“May I touch your nipple rings?” Vara asked shyly. That’s strange, Claire thought; there doesn’t really seem to be anything shy about Vara. She rolled onto her back while Vara sat up looking at her with obvious interest. Vara’s mouth opened slightly and her tongue slid along the underside of her upper lip. The probably involuntary gesture could easily have gone unnoticed by Claire. But it didn’t.

  Vara touched the ring in her right nipple, lifting it so gingerly that Claire had to laugh. “They’re not going to break, Vara, and they aren’t at all sore anymore.”

  “Have you had them for very long, Claire?” She was holding the ring between thumb and index finger, moving it up and down and slightly side-to-side. Her other fingers lightly brushed the areola surrounding it. Claire felt the tiny twinges caused by the luscious sensitivity of her right nipple spread from her breast to her groin.

  What was it Vara had asked? Oh … yes … how long …

  “Elliot put them in me a couple months ago.”

  “Elliot did this himself?” Claire nodded, smiling and trying to control the beginnings of arousal, without being rude and telling Vara to stop touching her. “Oooh … That is deliciously sexy, Claire! May I touch the other?”

  Oh, she is definitely bi, Claire thought. What should she do now? It did feel good. So relaxing. Claire’s eyes partially closed and she heard herself give a low moan. She nodded her head, saying, “Uh-huh.” Vara’s touch was a near perfect balance between fast and slow, soft and hard, eager and restrained.

  Vara was bending over her, one of Claire’s rings held by each hand. She looked up into Claire’s partially closed eyes. She bent down and kissed Claire’s lips. The kiss was brief, gentle, almost fleeting. Vara pulled back, still looking directly at Claire.

  “You are breathtakingly beautiful, Claire. I hope you don’t mind me saying so.”

  “I’ve always been taught that a lady never disdains a compliment. So thank you, Vara. But you need to know that I’m …”

  Vara had put her finger to Claire’s mouth, smiling as she interrupted her.

  “You’ve no need to tell me that you’re straight, Claire. I know that. But is it okay if I have a fantasy of you? A fantasy is okay isn't it? I’m sure Elliot wouldn’t mind – we’ve know each other for years. And Achilles wouldn’t care.”

  Claire had to smile at that. The self-assured Vara seemed so vulnerable at that moment. But what an unusual request! She had to take a moment to think about it. Meanwhile, Vara’s left hand continued to play with her right nipple ring. That was really beginning to turn Claire on.

  “Honestly, Vara, you don’t need to ask to have a fantasy of me. People fantasize about others all the time and never tell the source of their desire about the fantasy – nor do they even personally know them a lot of the time.”

  “I think you’re exceptional, Claire. I would only feel right being with you in a fantasy if I knew that it was acceptable to you. After all, on some level, fantasies may actually exist in a strange reality of the mind.”

  Claire wasn’t sure of that, although Vara seemed sincere. But what a peculiar, unexpected request!

  “Since I’ve never been asked that before, Vara, I don’t know how I feel about it. But since you asked me, I guess I owe it to you to consider it. I’m probably being overly analytical, but you’ll have to bear with me, please. Forgive me for thinking out loud.” And Vara’s manipulation of her nipple rings was making that thinking more difficult. She should tell her to stop. But, oh my!

  “I first have to ask myself if the idea creeps me out – being a part of a fantasy you have about me. I do know I’m straight, so I think that’s a reasonable thing to consider. I assume that if you had a fantasy of me, it would involve lesbian sex. Hmm …

  “I’m not sure why, Vara, but it doesn’t creep me out. Not at all. Maybe it’s the sweet way you asked me for permission. Maybe it’s something else. But I don’t mind the idea of you thinking about me in that way. The concept of your fantasy, if it means you fantasizing sex with me, doesn’t turn me on, or sexually excite me. At least, I don’t feel that way thinking about it. But, very surprisingly to me, it fills me with warmth; that another human being would think about me that way.

  “So Vara, if you could tolerate that rambling, then I suppose you’ve earned the right to enjoy your fantasy with my best wishes.”

  Vara looked dreamily into Claire’s eyes. “Thank you Claire. I’ll treat you with consideration, affection, passion and tenderness in my fantasy.”

