Xavier had a criminal record as colourful as the bruises on his face. He had built a less-than impressive reputation for himself from fights and drug misuse to rape allegations. The townsfolk knew to stay clear of him and his family. Including kind...
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Distract him? How?
We were stranded in a hotel room in the middle of Paris. No food, no alcohol, no Netflix. He was crumbling, barely able to stand up. His body had tremors set so deep I didn't think he would ever be still again. On his face he wore a struggle and all of his veins protruded out of his hands because he kept his fist squeezed tightly closed.
Maybe I could tie him to the bed, unethical but a decent approach if I can knot it tight enough. I glanced around the room, searching for something to use but my mind came up blank. He shot a quick look at the door, ready to run.
Then an idea hit me, he liked my thongs.
"Okay, come, sit." I took his hand and gently gestured for him to sit down on the bed. I waved my hands at him, encouraging him to shimmy back against the headboard. He complied.
I stood in front of him, feeling nervous. My saliva thickened and I could feel my chest doing extra work to breathe. I'm in control, I told myself. I trusted Xavier. This is okay.
Slowly, I started teasing the material of my pyjama camisole higher. It was a champagne-coloured silk number. I had brought the nice pyjamas instead of my dads old band T-shirt's, thank god. The trimmings were black lace and it glided up my skin with ease.
"What are you doing?" He asked, his eyes wide like an owls and full of wonder.
"Distracting you." I told him, my eyes never leaving his. He swallowed, his whole Adam's apple bobbing.
"Yeah, it's working." He said slowly, watching me undress without blinking like didn't want to miss a single second.
I pulled my camisole over my head and dropped it to the floor, standing in a pastel-peach bra. It had little flowers sewn into the lace and was incredibly delicate and girly, not really a testimony to my character but I had no idea this was going to happen today.
His eyes gawked at my body, no longer holding eye contact. He was already hard, I could see his dick through his pants. As I hooked my thumb into the waistband of my matching shorts it pulsated, moved completely against the material of his joggers. He pressed down on it and grunted, like he was uncomfortable.
I dropped my shorts to floor and stepped out of them, revealing the identical panties. Pastel-peach, with girly flowers.
"You look-" his voice was gruff and he heard that so paused to clear his throat. But I liked it. It was sexy, filled with desire. I walked closer to him, climbing onto the bed with legs split either side of his. I crawled towards him slowly.
"The tape recorder-" he said in alarm, looking out across the room at the stupid recorder that sat on the far back table.
"The tape recorder is all the way over there. You can stop me, go get it if you want. But I might not be here when you get back. Or you can continue whatever this is, without it."
