MELITA
In fact, she could, and now she needed to decide where to go from here. The initial plan had always been to gift them, admire him with them on, then rip them off. Profit. She’d gotten there in the end, and for all his sputtering she couldn’t help but giggle, waving the shorts triumphantly over her head as if they were a trophy. “It’s called skinny dipping, geeeeez,” came by way of placating, intending to gently fold them on the nearby ledge.Except now he was tugging at her bottoms. There’d been a thousand other scenarios in her head of how those actions could’ve gone, imagination running wild with him maybe skimming his teeth over the fabric and pulling them away, or slowly teasing, taunting…
Instead, the strings merely gave themselves away, folding immediately under almost no pressure. Playfully aghast, and wholly unaware of other things giving rise below the dark fathoms, she let the pieces stay in his grasp, jaw dropping for added pretenses as she strived for escape. “If that’s how it’s going to be!” Which, yes, she’d actively started – but now with tit, bits, and ass out, the game was turning into a stalemate, and she didn’t have any other options left on his end. Quick, impulsive, emboldened decisions left her laughing as she plunged down below again, intending to resurface closer to their wall and towels, gilded shorts still in hand.
This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