  “Ah … er … thank you, Vara. Let me know how I do …”

  * * * * *

  Dinner was over and Claire and Elliot were getting ready for the party. It was the first opportunity she’d had to talk to him privately about her strange afternoon with Vara and Vara’s surprising request.

  “As I told you, Darling, Vara wants sex with you.”

  “Well, she almost had it,” Claire laughed. “She’s as good at nipple-ring diddling as any girl could want. My thong was soaked when I took it off. And it wasn’t sweat either. Although she almost had me sweating trying to keep myself under control.”

  “So you did find her attentions arousing. She felt likewise, I suspect.”

  “Obviously. And she is very attractive. You’d have to be a quadriplegic with no sense of touch below your nose to not get aroused when someone that good is working you and some of your accessories.”

  “Ha! I love it when you’re surprised!”

  “I was! Who’d have thought?”

  “So what do you do next, Claire?”

  “Avoid her whenever possible! Maybe her fantasy will satisfy her. Besides, she’s gonna find out I’m bald tonight. Maybe that’ll turn her off. She obviously likes long hair.”

  “On her. There isn’t a chance that you’ll turn her off by turning up folicularly handicapped. You are way too hot!”

  They’d chosen Star Trek, The Motion Picture, aka Star Trek 1 from 1979 for their movie. Claire would go as Ilia – which she thought was an interesting, female variant on their host’s name, Ilias – the luscious, bald-girl character made famous by a completely shaved Persis Khambatta. After they’d debated between Kirk and Spock, she’d chosen Spock for Elliot. Kirk was, after all, a cock hound, and Elliot was finally forming real, committed, hopefully-lasting attachments to her. Besides, he was as least as smart as Spock and it was a better dress-up character for a costume party.

  Claire had popped brown contacts in to cover her twilight blue eyes. He’d told her that Ilias gave prizes for authenticity and she was determined to include every detail she could think of to try to win. That contest on René’s yacht all those weeks ago had made her fervently competitive with these groups of cosmopolitan party-goers. Her very short, white, long-sleeved tunic with the bold collar, barely covering her nicely-shaped, rounded bottom, was a near-perfect representation of the original Persis had worn toward the end of the movie. To be naughty, Elliot had suggested that she not wear panties, and she’d agreed. So Claire was well-exposed, just below and underneath the tunic.

  I’ve become quite the exhibitionist, she thought.

  She completed the outfit with matching footwear. She finished her makeup, including realistic-looking, fake eyebrows – much heavier than hers had been before they were removed completely – but matching closely what Persis had worn. She made sure her naked scalp blended well with her tan complexion. After all, she hadn’t exposed it to the sun for the several days she’d been on Ilias’s yacht.

  She helped Elliot with the false ears, eyebrows and Spock wig. They were ready. Claire thought they could win this, although he did look younger than the Leonard Nimoy of 1979. She knew he was also a lot more handsome.

  Picture perfect, they headed up to the party deck.

  Claire could hear the collective gasps as they stepped through the portal door onto the deck. The party was just beginning to get rolling. Elliot had arranged for Star Trek to begin playing on one of the screens just a short while before. As it happened, they walked in just as Ilia/Persis appeared on the screen.

  Ilias and several guests, all in costume, some recognizable, others not as obvious, rushed up to them. Claire almost cringed to notice Vara among them.

  “Claire!” She exclaimed. “That looks so real! It isn’t, is it?”

  “Touch it and see for yourself,” Elliot told Vara before Claire had a chance to say anything.

  Gingerly, at least gingerly for Vara, she reached out to run her fingertips over Claire’s smooth head. Once again, Claire experienced her light, sensuous, arousing touch. How does she do that? Claire thought again.

  “Oh heavens, Claire! That is real! You shaved your beautiful curls for the costume party!”

  “Really?” Ilias and some others exclaimed in amazement.

  “No … I mean yes, it’s real,” Claire acknowledged. “But I didn’t do it for the party. My hair was shaved by a crazy French hairdresser - well, we were both acting crazy at the time – a little over a month ago. He put some lotion on my scalp that stops growth for several months. It hasn’t started to grow back yet. The dark curls you’ve known me with since we got here are a wig – a very good wig, obviously.”

