Chapter 616: New Identity: Personal Bodyguard
Marina turned slightly, her eyes flicking to the mirror, where she took in the sight of herself—naked, glistening, her pussy still dripping slightly from our earlier play. Her fingers traced the dark, curly hair between her legs, her voice dropping to a thoughtful murmur.
"Should I shave it?" she asked, her tone hesitant, as if she were genuinely considering it.
I shook my head firmly, my voice low, earnest. "No, Ma’am..." I said, my eyes darkening with desire as I reached out, my fingers brushing against her soft curls.
"I love Ma’am’s hairy pussy..." The words were true—the feel of her, the sight of her, the taste of her—it was all intoxicating. The wildness of it, the natural beauty, the way it framed her glistening lips—it was perfect.
Marina bit her lip, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she considered my words. Then, without warning, she lifted her arm, exposing her hairy armpit, and leaned in, pressing it against my nose.
The scent was strong—musky, earthy, the raw aroma of her sweat and arousal filling my senses. "What about here...?" she asked, her voice a teasing whisper, her eyes locked onto mine, daring me to react.
I didn’t hesitate.
I leaned in, my tongue darting out to lick a slow, deliberate path up the damp skin of her armpit, the taste of her salty and intoxicating. The sound of my tongue moving against her was wet, obscene—SLURP—SLURP——and Marina shivered, her body trembling as she felt my worship.
I pulled back slightly, my voice thick with lust. "No..." I murmured, my breath hot against her skin.
"I love the smell of Ma’am’s hairy armpit..." The words were filthy, taboo, and true. The raw, primitive scent of her was addictive, a reminder of how real this was, how unfiltered our desire for each other had become.
Marina’s laughter filled the bathroom, the sound low and breathy, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and arousal. The way she looked at me—like I was both her toy and her secret—sent a thrill through me. My cock throbbed in response, still hard from her touch, her scent, the filthy things we’d done.
"You are a pervert..." she said, her voice playful, her hand reaching out to slap my cock again. The sound of the smack WHACK—echoed off the tiled walls, the sting of her palm against my skin sending a jolt of pleasure through me. My hips jerked forward instinctively, my cock pulsing as if begging for more.
But Marina wasn’t done with me yet.
She stepped back, her body glistening from the shower, her skin flushed from the heat and the filthy pleasure we’d shared.
She reached for her bathrobe, the silky fabric sliding over her curves as she tied it loosely around her waist, leaving just enough gap to tease me with glimpses of her naked skin beneath. The scent of her—clean now, but still musky, still hers—lingered in the air, taunting me.
"I will ask Kevin to arrange you as my new bodyguard..." she said, her voice casual, as if we hadn’t just spent the last hour fucking and playing in the most depraved ways.
"And we are going out to an interesting place..." Her eyes flickered with excitement, a mischievous glint that told me this interesting place was going to be anything but ordinary.
I nodded, my voice respectful, my posture straightening as I slipped back into my role. "Ok, Ma’am..."
Marina smiled, her fingers tracing the lapels of her robe, her gaze softening slightly. "Be good..." she said, her voice gentler now, almost maternal in its assurance.
"I won’t treat you badly..." There was a promise in her words, but also a warning—obey, and you’ll be rewarded. Disobey, and...
But she didn’t finish the thought. She didn’t need to.
Her expression shifted again, her brow furrowing slightly as a thought occurred to her. "When you came in last time..." she asked, her voice curious, her eyes narrowing as she studied me. "Did those maids or butlers see you...?"
I shook my head firmly, my voice steady. "No, Ma’am. Sir Kevin..." I paused, choosing my words carefully. "He secretly brought me here. No one other than Sir Kevin knows I am here..."
Marina nodded, her lips curling into a satisfied smile. "I didn’t expect him to be so careful..." she murmured, her voice thoughtful. "I guess he didn’t want others to know about it..." Her eyes flickered back to mine, her tone sharpening.
"So you have to be serious..." she said, her finger pointing at me, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Just pretend to be my bodyguard, okay...?"
I nodded again, my expression neutral, my mind racing. The game was on—and I was loving every second of it.
Marina grabbed my hand, her fingers cool against my skin, and pulled me toward the bathroom door. She pointed to a small, unassuming door at the end of the hallway, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Go..." she said. "This is the room for the private servant... but it’s empty..." Her eyes gleamed with mischief.
"And find some clothes to fit... They must be in the wardrobe..." She gestured toward the door, her voice firm. "And come out of that door..." She pointed to another exit, this one leading to the main hallway. "We will meet outside..." she explained, her plan clicking into place.
I understood.
The game was on, and the stakes were high. But I was ready.
I walked to the door she’d indicated, my naked body exposed in the hallway for a brief moment before I slipped inside the private servant’s room.
The space was small but neat, the wardrobe standing against one wall, its dark wood polished to a shine.
I opened the wardrobe, my fingers brushing against the hangers as I searched for something that would fit. The scent of cedar and lavender filled the air, the fabric of the clothes soft under my touch.
And then, I found it—a crisp white shirt, a sleek black blazer, and a pair of black pants, all neatly pressed and hanging as if waiting for me.
I pulled them on, the fabric cool against my skin, the fit perfect—as if they’d been tailored for me. The shirt hugged my torso, the buttons fastening easily, the collar crisp against my neck.
The pants settled on my hips, the fabric smooth and comfortable, the zipper clicking into place. And then, the blazer—heavy and well-structured, the shoulders fitting me like a glove.
I turned to the full-length mirror, my reflection staring back at me. The transformation was striking—from naked and filthy to polished and professional in a matter of minutes. The black shoes shone under the light, the leather squeaking slightly as I took a step, testing the fit.
