Girl Trade - full length erotic adventure novel (Xcite Erotic Romance Novels) by Thurlow Chloe

Author:Thurlow, Chloe [Thurlow, Chloe]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Publisher: Xcite Books
Published: 2012-06-28T21:00:00+00:00

Seven

Caravanserai

THE MOMENT WE LEFT the jetty the heat hit me like a hammer striking a gong. It felt as if I had walked into an oven, a furnace, into the heart of the sun. It had been July when I was in La Gomera. By now it was surely August, the hottest month, the light piercing the thin air making it hard to breathe. The sky was a turquoise mirror without cloud, the shimmer along the shoreline creating the impression of movement where there was none. We were in the grips of stillness, of calm, of stasis, a time between times.

I used to have a pair of sunglasses and missed them now. My skin ran in rivers of sweat. Even with the assortment of new aromas wafting from town, I could smell my own smell, the scent of a woman for whom sex has become her reason to get out of bed and to make her way back to bed as soon as possible. I was both ashamed of this new me and proud of this new me. We carry contradictory feelings and emotions. I adored being naked and I was pleased concealing the secret in my new clothes.

Umah was just behind me, a sack over his shoulder. As I glanced back, he lowered his gaze. He was afraid and I took from his fear an unexpected sense of contentment. It occurred to me that my pleasure counted more to me than the boy’s anxiety, that the self-centred nature of forbidden sex makes it all the more potent, that betrayal and duplicity were merely ingredients for more and better orgasms.

I remembered a girl I had known at school telling me that when she first went up to Cambridge, her tutor was so angry at the poor quality of her first essay, he made her bend over his desk and slapped her bottom with the manuscript. She had been shocked and humiliated. It had bought tears to her eyes. She considered going to the authorities to complain, but decided wisely to sleep on it. By the time she awoke the following morning, she just found it old-fashioned and amusing.

She redid the essay, her tutor said he was satisfied, and she felt a twinge of disappointment that their meeting was brief and formal. She deliberately made a mess of her next assignment and, when she went to see her tutor, instead of wearing jeans, as she had the first time, she wore a short flared skirt. There was a complicity, a bond, an understanding. She bent over the desk, he lowered her knickers and used the flat of his hand to spank her. The game went on for the next three years, her tutor guided her education, she left Cambridge with a first and was now working at Conservative Party Central Office.

I had not believed the story when she told me, but I believed it now. I had been a prude, a tease, a quasi-virgin. Just as a yawn makes you yawn

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