She moved with such tentative little steps, her fingers curling about his much thicker ones for comfort as he guided her to the bed. She bent her legs, pushing her knees up onto the silk sheets, bunching her skirt up along her calves and the argyle socks she wore. She still had on her jacket from walking outside though, and had to shoulder it off to expose her bare arms and the white blouse beneath before laying back down.
With her hair splayed across his pillow, eyes covered up and hands at her sides, she looked like a serene sleeping beauty. Those black mary janes pushed out to the side as she gnawed her lower lip once more, worrying the pink flesh.
He didn’t mind that she was tracking in the outdoors into his sanctuary. He instead relished the little bits of imperfection, the small things he didn’t account for.
Over and over he’d fantasized over this scenario, and to see her deviating from what he'd imagined in subtle little ways sent thrills like he’d never known through his body. It was her. The imperfections defined the moment, he realized as he moved away, and it would have seemed fake if she acted too perfectly.
He went to his bureau, grabbing his camera from the top of it and walked back to the foot of his bed. She’d always dressed in such loose outfits, and to see the secrets hidden beneath the baggy cloth was like entering heaven, into a realm he felt so at peace in.
The sweet little woman, so eager to please him, her keeper. Her benefactor.
“I want you to lie still for a little while,” he asked in a husky voice, his throat tightened by his own lust.
Her head tilted to the side, her delicate little chin angling towards his direction as he moved. “You’re not going to leave are you?” she asked, sounding almost heartbroken at the prospect of him going. Though of course, he had absolutely zero intention of doing so.
Otherwise she obeyed, her slender form motionless atop his big, posh bed, her slender limbs so still. As if she were the doll she resembled, frozen in time where some young girl had laid to rest in her doll house.
He exhaled and let his hand click the shutter, capturing the moment forever. Anticipation swirled heavily between them, and he could see those little tells in her body, he read her so easily. She needed someone like him, and she was lucky he found her.
It was a blessing, then, that he coveted her for himself.
He clicked the camera shutter again, from a slightly different angle, keeping the flash off so as to capture the feel of the room. The dark ambiance, the dancing shadows, the strange tint of the fire reflecting off her pale flesh.
“Take off your shoes, sweetie. You’re messing up the bed.”
“S-sorry,” she murmured, her cheeks burning a bright red from the realization she was staining his expensive bed sheets with her outdoor shoes. She bent her lithe legs back one at a time, the muscles in her calves straining and bulging a little as she reached down, undid the clasps and pulled off one, then the other, before trying to reach down and set them at the foot of the bed.
She underestimated the height of the bed, and they dropped with a bit of clatter. “Sorry!” she repeated, her voice a little high pitched from anxiety, worried about displeasing him.
But that gave him the excuse he needed, and he placed the camera aside as he strode towards her. His fingers reached out, encircling her wrists, and he tut-tutted. “You’re going to have to learn to be more careful, little girl,” he chastised, his voice dark.
Never could he recall being so turned on, so desperate for her, and the feel of her delicate wrist in his hand was exquisite.
Her stockinged feet curled up beneath her pert little rear, and she bit down upon her lower lip once more as he took hold of her wrist. Anxiety was written all over her beautiful, porcelain face, and she hung her head a little, still blinded because of the mask.
“I’m so so sorry,” she pleaded, sounding so meek and pathetic, so injured by his reprimand as if she’d failed a very important test. Not understanding that he’d hoped for her to give him the excuse.
But that made it all the sweeter, and his pulse quickened as he sat upon the bed, his larger weight pulling her towards him. “You don’t apologize like that,” he said. “You crawl into my lap like a good girl...” He could barely believe he was saying the words. That they were finally coming from his lips. “Stomach down.”
She froze.
Her whole body went stationary for a moment and he feared he’d gone too far when her lips parted as if to speak, only to shut and remain silent.
The seconds were excruciating, and he feared she’d say that word. That one, simple, bright word that would bring this all to a stop and risk everything he’d planned for.
She was the one to break the tension, however, and to his unimaginable delight she shimmied across the bed and did just as he commanded. Pressing her slender form over his lap, her stomach to his thighs as her pert little rear pushed up behind her beneath her pleated skirt. “I’m sorry,” she murmured softly.
There was no hiding his arousal from her, even though he still wore his finely tailored pants. He was fully dressed, but for his shoes, and that made him feel more in control. More empowered over the trembling leaf of a woman pressed so helplessly to him.
Her sweet apology just made things all the more sensual for him, and he rubbed his heavy hand down along her spine. He touched her, through her clothes, and it was everything he’d dreamed it could be. She was warm, almost a bit sticky in the heated room as the fire danced beside them, and he could note her scent more easily in the air.
“Pull up your skirt, sweetie. It’s time to show me how sorry you are.”
Her first inclination was to obey, and that made his heart sore with want. Her arms immediately moved to do as he said without any thought, and only hesitated afterwards as the thought of the impropriety settled in.
“I-- but…” she muttered, but before he could administer further admonishments she acquiesced. Her hands lowered down and she shakily grasped the edge of her frilly skirt, drawing it up slowly to reveal the round, pale flesh of her bottom.
Those cheeks of hers suited her body--not large, but perky all the same. Round and oh so smooth, with her white panties nestled between the plush cheeks. The cotton fabric cupping her mound, showing her slit betwixt her thighs.