The woman who responds is tall and slender, and doesn't so much walk as flow toward you. She carries only a single bag and a warm, beautiful smile. She offers her hand when she reaches you, and you can't help but kiss it.
"You are my host with the Foundation?" She carries almost no accent.
"Yes. Do you have any other bags?" She nods and follows you to baggage claim. Like a gentleman, you carry both her bags to your car and open the door for her. During the long ride home, you watch out of the corner of her eye as she watches the world around her in unabashed awe. As you move out of the city and into the countryside toward your house, she seems enamored by the thick forest that made you choose to build there.
"You have a beautiful home," she says at last when you pull up. You thank her, knowing that it's true. You spent quite a bit of money making sure you'd have a large, comfortable, and - most importantly - private home. You notice she sends a text message as you collect her bags from your trunk.
She flashes a disarming smile and answers your unspoken question. "Letting my husband know I arrived safely. He sent me a message while I was in flight that his first guest had arrived."
"Have you done this before?" She seems so confident and trusting. Inside, you're nervous as hell.
"This is our third year in the Experiment," she answers matter-of-factly. "This is your first?" You nod an affirmative.
"Then let me lead you through this. It is likely why I was paired up with you first." She follows you into your home and you lead her to the master bedroom. She runs hands over furniture, taking it all in. She eventually walks to the window, which overlooks the swimming pool and hot tub, and provides the only window that can see your nearest neighbor's home at all.
"May I have a swim first? I find it helps me relax after a long flight."
"Sure. I'll step out and let you change," you say, setting her bags on the bed and turning to leave.
"Why are you leaving? I can see how private this place is and I did not pack any swimming clothes." She again flows toward you. "Please, lead me to the pool outside." Her smile is so warm and honest, just like Silvia's. You can't help but relax around Titi.
As soon as she sees the size of the pool up close, she laughs happily and begins to shed her clothing. She wears no undergarments under her top, and her breasts are small and perky, with dark nipples already pointing outward. She catches your eye and playfully pinches her nipples. Her skirt slides down next, leaving her in a pair of white bikini panties.
"Am I going to be swimming alone?" she asks as her thumbs hook into the waistband of her panties. You laugh and start to strip, thanking any gods that might exist that you've kept yourself in shape. Your penis is straining against your boxers by the time you get your pants off. As you tug the offending undergarments down, you hear a splash and look to the edge of the pool, where Titi's panties lie discarded at the edge of the pool.
Your boxers join them as you dive in and chase after the dark, swiftly-moving shape just beneath the water's surface. |