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Megan opens up Ryan's shell and loses herself in him.
"That's quite all right. I kind of counted on it, actually. But I think Erika will be more than up to the task of satisfying any... lingering urges," she said, giving my package a firm squeeze.
"Yeah. Speaking of, where is she? Lurking around the neighborhood again, naked under a trench coat like some creepy flasher?"
"You haven't been to the bedroom yet, hon. She's waiting for you. You go have fun; I'll clean up in here and camp out on the couch tonight."
She kissed me good night, and I made for the bedroom. I smelled it as I got near - something aromatic, perfumy. As I opened my bedroom door, I saw what.
The entire room was ringed with candles of every shape and size, filling the room with a sensual glow. Several wall hangings had been added to the room's d__cor, draperies of some ephemeral material hung loosely and fluttering just from the breeze created by the opening door.
And there, lying on her side in the middle of the bed, head propped on one hand, was Erika.
Like Courtney, she had undergone a transformation through the use of costume and makeup. Most of her costume was of the same see-through fabric as the wall-hangings. She was dressed in a sleeveless blouse that bared her midriff, the pale green fabric revealing the matching strapless bra beneath it. Over her legs she wore what might technically be called pants, except that due to that same material, every curve on her body was laid bare. Her bikini-style panties matched the bra, as did the paint on her finger- and toenails. She wore layers of gawdy gold necklaces and earrings and accessories woven into her jet black hair.
I couldn't tell if she was supposed to be an Arab princess or a harem slave, and for the first time, I realized I'd never really understood the aesthetic distinction.
"Good evening, Master." That rich, smoky voice of hers, lowered in submission.
"Wow. Erika, you look... wow."
"Slave Erika thank you, Master."
I paced around my bed, inspecting her from all angles. She didn't move, not even to follow me with her eyes. She was an ornament for my bed. "I swear, between the cleaning, the decorating, and the costuming, I don't know when Courtney had time to actually teach you anything today."
"Slave Erika had only so much to learn, Master. Though she hopes to learn more, she already knows much of how to bring her master pleasure. Much of Mistress Courtney's time 'training' me was spent in each of us coming to understand our role's in Master's life."
"Oh?" I said, slipping out of my work clothes and settling in behind her in the bed. She still held motionless as I ran my hand along her side, unable to resist touching this personification of temptation.
"Yes. Master guided Slave Erika and Mistress Courtney this morning. He reminded us that Mistress Courtney is his lover. His equal, as he sees it." From her tone, she saw it otherwise but didn't wish to argue with me. "So Mistress Courtney set out to remind Master of her delight in providing him domestic tranquility. The perfect home life. A loving partner."
"She sure did." Even with Erika right here beside me, part of me still wanted to go back and give Courtney the nonstop sexathon I know she was craving. A very specific part.
"But Mistress Courtney needed to find a role for Slave Erika. And she told me exactly what she had in mind. You see," she said, reflexively spreading her legs apart as my hand strayed towards her pussy, "Mistress Courtney told me of your love-making. Of the role play. She spoke of many scenarios, but one of them stood out. She told me of when she offered to be your harem slave."
I remembered that night. Vividly, in fact. We'd gone to the beach with the guys, taking a ride on Stu's brother's boat on the lake and then laying out on the sand much of the afternoon. Something in it gave Courtney the idea of me playing the lusty sultan and her the latest addition to my harem, a perfectly trained slave girl.