Changing Direction Ch. 01

Chapter One: Dubai

The soft pressure between Ella's legs slowly brought her out of her sleep. Half conscious, she opened her legs wider so that the tongue running down the length of her labia had more room. Arching her back, she thrust her hips forward to meet the lapping contact.

"Mmm, yes, that's just how I like baby," she murmured, her normally bright eyes lidded as waves of pleasure shot up through her spine.

Her clutching hands found the head between her thighs, holding him there while her slim hips arched up towards the attentive tongue. A sharp intake of breath escaped her lips when it edged inside her.

"Like that ... just like that," she panted, curling her fingers into her boyfriend's soft stubbly hair.

Bringing her out of her sleep like this was one of Marc's specialities. Their relationship might have been going downhill for a few months but the sex was still good. Amazing in fact! They were extremely compatible in bed, if not elsewhere.

It was the last day of their Dubai holiday and she'd persuaded him to take the break in the vague hope that it might save their relationship. It hadn't worked out like that. Despite being on holiday in such a romantic location, they had still found plenty of time to bitch at each other even over the smallest things.

Marc was between jobs but had plenty of plans for the future. The problem was that she wasn't sure if all of those plans included her, or even when he expected that future to start.

If she wasn't included, well, she was an independent girl. And in some ways it would be a relief to escape the silly arguments that took place everywhere other than the bedroom. She would enjoy the last rites of their relationship rather than worrying about what was going to happen and right now, that enjoyment was focused on the orgasm beginning to bubble inside her.

Once he'd thoroughly satisfied her, she'd spend the rest of the day on the beach until it was time for their flight.

And right now, as she glanced downwards, she had no complaints.

His fingers had dug more tightly into her thighs as he shuffled on the bed to make himself more comfortable. The contrast in her tanned Mediterranean skin against his dark ebony skin always made her hot. When he momentarily pulled away so that he could grin up into her eyes, she instantly pushed his head down into her wet folds. The cocky so-and-so could wait until she'd reached her climax before he started congratulating himself.

"Did I say stop?" she snapped.

Her hips pushed even higher as his tongue probed inside her again. Even the morning stubble that scraped across her skin felt sexy. She curled her right foot around his neck and tugged him closer as her clawed at the sheets, her red fingernails digging into the soft fabric.

"Yes, there... just there..."

She was whimpering like an animal on heat. She always did when she began to lose control. Just like this. Her foot tightened around his neck and her hips frantically humped upwards. She was using the whole of his face to reach her climax and when it arrived she threw her head back and announced her release with a throaty cry.

Her thighs continued to squeeze his juice stained face until her climax had subsided and only then did she let him free.

But even then, the beautiful brunette wasn't finished. Moving quickly, she twisted her body over his, straddling him before he could react and sheathing his impressive hardness inside her.

"Don't think you're getting out of this bed 'til you've fucked me silly," she rasped in his ear, as her hips began to work on his length.

She'd always been such a greedy girl...

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With their main luggage already packed for their late-afternoon return journey, Ella's beachwear needed to be light enough for her to be able to tuck it away afterwards in her on-flight overnight bag.

The red bikini was perfect. And deliciously revealing, too. The skimpy top barely contained her perky breasts and her nipples, still hard from their early morning lovemaking, were thrusting sexily through the thin material. Then there was the little red g-string that barely passed as a bikini bottom. It only just covered the slight rise of her mound.

Their break-up might be almost inevitable, but while Marc might not fully appreciate what he would miss out on, she was determined to ensure that everyone else would. And where better to find a confidence boost than in the admiring glances of a few strangers?

She'd have to wear the white shawl over the bikini on the journey to and from the hotel's private beach, of course. Women were much more constrained over here, even in the relative security of the hotel.

With Marc off somewhere, probably on the phone to one of his idiot friends, she was determined to enjoy her last few hours on the golden sands. Some sunbathing and the occasional dip in the clear blue water would set her up nicely for the long journey home.