  “So these characters and the Star Trek Movie seemed to be the perfect choice for us tonight,” Elliot added.

  Vara had a look on her face that Claire thought she’d never seen before. At first, she thought Vara was finally going to lose interest in her. Then she realized that Vara was on the edge of a consuming arousal. Holy shit! Claire thought. She’s getting turned on by my hairless pate!

  Sure enough, Vara reached up to touch Claire’s head again. And, for the second time, Claire saw Vara’s little tongue involuntarily slide along the bottom of her upper lip.

  I think I’m gonna have to get off this yacht as soon as I can, she thought to herself.

  The evening was an extravaganza of costumes, videos, dancing, drinks and champagne. Vara actually asked Elliot’s permission to dance with Claire which, of course, he gave. Claire felt totally on the spot - she’d make him pay for this later – so she felt she had no choice but to dance with Vara. They danced fast to a couple of rock songs with demanding beats and highly rhythmic base guitars. When, finally, a slow song was starting, Claire turned to go back to Elliot. Vara just managed to grab her hand and turn Claire back toward her.

  “Just one slow dance, Claire? Please?” She looked so hopeful Claire couldn’t say no to her.

  “Who’s hand goes where?” Claire asked, prompting a giggle from Vara.

  “Just put your arms around my neck, Dear, and I’ll hold your waist.”

  Very uncomfortably, Claire put her arms around Vara. She felt Vara put one arm around her waist, pulling Claire tightly against her. The other hand reached up to cup the back of Claire’s naked head, pulling her head toward Vara so that their cheeks touched. Vara was soft yet toned and warm against Claire. She heard Vara emit a little moan of pleasure.

  “Is this part of your fantasy?” Claire asked nervously. She was self-conscious and disquieted in Vara’s arms. Maybe conversation would distract them both.

  “Oh no, dear Claire, this is very much reality. Do you like dancing with me? Your heart is beating rapidly. I can feel it when you’re pressed against me like this. By the way, I did notice that you weren’t wearing anything under that cute tunic.”

  Oh God, she’d noticed! Why had Claire let him talk her into no panties, knowing Vara would be there? Full or partial nudity among this crowd was nothing at all, but Vara made no secret of having the hots for Claire.

  “That wasn’t my idea; it was Elliot’s.” Claire tried to think of some way out of this. It seemed that she was just getting in deeper. She tried to lighten the moment with laughter.

  “Ooh, how deliciously naughty of both of you,” Vara offered. She continued to hold Claire against her as they danced. Claire’s cheek still rested against hers. Claire was afraid to move.

  “Claire, dear, I thought I saw a little glint from below your tunic, where your shapely legs come together at your center. Do you wear jewelry there, by any chance?”

  Oh no, not that too. She was definitely going to make him pay for this. “You might as well know, Vara. I have a ring through my clit and five others on each side through both of my inner labia lips.”

  “Oh Claire! You must let me see them!”

  “I can’t show them to you now!” Claire exclaimed.

  “No, no, dear. Perhaps tomorrow or the next day when we can be private. Please may I see them?”

  It wasn’t as though Vara would be the first, Claire thought. Besides, maybe she could convince Elliot to take them both off the yacht and on to somewhere else, before Vara had a chance to get to her alone. The idea of showing Vara her rings was titillating in one way; Claire loved them and was glad to show them off to others who’d appreciate them. She was, however, convinced that being alone with Vara was dangerous to her sense of heterosexuality.

  Maybe she could get out of here before they had an opportunity. Besides, she couldn’t think of an excuse not to let Vara see them. After all, she was the one who hadn’t worn panties, in spite of the shortness of the tunic dress which was almost an exact match to the one Persis had worn. Throwing caution to the wind, she agreed to let Vara see her pussy rings.

  She’d been so surprised at the turn of conversation that she’d quite forgotten that she was dancing with her arms around a woman. It seemed like an awfully long song. Feeling Vara against her was so different than the hard-as-steel muscles and power of Elliot when they danced. Vara was soft in all the same places as Claire. Her movements had an unpretentious sensuality to them. She was comfortable to cuddle against.

  When I consider it rationally, Claire thought, it’s really quite pleasant to be close to Vara like this. Now if she just didn’t scare the shit out of me!

