You call an audible

"Hold on," you say. Abby is already standing and she looks bewildered. The goal you 2 had set out to achieve is near completion and she must be wondering what you're doing. This was not what you'd rehearsed.

"What is it?" Abby asks through gritted teeth, trying to contain her displeasure.

"It's great that Sasha is agreeable to doing this, but are we sure Vladimir will take to her?" you say.

"Look at her! She's a peach! Beautiful and Russian, that's what he demanded. Beautiful? Check. Russian? Da!" Abby exclaims.

"Yes, but no offense to Sasha, Vladimir's former wife used to be was a lingerie model," you say, recalling the factoid from your made up story.

"You saw her pictures online! She has the body to back it up. Right, Sasha?" Abby says.

The Russian social media influencer immediately stands and nods. "Yes, I assure you, I'm in good shape," she says, turning left and right to let you get a better look at her.

"Well, a lot of people photoshop their images before posting them online for the likes and-"

"Excuse me," Abby says to Sasha as she interrupts you and grabs you roughly by the arm. "We'll be right back." Abby drags you out of the lounge into a hallway where Sasha can't hear you 2.

"I know what you're up to. Seriously? You can have your pick back at the estate. We can even go out and find someone new to sign a contract, and you want to have her? What is it with men? God knows I adored Nigel but he was the same!" Abby whines in a harsh whisper.

You look sheepishly at Abby, giving her your best puppy eyes and not saying a word as she fumes. Eventually, she exhales heavily through her nostrils before shaking her head. You're standing close enough to feel the warm air. "I'm going to downstairs to the business center to type up a contract. Be done by the time I get back," Abby says, wagging a finger in your face.

"Or what?" you ask cheekily with a smile and a wink. However, Abby's in no mood and she leaves in a huff.

With Abby out of the way, you return to the lounge where you find Sasha with her shirt unbuttoned. She has a skinned colored camisole underneath the shirt and judging from the 2 points sticking out at you, she doesn't have a bra on.

"See?" Sasha says, turning again to let you appraise her body. Her waist is definitely model-thin and the jeans are hugging her body tightly enough that she couldn't possibly not be as slim and well-toned as her pictures on social media, but you still feign indecisiveness.

"What? Come on? You think Vladimir will not be pleased? Are you pleased?" Sasha asks, seemingly offended. For a second, you think you might have overplayed your hand, when her hands go to the button on her jeans and she undoes it and pulls the zipper down. She then proceeds to kick off her 3 inch heels and tugs the jeans off her legs, revealing a matching pair of skinned-color panties with shiny sequins on it. Again, she turns around, this time sticking out her tight little ass at you. She allows you a few moments to admire her behind before she turns back around to look at you.

You shrug while clamping your lips tightly together, refraining from smiling. Your seeming indifference works as Sasha smirks and utters "fine" and then a phrase in Russian that you don't understand. She shrugs off the sleeves of her shirt and lets it fall to the floor, and then she reaches for the hem of her camisole and pulls it over her head. It gets stuck momentarily, which gives you a great view of the magnificently round and perfect globes on her chest. Sasha finally gets the camisole off and she drops it on top her shirt, placing her hands proudly on her hips which makes her breasts stand out even more prominently. They seem to defy gravity and as you look her up and down, you can tell she barely has any fat on her. This is a body that has had hours spent in the gym on and Sasha could definitely be a lingerie model if she wanted to. You dare say she could walk the Victoria Secret's fashion show.

"So?" Sasha asks tauntingly with a wide smile. She knows she looks fantastic nearly naked. She tilts her head down slightly and raises an eyebrow, causing you to look down at the tent forming in your pants. Well, she knows you're pleased at what you see.