She needed relaxation right now, not another stupid spat.

There were already quite a few couples scattered around the private beach when she made her way outside. She made her way to a spot beside a palm tree, knowing that she'd appreciate the shelter later when the sun was at its highest.

Women were busy lathering themselves with sun tan protection as she wandered past them, while their husbands or boyfriends pretended to occupy themselves while surreptitiously eyeing up her body. Their not so subtle glances were clearly apparent even behind the designer sunglasses they all seemed to wear.

Married men. They were all the same. It did make her chuckle, though. The thought of them furtively wanking behind their wives backs, while they imagined they were fucking her, was hot.

Ella wasn't the only woman they were slyly ogling. The woman sitting under the striped umbrella on the nearby lounger was a target, too.

Ella had noticed her earlier in the week. How was it possible to miss someone with such a definitive look? With her voluminous strawberry blonde hair, full pouting red lips, pale skin and voluptuous body, she was a glamorous throwback to an earlier age. As absurd as it might seem, the woman appeared to have styled herself on Marilyn Monroe.

Nor did she have any inhibitions about flaunting her store-bought tits in the overhead sun. Like yesterday, she had already removed her top and her bare breasts thrust proudly from her body.

It was strictly forbidden to bathe topless, of course, but this woman didn't seem to care.

Ella dropped her towel and bag by the sun lounger next to the palm tree. Glancing around to ensure the maximum numbers of eyes were on her, she made a deliberate show of slowly removing her white shawl and then languidly stretching her arms over her head. The wives might have been sending disapproving scowls her way, but all male eyes had quickly found their way to her pert body as she teasingly stretched out.

That would give them something to argue over, she giggled to herself, just as another thought occurred to her. Acting on instinct, she untied her top and stood for a moment, posing topless, before sliding down onto the lounger. If the other woman could, why couldn't she?

It didn't take long to fall asleep. Maybe it was the early morning sex, or the growing heat out in the sun? She had no idea how long she dozed, but when she woke it was to a shadow passing across her closed eyes.

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"I brought you a drink," the Marilyn-lookalike said, looking down at the younger woman.

She'd been watching the hot young brunette all week and waiting for the right opportunity to approach her. Everything she had observed so far had indicated she'd be a perfect acquisition for the business she worked for. The girl had a great figure—beautifully toned like an athlete—and clearly enjoyed being the centre of attention.

Her exhibitionist trait and naturally sexy way of attracting attention was there for all to see by the way she acted when she had reached the pool. In short, she was a right little cock-tease.

And even better still, her boyfriend was nowhere to be seen.

The girl—twenty-one, twenty-two?—twisted in the lounger and shielded her eyes despite the shades.

Marilyn offered her one of the two couple champagne flutes in her hand as she took a seat on the lounger next to her.

"I got us a couple mimosas, darling. I gather you're heading back home later today? Such a shame."

The girl sat up and stared at her in surprise. Marilyn had deliberately sat beside her bikini top so that she couldn't reach it without appearing obvious. Those perky tits were worth admiring, but it was more that she wanted to see her reaction. There wasn't one. She appeared unfazed. Excellent.

"That's very kind," the girl said, taking the drink. "How did you know I was leaving today?"

"It isn't hard to find out these things," Marilyn said, with a knowing smile.

She already had the conversation planned out in her mind. It wouldn't be difficult to lead the brunette in the direction she wanted. The girl wouldn't even know what was happening until it was way too late.

"There's a pretty Brazilian receptionist who's infatuated with me and keeps her ear close to the ground. In my line of work, I like to know what's going on."

There it was. Let her know she was bi. And provoke her curiosity, too.

"Your line of work?" the girl asked inquisitively.

Even behind her oversized sunglasses, Marilyn could clearly see that the brunette was studying her body. That was definitely a good sign.

"I work for a modelling agency, darling." She held out her hand. "I'm Marilyn, by the way."

The girl sat up further as she took the proffered hand. She was interested now, but then impressionable young women always were when she casually mentioned her profession. Not that it adequately explained her role. That would come later.

