Thursday, November 24, 2016

Watching You Work - Part Two

The Way Back to Play Novella  
Changing the Game:   
Part Two
Read Part One Here
“Sorry,” she heard Dare murmur as he stood to her side, his camera held close to his face. “Never mind me. You’re doing perfect. Just keep going.”

She bit her lip again. How could she keep writing now? The magic was gone. The momentum interrupted. All the words that had come spouting out like a fountain now leaked like a faulty sink.

“Okay,” he said, seeing her through his observant lens. He let the camera dip to meet her gaze, his black eyes sharp and shining. “Enough of those. I think I’ve got some great shots anyway. How about we do the other ones?”

Kat saved her work and moved to close her laptop, when he stopped her. “Not yet,” he told her. “You’re beautiful when you write, do you know that, Kat?” He looked at her, his gaze taking her all in appreciatively. “Your skin flushes and your eyes widen. Your entire body goes on focus, but especially your face. It’s as if I can almost read your story reflected in in your eyes.” A smile spread across his gorgeous face. “I didn’t know that writing was such a full-bodied, expressive experience.”

Kat blushed. “Okay.” She shrugged. “So what should I do?”

Dare sauntered over to the patio set near the house, picking up a folded bit of cloth from the table. Kat’s eyes widened as the fall of forest green flowed from his hands. “Max gave me this.” He brought her robe to her, holding it out to her. “Insisted we use it.”

Kat took the robe from him, felt its soft sift of cloth against her fingers. It felt right. Perfect.

She was grateful when Dare stepped away—fiddling with his camera and studying the light and lines of the space—so she could change without him watching her. It wasn’t that Kat was opposed to nudity or to people witnessing it—there was a time where she’d performed public acts of debauchery on an almost weekly basis—but there seemed something acutely naked about all of this.

Kat stripped off her pretty, professional wear. Each button undone on her shirt felt like a step toward some familiar destination. As she slipped off the shirt and skirt, it was as if some great weight were being lifted.

She reached for her stockings, held up by thin garters.

“No,” Dare told her, suddenly turned and facing her again, “leave those. Leave the shoes. Leave everything else.”

Kat kicked the discard clothes off her heeled feet, bending low to pick them up off the lawn. She felt the first snap of the camera with her back turned, her legs crossed, and her ass up in the air.

Putting the clothes up on the patio table where the robe had been, she turned to face the photographer. She took a deep breath, suddenly aware of how her heaved breasts pushed at the delicate, white, transparent lace cups. Her tiny nipples—hard under the camera’s attention—were dark, puckered blooms beneath the patterned scoops. Lifted high, her breasts seemed like an offering, sweet and asking. Innocent and sacrificial.

The matching panties—the boy-cut somehow emphasizing their delicate femininity—were a cloud of lace cut straight across the front of her thighs and around the soft curve of her ass, brazenly hiding nothing yet modestly showing so little.

The stockings, white with thin, unadorned white garters, stretched high on her thighs, leaving only the barest inch or two of toned, tanned leg exposed. The garters climbed high over her panties, the belt cinching just below her waist.

It was all the innocence of a virgin with all the knowledge of a wife. It was chastity and carnality met. Merged.

Kat slipped on the robe, the dark green adding an earthy element to the image.

“Perfect.” Dare’s his voice was a little rough as he brought the camera close. He took pictures of her standing there, a nymph in the woods. Ones with the robe open, others with it closed, some with it half-hanging off while she shot the camera coy looks.

He took pictures of her writing. Her laptop resting in her lap, its humming heat hot against the skin of her thighs. Some with her on her stomach, her feet dangling in the air as she bit her lip, lost in words while the screen covered non-typing, naughty hands that toyed beneath lace.

He took pictures of her with her novels. The covers spread wide to conceal her as she peeked over the top. Ones with the pages held back with one hand as the other cupped a breast or between her thighs, over and under lace.

Kat saved her first novel, The Taming School, for last. She lifted the paperback, the jacket cheap and thin—from the very first printing—when the story was little more than a memory kept and a dream wished. She touched it with wonder. She had other copies, ones from later releases—ones with better covers and fewer typos inside—but this was the first. This was special.

“Read it to me,” she heard Dare say.

“What?” She giggled, feeling suddenly shy.

“Read it to me,” he repeated, urging her sweetly. “I’ve never read it, but I want to hear it from you.”

She shrugged, feeling somehow much more naked. “From the beginning?”

He snapped a picture. “From your favorite part.”

So she opened the book and paged through the familiar passages until she found the section she was looking for. She cleared her suddenly thick throat and began to read.

Dare let her read, never stopping her, never interrupting. Soundlessly, he would position her—sit her down, lay her back, stand her up again—all over the back yard, never allowing the stream of words to cease.

Kat barely noticed him touching her, moving her, adjusting her, so enraptured in her story. She could see each scene in her mind, her body remembering everything. The white lace was wet against her pussy; she felt it with each slick slide of her thighs as she moved. Her small breasts felt heavy and sensitive, each accidental brush against her flesh sending shivers through her. Her whole body seemed slow—its attention centered elsewhere—as it was coaxed to move this way and that.

But her mouth—her tongue, teeth, and lips—were quick as they flit to shape and form the words. Her breath was shallow, pulling in just enough to pass the next phrase.

She hardly noticed Dare circle her, capturing photos as he stepped. She only stopped when she heard Max ask how they were doing.

Dare let go of his camera, the device dropping to his chest in a gentle swing. “I think we’re good.” His voice was low, distracted and ravenous. It shocked her as she met his gaze, the heavy, hooded look he gave her, no longer hidden behind his lens like a heated stroke. She fought to keep her gaze from dropping, from seeing the effect—the toll—his shots had taken on him too. “I think I got what I needed.”


Find out how Kat & Peter met in my novel The Taming School from Sizzler Editions that explores discovering kink!

Please check out what happens next with Kat & Peter in my story in The New Smut Project's anthology!
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See what happens after Kat & Peter's happy ending in my story from Deep Desire Press!
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See how Kat & Peter will face our uncertain future in Coming Together's defiant, charity anthology that celebrates diversity and equality!
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Please check out my story "Overtime" in this sexy collection & let it whisk you away from the office and into sixteen stories that explore sex in the working world.

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