When he told her not to worry about packing, "...we can get whatever you need over there..." she wasn't sure whether that meant 'Don't pack anything at all,' or just pack the minimum she would feel comfortable with. She decided to put a few toiletries she couldn't do without into a small carry-on and hoped that would be right.
The buzzer rang. "Ms. Adams? We're ready when you are." She took a last look around, making sure all of the lights were off, closed and locked the door. The act seemed symbolic. This wouldn't be the last time she left her place, but she felt a sense of finality about it. Squaring her shoulders she walked down the hall to the elevators thinking about where this new chapter in her life was leading.
The town car waiting for her at the curb wasn't a stretch, but its spit and polish advertised something more personal than a commercial car service. The driver took her bag and opened the door for her; she slipped in next to Monty.
"Good morning," he leaned over and kissed her.
She smiled at him a little nervously. "Hi. India. Wow." The enormity of the trip was settling in on her. Three weeks in India. A ceremonial preparation for their wedding. He had given her little indication of what was involved, but his first instructions to her this week were discomfiting: no meat, and no shaving.
He stroked her thigh as they drove to the airport, and apologized for having to do a little work. While he browsed his laptop she looked out the window at the familiar landscape. How many times had she made this drive to fly somewhere? How would it look in two weeks when she came back? Would she see it differently after their marriage?
Marriage. It was only the first part of their ceremony – the 'spiritual consummation' as he put it. She still hadn't finalized their "personal" wedding, as she came to call it, but as long as they did this thing first, he was open to whatever she had in mind.
She was a little confused when the driver took a different turn from the route she usually took. Curious, she paid greater attention to where they were heading and realized she had never been to this part of the airport before.
"Private jet. One of the privileges of being filthy rich." He smiled as her eyes grew.
The car drove up to a small jet. From the outside there appeared to be at least 10 windows; she calculated it would seat 20 very comfortably and wondered who else was coming with them.
He led the way up the stairs, greeting a young flight attendant at the door.
"Mahitha, meet Marcie. Marcie...Mahitha." He stepped inside to let her enter.
She shook the woman's hand, momentarily stopped by her beauty. Her skin was a deep brown with red tones, her eyes a dark chocolate brown. Mahitha smiled broadly and took the bag.
"Pleased to meet you Marcie. Congratulations." Her smile was infectious, her accent amazing. Marcie felt her odyssey had already begun and they hadn't left the ground yet. "You may hang your clothes in this closet here." Mahitha pointed to a large walk-in closet just inside the door.
Marcie was sure she'd misheard and looked around. The three of them were standing in a small room sealed off from the front and rear of the plane with the closet off to one side and what she assumed to be a bathroom door just next to it. She saw that Monty had already begun to remove his jacket and tie, hanging them in the closet. She looked back at Mahitha and raised her eyebrows to confirm she'd heard correctly.
Mahitha looked at Monty, equally confused.
"Ah...sorry. Mahitha, here it is." He handed the attendant a small package wrapped in cloth and tied with a bow.
Mahitha took the package and offered it to Marcie. "Please, if you could remove your clothes and put this on...."
Marcie looked at Monty again, hoping for some kind of reassurance. He had removed his shirt and was unbuckling his belt, apparently unconcerned about being undressed in front of this woman. He looked up to see her confusion. "It's all good. We are entering sacred space." He said it as if they were on the steps of a temple. "We have to leave our street clothes behind. Mahitha is here to help."
She had no idea what any of that meant, but his tone was clear. She took the package and untied the bow, peeling back the wrapping. Inside was a small thong of leather, with a confusing jumble of strands, each about the thickness of her pinky finger. She held it up to decipher what it was supposed to be. It was obvious that it was meant to wrap around her in some way, but she couldn't figure it out.
"It's okay," Mahitha said comfortingly, "I'll help you with that. Please, let me take your clothes."
Marcie handed the thong back to the young woman and hesitantly reached for a hanger. Monty was already naked and had selected a kaftan from the closet, slipping it over his head. It was almost identical to the one he wore at his house, with the exception of additional gold piping around the hem and neck.
Marcie realized there was no question about what was expected of her. As Mahitha busied herself closing the exit door, she hung up her jacket, unsnapped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. Monty watched her as she unbuttoned her blouse and hung it up. Standing in her bra, panties and stockings, her fiancé staring at her she felt herself becoming aroused.
No! It can't be. He can't want me to be turned on by this!
Mahitha had returned, and she too stood watching passively as Marcie stripped. She reached behind her to unsnap her bra, blushing at being the subject of their attention. Mahitha took her bra and hung it up, waiting for her stockings and underwear. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and stripped the remaining clothes off, standing up to reveal herself to the two of them.
Mahitha gathered her clothes from the floor and placed them in a small bin in the closet. Monty leaned against the closet door jamb watching her, making her feel more naked than she had ever felt before. She felt more exposed than any time she had undressed in front of strangers. Having her fiancé watching her strip in front of a beautiful young woman; to be the only one undressed in such a...clinical...way; to not be drunk or partying...none of it was like anything she'd done before. Even more puzzling was how aroused it made her. Her nipples were hardening and she could feel her lips swelling. She crossed her arms across her ribs waiting.
"I'll see you inside," Monty reached over and gave her a kiss, making her feel even more exposed.
She looked up and saw a look of disapproval flash across Mahitha's face, although she wasn't certain, it passed so quickly.
Remember the Indians have different expressions.
Monty's warning from weeks before came back to her. Still, she looked down to see what could have caused the woman's judgment and saw her landing strip of pubic hair. The stubble of a week's growth was just beginning to show, casting a bluish black shadow on her otherwise ivory-white skin.