"Oh, hi. I'm Ella. So, er, you work for a modelling agency?"

"Mm-hmm," Marilyn answered, sipping at her drink, "One that looks for a special type of young woman, one who fits with our philosophy."

Her gaze didn't leave the brunette as she left the statement hanging open ended. The girl's sparkling brown eyes couldn't disguise her curiosity. So far, so good.

"Occasionally it's possible to find a new gem, a fresh face who expresses an interest in a modelling career," she added, pushing a strand of her blonde hair away from her eye. "Have you modelled before, darling?"

There it was. The hook. It never failed.

"Me?" Ella gushed at the compliment. "No I haven't, not at all. I actually work in an office. Not very glamorous but it pays the bills."

She spoke quickly, urgently. She'd been looking for another job for some time. With her relationship with Marc on its last legs, she needed to forge a new beginning for herself. Was this fate? A career in the modelling industry would be the perfect new start for her.

"Is that right," Marilyn mused, taking her time to set the trap.

Placing her glass on the sand, she reached for the bottle of suntan oil lying on the sand beside them.

"Your shoulders look a little red," she said, moving from her lounger to sit on the edge of Ella's.

She did it naturally, with genuine concern in her voice. Sitting behind the girl, she poured some of the oily liquid into her palms.

"Here, let me put some oil on that pretty dark skin, darling. It's important to make sure you're protected, don't you think?"

It was such a personal thing to do, but in the circumstances she knew Ella wasn't going to object. The girl stiffened momentarily at the first touch, but then relaxed a little as Marilyn swept her oil-covered hands soothingly across the bare shoulders. She took her time, spreading the oil liberally across the soft tanned Mediterranean skin.

"I've been watching you this week," she told her. Her voice was low and persuasive. "I like the confident way you hold yourself. You're at ease with your body and why shouldn't you be with a figure like yours."

She was probing now. Every word and action was with a purpose, designed to assess the brunette's suitability. It was uncanny. They'd been looking for new blood for some time now and this girl was perfect. There wouldn't be many adjustments necessary.

But she had to assess the younger woman's mindset. There would be too much invested—time, money—for her to get things wrong. This stage was crucial.

"And you like to use that stunning body of yours in a sexual way, too," she told her.

The voice in Ella's ear was purring, almost hypnotic.

She ran her hands down the side of her body now, her fingertips brushing against the sides of those perky tits. The girl gave a soft shudder beneath her coaxing fingers.

"But you're here with your boyfriend," she continued.

Her voice was even lower and huskier now. The girl's answer would give her the insight she needed into her psyche.

"What girl doesn't like to flirt," Ella nonchalantly chuckled, though her voice was a little breathless from the way the woman's fingers danced along her body. "Boyfriend or not, it's always nice to be admired."

Marilyn let the girl feel her hot breath on her neck and watched her heated reaction. It was exactly the response she'd been looking for. Temporarily moving her hands away from that tempting young flesh, she poured more oil onto her palms.

"You know, we have a vacancy right now for someone with a special look," she told her, happy to progress to the next stage. "I rather do believe that with one or two adjustments, you'd perfectly fit the bill. You'd be interested in an audition, darling? In London?"

"Absolutely," Ella gushed, swinging her head around to meet Marilyn's gaze. Her beautiful brown eyes had widened in excitement at the possibility. "Yes, yes please."

"I'll arrange it then," Marilyn told her, brushing the back of Ella's neck with her full red lips.

Time for the final test...

She casually reached under the girl's arms and cupped her tits. There couldn't be any doubt that the action was blatantly sexual and she could feel the younger woman's nipples stiffen instantly.

Ella involuntarily grabbed her wrists, but then paused. Marilyn knew why. The initial shock had worn off and she was thinking about the opportunity she was being given. Instead of dragging her oily hands away, the girl just held them there, and made no further objection as Marilyn began to expertly manipulate those deliciously perky tits.

