“It was Sharifa, you remember her, my friend from Oxford. It’s her father’s birthday and she’s invited us both to the party.”“Oh, I don’... know,” said Gwenllian, “what would I wear?”‘Next to nothing, while we are in the harem,’ thought Nicola, but aloud she said, “Oh anything cool. It can get hot there.”“Where?”“Kobekistan, where she comes from.”Gwenllian sighed resignedly, “And how do we get there? Flying costs money and we could hardly walk there, now could we?”Nicola decided that part of the. She knew she was a hot and she knew how greatit felt to look at someone who was hot, and she had wanted to share. Itwas like she was in on the joke. To her, getting lusted over was likegetting a high five from a passing stranger.She didn't even see anything wrong with this. She liked making peoplefeel good. It didn't matter to her if that meant fucking them or justgiving them something nice to stare at. For her, these sorts of thingsjust brought more happiness into the world. Her being a slut. More

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