Queen of Love
When she finished her makeup, she waltzed into the bedroom, where the covers were already mussed from that afternoon’s half-hour frivolity. She perused the collection of fine jewelry she kept in Taipei. The first thing Genevieve noticed was that it had a theme. A very sharp, jewel-toned theme.
“Which do you think I should wear?” Genevieve pulled out the top drawer of her vanity, revealing a burgundy red velvet lining and three different collars for a night out on the kinky town. “They all say different things.”
Aya peered at each one. “Do they? Look about the same to me.”
Genevieve jabbed her finger at the top one. “Corporate owner who wants to leave a good impression on her guests.” The second. “Reserved girl of Chinese descent who is still convinced her mother is going to burst through the door and figure out what she’s been up to.” The third. “Kinky ho who wants to get gangbanged in the bathroom.”
“That one,” Aya decided quickly. “Definitely that one.”
Genevieve held up the slinky collar with a single square diamond in the middle. “You want everyone to think you’re dating a loose woman?”
“Yes. Especially if she’s getting gangbanged in the bathroom, it’s only right.”
“The owner’s not allowed to do that.”
“She is in my imagination.”
Aya took the collar and offered to put it on Genevieve, who sat up straight at her vanity and lifted her hair out of the way. As the soft leather wrapped around her throat, Genevieve said, “Believe it or not, this is one of my biggest turn-ons.”
Aya tugged on the collar to make sure it was secure before motioning for Genevieve to lower her hair. “I believe it.” She stole a look down her girlfriend’s plunging neckline. “That’s also why you’re not wearing a bra, right?”
“Oh, I have a built-in bra shelf in this thing, held together with fashion tape.” Genevieve’s nonchalant response would have been hilarious if she weren’t so dedicated to preening in her mirror. “By the way…” She turned around on her stool, looking straight at Aya’s outfit. “I think we could punch this up a bit more.” A finger twirled, gesturing to Aya’s chest.
“Hm? I’m starting to think you don’t like my clothes, Genny,” Aya teased.
“In the bag that came with this, wasn’t there another piece of clothing?”
“Sure, but…” Aya grabbed the bag off the bed. In the bottom, beneath piles of tissue, was a piece of black fabric barely the size of Aya’s face. “This isn’t ‘clothing.’”
“It’s a tube top, so yes it is.”
“You want me to wear a tube top to a kinky club?”
Genevieve shrugged. “Welcome to Taipei, darling.”
Aya could hardly believe what she was hearing, but she remained intrigued.