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I feel Olivia watching me intently. The intensity of her gaze makes me feelwatchedin a way I never have before. I'm not a virgin by any means, but I'm usually a lights-off kind of girl. I don't do strip teases for anyone.
Olivia makes an impatient sound and then does something that shocks me. She strips her own clothes off so quickly that she beats me to it.
She stands there proud, chest out, perfect tits pointing right at me. Her nipples harden at the slight chill in the autumn air. She watches me as I hurry to get the rest of my clothes off.
"Sorry, I don't...normally take off all my clothes in a hotel room with a stranger."
Olivia stalks over to me. She has a strut like a runway model. Everything jiggles just the right amount.
"Turn around."
I turn, and as soon as my back is to her, Olivia slaps my left ass cheek, hard.
"Ow!" I cry out.
"That's for saying you're sorry. You never use those words again, do you understand?"
"I'm so-- yes, I understand."Whew, that was a close one!
My ass cheek stings as I turn to face her again. In the mirror by the bed, I see the print of her five delicate fingers on my skin in red. Gooseflesh is raised around the handprint from how hard she hit me.
She catches me looking and smiles.
"I know what I'm doing," she says. "Do you?"
Before I can answer, Olivia walks closer. She gets right up in my space, until I feel the heat from her body near my skin. Until her thigh brushes against mine. I can't resist the sharp intake of breath that happens. Olivia's features change to something much more sensual, a look that makes something clench inside me.
I'm not into women, but damn, she's beautiful. And that look would burn a hole in most men. I'm not used toanyonelooking at me like that.
She reaches up and brushes her fingertips across my breast. She gets close enough that our breasts touch, gently, and leans in to slide her full lips across my neck.
Her other hand traces its way up my inner thigh and rests on my mound. She doesn't look down, instead just exploring me with that hand. Her fingernails trace the edges of my pubic hair like she's making a map with her fingers.
"This will have to be tamed," she whispers, sultry in my ear.
I know from the way she tensed her fingers across my pussy that she means my hair down there. It’s been awhile since I've done any trimming or waxing, okay? I have blond hair you can hardly see and no one has been anywhere near my nether regions for way too long.
But someone has in my dreams…
Just the thought makes her touch feel like something else. Her fingers could be just the tips of his tentacles against my folds. I tremble, afraid if it goes on any longer, she'll feel that I'm getting wet, or worse... I'll start dripping into her hand.
The thought makes me blush even worse, and I turn away, gasping for air, unable to even look at her.
"You don't like to be touched?" she whispers. Her lips practically kiss just below my ear as she does.
"Normally, I give permission first," I say, a little tightly. It feels like I'm forcing the words out through clenched teeth.
"Do you thinkhewill ask permission? When he wants to touch his bride-to-be? Or on your wedding night? Do you think he’ll beg for your permission when he wants you? A human woman he doesn’t even want to marry? A plaything he hopes will die, like an unwanted goldfish? Do you really think that?"
"No...I guess I..." I didn't really think about it. I knew there’d be risks, and maybe I'd have to...dosome things. But being alone with a man who feels like he owns me and my body?
I never thought of that.
Part of me hoped an arranged marriage would be cold. Like a business transaction. But I can see now that I was naive.
Men in Olivia's world don't see things that way.
"Do you really think he'll see me that way? As a plaything for him to use?"