"Why don't you give me your phone number and I'll call you within a week," she whispered, as she finally pulled her hands away.

To her satisfaction, the young brunette was panting a little from her touch. In time, she'd turn those pants into screams of joy.

"I'll be in London myself, soon. We'll have lunch together."

----------

Ella returned to their room half an hour earlier than she had planned. Good, Marc wasn't there yet. She didn't really want to see him right now—she had more urgent things on her mind.

Heading for the bathroom, she doused her face in water as she filtered the conversation back through her brain. Her mind was reeling with the possibilities. She had to take Marilyn at face value for now but if the woman was serious, this was the sort of opportunity that didn't come along too often.

It wouldn't have been appropriate to talk money, but if she made it as a model then she was sure she'd no longer need to worry about her career in the insurance world. It paid peanuts anyway, and she was sick of being leered at by the older staff at her office who seemed convinced she was only there for them to lust after.

She had happily exchanged telephone numbers with Marilyn and now she needed to decide what to tell Marc. He'd be supportive, of course, he always was. But she didn't want to give too much away until she was certain of what was happening with their relationship. Maybe she would keep it all to herself until she was sure of where this was going?

The whole of her body was tingling in anticipation. That was another reason she'd hurried back to her room. It wasn't just the chance being presented to her—the brunette's oily hands had felt good on her skin. A little too good. And when she'd felt her tits...

Up close, the resemblance to Marilyn Monroe had been even more uncanny. The strawberry-blonde looked exactly how the iconic film star had in all those sixties movies she'd watched. It was kind of surreal. Exciting, too. Marilyn Monroe had actually come onto her...

Removing her bikini, Ella hurried into the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub. That way she could see herself in the large mirror on the near wall. When she cupped her tits just the way Marilyn had done, the immediate sexual heat she felt was overwhelming.

She pulled her knees up, spreading her legs as she planted the soles of her feet on the edge of the tub beside her. This was one of her favourite fantasies. What if there was someone on the other side of the mirror, watching her masturbate.

Did she have time? There was only one way to find out.

One hand found her right breast and—just as Marilyn had done—she cupped it, savouring the tingles of pleasure that rushed down her spine. She was still sensitive from the blonde's knowing touch but that just added to the moment.

Her free hand ran down her body and lightly brushed around her navel. Eyes narrowed, she slid it further down between her parted thighs to her waiting sex. She was already wet and watched her reflection as she easily slid one finger and then a second inside her. Her muscles tightened around them, trapping and holding before releasing.

Maybe there was more than one person watching her through the mirror, she thought. Perhaps there were a few of them? The idea was too good to ignore and sent an electric wave of pleasure through her tight young body. A groan escaped her lips...

Her fingers pushed and probed while her thumb found and rubbed her clit. Oh ... that felt so good. Her body began to rock.

She thrust her hips forward, providing the mirror with a more personal view of her working fingers. The people watching needed to see. Her fingers moved faster at the thought of them, watching her, wanting her, staring closely at her as she masturbated for them.

She had no idea what time it was, but knew that Marc would be back soon. She needed to get off before then. Or perhaps she would just make him go down on her, on his knees, here in the bathroom, performing for all the imaginary people watching behind the mirror.

The thought was almost too much to bear and another electric wave flashed through her. Oh shit. She was close. She was fucking close. Then an alternative thought occurred. Perhaps it wasn't Marc going down on her. What if it was Marilyn?

Her encounters with her close friend Dani had been less frequent since she had met Marc, and she realised she was missing a woman's touch. She'd have to visit her best friend as soon as she got back to England.

That thought engulfed her as she pounded her fingers faster, harder. That sloshing noise had always been one of her favourite sounds. Look at me, her dreamy eyes told the imaginary watchers as she lifted her hips to give the mirror a better view.

Her exhibitionist streak was sending her into the stratosphere.

Watch me, her dark eyes pleaded as her body stiffened and her orgasm began to surface. Watch me cum...