Athena's Story Ch 8

Athena thinks it over for a moment, then sighs. “No. I think she needs a friend.”

“I love you so much. Hey, I’m naked. If you were here, what would you do to me?”

“I’d, um, whisper in your ear about how bad you are at phone sex,” Athena says. “But I’d use a sexy voice.”

“Ha! I get off on being belittled.”

“Since when?”

“Since right now. Do it more.”

“Oh my god, are you—” Yup, Sal’s touching herself.

Athena watches her face for a moment. Sal wants her to ask to see more. Athena’s pride is still the dominant force inside her, and she won’t take the bait. Besides, Sal’s face is pretty sexy.

“Hey. How long can you go?” Athena asks.

“What do you mean?” Sal already sounds a little husky.

“You know, if you take your time. Drag it out. Make it a big one so you can make some funny faces for me.”

“Do you mean edging? Because it’s called edging.”

“Whatever. Let’s do that. You’re gonna show me a big o-face. Big one.”

Sal’s smile becomes a wide grin. “OK, babe. Mmm. OK.”

Athena swallows. It’s working. It’s actually working. She slides her hand between her legs.

ATHENA'S STORY

“You’re late,” Dulcita says, a little sternly, as Sal climbs into the limousine. Annette ignores them, deep in her laptop.

“Sorry. My wife needed me to do something. Took a while. Where are we going?”

“Do you not read your emails?” Annette asks grumpily.

“I read them like two hours ago.”

“OK, this thing where you feel like there are boundaries and work-life balance, you need to let that go,” Annette says, looking up from her work. “When we’re doing this part, the part where we travel the world and spend shit-tons of money, you are glued to your phone and staying current. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mommy,” Sal says meekly.

“Be professional,” Dulcita chides mildly, poking her with an elbow.

“Sorry. I’m in a good mood.”

“We can see that.”

“Why do you two smell so good?” Sal asks suspiciously.

“You’d know if you read your emails,” Annette says, face lit by her screen.

ATHENA'S STORY

The destination is a resort or spa; Sal is doing more traveling than she’s ever done in her life, but she’s no closer to understanding how things work in Europe. There’s no time for tourism. Annette and Dulcita smell good because they know what they’re walking into; they’re groomed and used body butter, and are probably fortified with a drink or two.

The sun is bright. Some of the women in the private pool area are nude, but most are merely topless. Drinks flow, and quiet conversation is masked by trickling water and soft music.

There’s a momentary adjustment to seeing so many breasts, but Sal isn’t bothered by them. She’s not bothered by Annette, either. Having her own chest bare in the sunlight is surprisingly easy. Dulcita is the problem, and Sal isn’t sure why.

These women are all seriously rich, and they have no difficulty turning their sandals and bikini bottoms into fashion statements. Many wear wide-brimmed hats, which seem practical under the fierce sun.

Sal is too nervous to be self-conscious. She has her job to think about as she follows Annette and Dulcita. Annette is just a woman, but Dulcita is an elemental being of pure, supple eroticism. It doesn’t matter that Sal was cumming her brains out less than two hours ago. She hasn’t wanted to touch someone this badly since college.

Dulcita’s magnificently swaying hips take her to an umbrella, under which sit three women making maximum effort to be hot and glamorous. They have no tan lines, and their bronzed bodies shine, smooth and flawless. Sal’s come a long way, but she still can’t afford sunglasses like the ones these women wear.

Annette “Sal, I want you to meet Irina Orlova. Irina, this is Salome Dupont.”

The woman in the middle leans forward and removes her sunglasses. She’s around Annette’s age. It looks like she’s had her neck and chin done. Her accent is thick, but her English is perfect. “You’re the woman who will decide the look for a totally visual business. No pressure.”

“Ms. Orlova has expressed interest in getting involved with new FUTA projects,” Annette explains.

Dulcita sees Sal’s hesitation and takes her arm, leaning in. “This money would change everything.”

This is outside Sal’s comfort zone, yet she also understands that she’s playing on a level now that doesn’t care about her nerves, her sensibilities, or the rules of professionalism. They’re above all of that. In the government, there’s a big difference between all the hot air and wasted time done in public and the meaningful conversations that no one ever hears about. They want her to make an impromptu sales pitch that will bring this woman and her money onboard.