The Bad Boy Wants Me(150)

She patted one end of the metal table. ‘Head up here, please. We have much to do.’

‘We have?’

‘Yes, Pinkerton san is waiting.’

I sighed inwardly. I suppose I was here now, and Ivan had obviously paid a great deal of money for this experience, so here goes. He did say it would not involve anyone else but me and him.

‘Right,’ I said, taking my clothes off and folding them before putting them into the box.

‘I will go and get the fruit now,’ she said as she slipped out of the room.

It was warm in the room so at least I was not cold. Gingerly, I climbed on the silk covered metal table and lay down. First I laid my hands on my stomach and then laid my hands down my sides. I wriggled around uncomfortably.

The door opened. I lifted my head nervously, but it was only the woman returning with a very large tray. I craned my neck to look at its contents. It was filled with an array of fruit sliced so thin the pieces were almost transparent.

‘You’re going to cover me in that fruit, aren’t you?’

She smiled and followed it with that little bow she had going.

I lay back down. How sexy? I was going to be covered in cold fruit!

It was such an anticlimax that I almost giggled. If my grandma could see me now! Less sense than a wet bag of flour, she’d say. I considered hopping off the metal table and demanding that I be taken to the Gentlemen’s room so I could just down a couple of sakes before going home with Ivan. We could have sex there instead of this crazy place, but some part of me thought, what the hell. I’m here now. If it’s such a great fantasy of Ivan’s to see me dressed up in fruit, so be it.

The woman set the tray on a folding metal stand. Then she opened a little drawer and took out a plastic shower cap that she carefully fitted around my hairdo.

She looked at me with a smile. ‘Are you ready?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ I said, hoping I didn’t look as big a fool as I felt.

‘This will not hurt even a little bit. It is an ancient technique. Older than Buddha.’

I smiled at her tightly. Was she kidding me? Sticking fruit on a human body was older than Buddha?

‘Ready?’ she asked again.

I sighed. ‘Yeah, go for it.’

She put the heels of her hands firmly on the mound above my sex and started moving them in small circles.

‘Hey, hey, what are you doing?’ I asked, sitting up.

‘Be patient. This is the ancient way.’

‘Look,’ I said.

‘No pain,’ she insisted.

I opened my mouth to say thanks but no thanks, but she nodded, saying in quite a stern voice, ‘Ancient way. Must do.’

Oh sweet Jesus!

‘Try. Please. Always good to try new things. Ancient things.’ Her face was like a closed door. I was not going to win this argument.

‘Fine, fine, go on,’ I mumbled lying back down.

She carried on doing the same action. It helped that there was no expression at all on her face. It was more like being at the gynecologist. Totally unerotic. I stared at the ceiling and hoped her ancient way would soon be over.

Then a strange thing began to happen.

A slow wave of heat began lapping at me, and I started getting hot. The heat did not come from her hands, but somewhere at the base of my spine. At first I thought it was the friction of my body against the table, and then I realized that it was almost like an electric current that was running up my spine.

‘Is it OK that I’m feeling a bit … strange?’ I asked her.

She nodded. ‘Ancient way,’ she said sagely.

I swallowed. The sensations were becoming stronger and stronger. I could feel my skin getting warmer. In fact, the air in the room suddenly seemed cool compared to the heat emanating from me. To my alarm, a tingling started inside my vagina. Jesus. What the hell? I was getting turned on! I pretended to clear my throat.

‘OK. That’s enough now. Can we get on with the fruit?’ I asked with a strange tremor in my voice.

‘Body not ready. Ancient way,’ she said.

‘No, no, I’m ready.’

‘Nearly,’ she said. It occurred to me that I might climax if she carried on much more and I really didn’t want to. I thought I was here to have sex with Ivan not get into some lesbian shit.

‘Listen, there might be some mistake here,’ I said, as I felt my sex begin to contract and tighten.

‘Ah, ready,’ she pronounced.

Thank God. My skin was flushed. I could see how hard my nipples were and I could feel juices pouring out of me. She reached back into the drawer and took out a brush.

Yeah, that’s right. She dipped the soft bristle brush into me and painted my slickness onto my body. She used that as the glue to stick a fruit slice on me. It was strangely hypnotic and addictive. The smell of the fruit as she carried it from the side of my head to its destination on my body. The extraordinarily erotic sensation of being painted on with my own juices. I began to wait for the soft brush to enter me.