"Great," I thought, "that starts out just great." I stood up and put my hands on my hips, swaying them a little in the long flowery white dress I was wearing. "Look," I said sternly, if a little pissed, "if you want to do this, then this is how it works: You want me to teach you how to have sex, then you'll do the fuck what I tell you. I can't handle prissy and I can't handle squeamish, so if you want to be like that, look for another woman who will put up with it. It's not going to be me." She fell quiet, but finally got up as well and pulled her sweater over her head determined. Underneath, she wore a white bra with red hearts on it, which held her small-ish, breasts in place. After she threw the sweater onto her bed, she unhooked the bra and slipped it off as well. I was right, her tits were small, but ...full, with some incredibly perky nipples. It seemed her whole areola was hard. She began wiggling her hips as she pushed off her pants, along with her panties, and finally stood. "It has to be communicated through exposition," she said. "For example, if I were to say that we just met in the hotel bar an hour ago, and that I'd picked up on you, and that it was all my idea to come up here to my room." "I guess that does fill in the blanks a bit." Robert frowned. Something about this conversation seemed very odd to him. "Something about this conversation seems very odd to me," he said, and then he blinked. "I don't know why I just said that. I mean, it's true, but the exact way I said it, it feels... artificial? As though they weren't really my words at all, but ones that someone else picked for me? So strange..." Robert swallowed half his wine at once, feeling selfconscious. Charlotte smiled without showing her teeth. "I'm sure it's just my imagination," he said. "Certainly," Charlotte said, setting her glass down and moving to the bed. She was tall, with wide hips, small breasts, and long dark hair. Her red dress fit like a second skin. "Have you.
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