The room that Belen dragged the Viscount into was small, windowless and very richly carpeted. Although it was empty now, there were piles of boxes and spare catering uniforms. Belen, with the demeanor of someone used to being the hottest girl in hospitality, said with a matter of fact grin “this must be the fingering room for the staff, when they are on break”. The Viscount blushed deeply. While he had read many articles in Young Gentleman’s Quarterly about digital penetration, he had never yet done it himself. Who was this girl so confident and in control of her sexuality?
Noticing his discomfort, and smiling a cool smile to herself, the blonde girl held out her hand and introduced herself. “I’m Belen” she said huskily, in a unique vernacular accent he didn’t recognise. The Viscount took her hand gently and kissed it. “The Rt. Hon. Buairidh” he replied, bowing. “Do you know where we are?” he asked her. She replied, “we are at my cousin’s wedding in London”. “It is my first time in London”, she confided, “I come from Australia”. The lord bowed again and said gravely “welcome from the antipodes, I have been voted one of London’s Most Sophisticated Fancy Boys by Young Gentleman’s Quarterly three times and would love to show you around”.
He paused for a moment, looking into her blue eyes as if assessing her. He wondered if she was a model in Australia. She was certainly beautiful enough, and tall enough too, well above the average height for a woman in Regency England of five feet. “You are the lady that I have been dreaming about for several years now” he said with quiet, brooding intensity. “I can’t believe I finally get to meet you”. He looked at her from underneath his long eyelashes before adding “your dress is so short, is this what people wear in Australia?”. He started to blush even deeper than he had before, as he took in her hot legs. They were the most fuckable ankles he had ever seen. He wondered what it was about this girl that made him lose control and objectify her. He hoped the other members of the Society of Gentlemen for the Promotion of Female Liberation would not find out.
Belen seemed as cool as ever, reacting to this remark by saying confidently “It depends on how hot your legs are, my legs are very hot so I wear a very short dress”. “But this dress is wasted on the boys in Australia”, she added, “they are so unsophisticated”. The Viscount stared at her and, as if compelled, reached out and started running his hands slowly up her legs. As his hands moved up into Belen’s dress, he again wondered what it was about this girl that made him act like this, He had never been this commanding and assertive with anyone else…