Читать книгу Sex and the Stranger 2: A Mischief Erotica Collection - Justine Elyot, Victoria Blisse, Giselle Renarde - Страница 14

I had the four-inch heels in my bag again when the time came. The Esalen boys didn’t need to know everything.

Something I had no need to hide was my skirt. The blood-red silk skirt that spread out so wide, like a corona around the sun.

I’d worn it before, to fire-dance night just outside the Esalen canteen, and to shamanic journeying in the hilltop tent, when the drums rang out and we were asked to imagine falling down into a hole. It actually had tiny little bells sewn into it that made an elvish sound that you could hear tinkle when I moved. If you were very close, and if the night was still.

The skirt was long, all the way down to the ground. I had to lift the front when I walked.

I loved that skirt.

The boys loved it too. They made extra room for its extravagant layers in the van. I had many compliments from the female shaman about expressing my true nature.

They didn’t know the half of it.

‘Here it is.’

Simon opened the door to the hotel room and ushered me in with a little bow. Quite some time since I had been in the proximity of such a well-cut jacket.

That room was expensive. White and asymmetrically shaped. Big windows on a veranda that overlooked a pretty creek with ducks. We shuttered them. It had a huge bed. Firm. I tested it with a well-placed thump.

Simon busied himself while I went to the bathroom.

The secret smile was back when I came out, walking slowly inside my skirt in an attempt to create the famous ‘gliding’ effect.

‘I’m so happy you are here with me. Welcome!’ he said, very formal again. ‘Do you want to play?’

Suddenly, the thought that I had seen him somewhere before flashed through my mind. But where? In my dreams? On TV? Was there a difference?

As I was searching the memory banks, a shadow passed across his face. Had other women changed their minds at the last moment? Had they walked out on him and the expensive hotel?

‘Yes, I want to play,’ I replied, and ‘Yes!’ again. I could speak as loudly now as I wanted to.

With a single swift movement I pulled my shirt over my head.

I threw it with good aim, I thought, and it landed in a heap on the far side of the big bed, where it made an interesting contrast to the hyper-white sheets that went some way to justifying the price of the room. Maybe.

I noticed that there was a selection of black and grey silk strips laid out on the cover, precisely aligned and colour graded. And a beautiful embroidered veil.