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Annicka
Annicka eyes tracked over George’s face, one elegantly shaped brow arched. Professional opinions aside she read a vacancy in those sky blue eyes, a sort of disinterest but not an unfriendly one. She couldn’t chalk it up to anything clinical. “I believe I asked you first,” she said, demurring. With a lowering of her lashes to change tactics, Annicka began testing a new theory. “Or do ladies always come and go first where you come from?”
She uncrossed her legs at the ankle, crossing them instead at the knee. The white suit she wore stretched in comely fashion across the skin of her legs and she’d chosen the gesture purposely. Like many a psychologist, Annicka von Trent had studied the masters, and like her favorites Stanley-Hall, Brill, Jung and Freud, she saw far more into sex and its implications than mere propagation of the species. There was a lot one could learn by measuring and calculating responses to sexual overtures aside from the doing.
Though Annicka had based her practice on the importance of dominance and submission, on the mood enhancement provided by physical touch, the socio-cultural meanings behind mounting and the excitement of chasing climax, it was also the temporal and spiritual aspects which were exciting to Annicka. For some reason this George seemed to present an interesting case study though she knew nearly nothing about him. In that following her gut was something Annicka did with alacrity and regularity, she made the decision to use this man for just that for as long as they were both residents. “In the interest of transparency, this hotel presents a large pool of interesting people,” she said truthfully. “And I like interesting people.”
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MandyI want to believe the past is done with us
the moment we are done with it
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