“Are you ready princess?” His voice turned me away from where I’d been anxiously stirring the stock pot. “Our guests will be arriving soon. Sarah will take over from here, you’ve got a more important job to do.” A thrill of nervousness and anticipation shot through me. He walked towards me, and started to untie the knot of my light cotton robe. He pulled the fabric open, resting it against my skin momentarily, stroking my hip bone with his roughly textured thumb.
He slid the robe off my shoulders, and I let him, watching somewhat numbly as it dropped to the floor. I stepped awkwardly out of the puddle of fabric it left at my feet, careful not to get my heels caught (Sarah had made me practise), or scuff them on one another. I looked up at his face apprehensively, sneakily, and watched him studying me. The black patent heels (Sarah’s choice), seamed stockings (the same), and the most ridiculously frothy white lingerie (thank god the salesgirl hadn’t checked in on us while Sarah was “helping me decide”). He grinned and dug around in his pocket momentarily, and pulled out a shiny gold lipstick case.