do you?”
His eyes light up with delight. “Oh my God, you are a genius. My grandmother and mother went on holiday last year to Malindi, on the Eastern coast of Africa. They brought me back a red shawl – said it is the traditional Maasai clothing. I use it as a throw rug on my sofa.”
“I think that’ll do.”
“Come on then. I’m assuming you would like to freshen up yourself a bit. We’ve been on the road for a while.”
“Yes, I would love some time with your bathroom before we get started.” I grin, loving how comfortable we are with each other already. There’s always that niggling worry that what happened in a controlled environment, with aliases, might not translate in real life. But we have the same ease, the feeling of being on the same page, the same electricity when we look at each other or touch… but then there is also an added layer of knowing now, I suppose. Of choosing each other.
I have a quick pee in the bathroom, touch up my make up a bit and use a cloth to give myself a whore’s bath – just to make sure everything is minty fresh down there. I don’t know what Romano’s plans for the afternoon are, exactly, so I want to be ready for anything.
I walk out of the bathroom and find that he’s put the aforementioned shawl on the bed together with a basket. I have to giggle because how funny he is for making sure he has all the details right.
My wedding dress is long and flowing, though it hugs my figure, it reaches down to the ground and has a small train. It’s a low back dress with sleeves and a collar made of lace. Very sexy for whatever era my grandmother wore it in.
I hitch up the skirt, pinning it up at my waist so my gartered legs are on display. Changing my heels for flats, I wear the shawl around my shoulders and over my head before picking up the basket.
I peer out of the bedroom, but I can’t see my husband. I creep out, looking everywhere, but there’s no sign of him. I have to assume the role play has begun so I head to the door as fast as possible and slip out, skipping into the woods behind the house.
It’s not long before I hear him. He’s following me and not bothering to be quiet about it.
I get into the swing of things, humming a tune and skipping a bit as I pretend to pick flowers and just make my way as an oblivious fairy tale girl trying not to get eaten.
We come upon a clearing and I realize that maybe he’s been herding me here because next thing I know, he leaps, batting the basket out of my hand and pinning me against a tree.
“Where are you going, pretty girl?” his voice is almost like a growl in my ear and I shiver a little as his breath ghosts hot against my neck.
“Who are you?”
His hands are roving along my back, down my thighs and up to my belly as he makes growling noises in my ear. “I am in charge of this forest, and nobody passes through it without my permission.”
“I was just going to see my grandma. She lives in the cottage over yonder.”
“And what did you bring your grandma little girl?” his hands are moving over my belly, just below my breasts. “Did you bring her something to eat?”
“Just a loaf of bread. Please sir, let me take it to her.”
“No,” he pulled me against him, holding tight to my waist, “Not until you’ve paid my toll.”
He reaches in and nips my ear, hard, making me gasp. “And I will take a tollnow.”
I begin to shiver under his ministrations, my bosom deliberately heaving. “But I have nothing, sir!”
His hand closes on my pussy, covering it with his palm. “Is that so?” he whispers in my ear.
He cages me against the tree, and its rough bark almost scratches my cheek. “Please sir, I’m sure.” I whine, even as I begin to drip with arousal.
He presses hard against my white cotton panties. “Think hard little girl. I’m sure you know you have something I want.”
“Can I give you some bread?”
He pulls my ass tighter against him, so that the outline of his erection is pressing into my ass cheeks. “Think harder,” he growls.
“Please, sir. My grandma is waiting for me-”
He pulls at my panties, so they’re riding between the slit of my pussy.
“Sir-” I gasp, and he makes a pleased sound.