  The music ended. Vara wanted another dance but Claire managed to put her off. Holding her hand, Vara did walk Claire back to Elliot. He was smiling, laughing and completely involved in an animated conversation with an average-sized man dressed as a shepherd with a brown cloth mask covering his eyes and tied behind his head, underneath his headdress.

  “Did you enjoy your dance, Darling?” He asked innocently. Claire felt like stomping down on his foot. “You and Vara do dance well together.” Before she could actually cause him to come to bodily harm, he smoothly slipped into an introduction.

  “Ali, I want you to meet Claire, my consort and my raison d'être.”

  Did he say his raison d'être? I know he did, Claire thought. It was so wonderful that her anger evaporated instantly. She was his reason for being! The center of his life!

  “Claire, this is my very good, very long-time friend, Ali. Protect yourself around him. He’s the greatest rogue to ever come out of the Middle East.”

  “And, according to my family, an inveterate playboy, I’m afraid,” Ali added. His laugh was loud and rumbling. He took Claire’s hand and kissed it while looking intently at her face with dark, mysterious eyes. He had a mustache and short goatee. With or without the mask, he was darkly, ruggedly handsome.

  “Ali’s invited us to visit him in the desert.”

  “I prefer to think of it as a palace on the oasis, actually,” Ali added good-naturedly. “Makes it sound so much more appealing.”

  At this point, Claire would’ve visited him at the North Pole, to escape Vara. She realized that she wasn’t just afraid of Vara. She was afraid of what she might be persuaded by Vara to do with Vara.

  “I’d love to see your palace, Ali. Or, should I call you Emir Ali?”

  Elliot couldn’t resist interjecting. “Don’t compliment him, Claire, or build him up. It immediately goes to his head. He’s insufferable as it is.”

  “Alas, Claire,” Ali said, faking regret, “My uncle is an Emir. He is just below the Sultan of our little kingdom. I am merely a Qaid.”

  “Yes, poor Ali is just a lowly official who could buy and sell everyone on this yacht,” Elliot teased.

  “I have a few coins,” Ali admitted sheepishly.

  “His foyer is paved with krugerrands.”

  “Not paved,” Ali admonished with a sly smile. “Merely inset with a few for their geometric design qualities.”

  Everyone laughed at that and the conversation continued among the group for some time. Claire stuck close to Ali, trying to use him as a shield to protect her from Vara. Finally, Vara gave up. With a hint of disappointment on her beautiful face, she moved on to other game on the deck above.

  The party lasted until almost dawn. Claire and Elliot won most authentic costumes by acclimation. Their prize was a golden, upper-arm bracelet for her, a replica of a Greek one dating from ancient times. She was delighted to have won. She also thought the bracelet looked splendid on her.

  An exhausted, satisfied and happy Claire collapsed onto the bed as soon as they reached their cabin. She barely had the strength to tell Elliot, “We’ve got to get off this yacht before Vara tries to eat me alive.”

  “Sorry, Love. That’s not in the cards – at least not for several days. Ilias, Achilles and Ali have an opportunity I can’t pass up. I’ll be with them in Thessalonica for a few days. A chopper is picking us up right after lunch. You’ll be able to enjoy yourself and cruise the Aegean for the short time I’m gone.”

  “You can’t leave me here by myself with Vara!”

  He couldn’t suppress a laugh at Claire’s discomfort. “There are at least a dozen other guests and a crew of fifteen. You won’t be alone, darling.”

  He’d made a commitment and she knew he wouldn’t be dissuaded. Besides, she was too tired to plead her case to her unsympathetic lover. She’d fallen asleep before she could open her mouth in response.

  By the time Claire awoke, it was almost noon. Elliot was ready to go to lunch. The helicopter would arrive about 1:30. She donned her normal yacht-wear, a bikini and a short, open, translucent, cover-up shirt. Everyone was stumbling up to the buffet brunch at about the same time they did. They sat down with Achilles, Ali, Ali’s current girlfriend, Saida, and, of course, Vara. Vara unabashedly slid into the chair next to Claire. Hasn’t she ever heard of boy-girl-boy-girl seating? Claire wondered.