But I Don’t Really Want This, Chapter 21
‘I like these’, he said. It was a Saturday morning. They were enjoying a coffee before leaving to deal with all the Saturday stuff that had to be done. Groceries, dry cleaners, etc.
‘Me too’, she answered. ‘I just wanted to have pictures like this. I won’t be young forever, so it will be nice to have pictures to look back at’.
‘We have plenty of pictures, you know that’, he winked, ‘videos too’.
‘I know, but we aren’t professionals, it would be a lot harder for us to take these kinds of pictures’, she responded, taking the top image from the small stack of large black and white glamour shots that she had collected from the photographer the day before. In it she stood in elegant black heels, leaning back against a narrow wooden column in the middle of a loft-style apartment, looking out a large window several feet away, appearing to bite her nails nervously, as if waiting for someone, her other hand covering her sex. Artisticly done. Technically smut, she knew, but smut for her and him to enjoy. No one else.
‘This is my favourite’ he said, angling the image he held towards her.
‘Yeah?’ she asked, unsure. ‘I was worried about how you would react to that. I mean, I knew you knew what I was doing, but I imagined that you thought they would all be like this one’, she waved the one she held, ‘like these ones’, indicating the rest of the stack, most of which were her sitting, standing or lying around that room, only those where her breasts were visible counting as explicit content. ‘That one is more extreme’.
‘Do you like it?’
‘Yes’, she said nodding. ‘I think I look good, sexy’. Smiling.
‘I’ll say’. He angled it back towards himself and continued examining it. She was at the window now, the elbows of her crossed arms resting on the sill, her chin balanced on her arms. Still wearing the heels, legs together, but straight, bent at the hips, 90 degrees, her body making an L shape, propped against the window. Her breasts hanging, round and firm. Biting her lip. Still waiting for whoever was supposed to be coming. Himself he assumed.
The camera was behind her to her right, pointing slightly up, her face and expression still visible. Her vulva... visible? Not visible? In the shadows, there was something there.
‘Your nipples are fantastic’, he said.
‘I know, I didn’t plan that! But then I realised I was naked with two strangers and I got embarrassed and then low key horny’.
‘Low key? You love that shit’, he winked.
She laughed. ‘But I was supposed to be naked in this situation, they weren’t embarrassed at all, they just saw it as the job’.
‘Can we frame this one?’
‘Oh my God! Why?’
‘It’s beautiful, you’re beautiful. We actually could do with more photos of us around here, not just ones like this obviously, but I do like this one’.
‘I don’t want people looking at my pussy!’
‘We hardly ever entertain people here, neither of us have family in this city, we can take it down when someone we know is coming over’.
It was true, they hardly ever had other people over. In the last year she could only think of two occasions when someone that they knew had actually gotten beyond the kitchen. God they needed new friends.
‘And maybe sometimes we can leave it up, you know’, he winked at her, ‘if it is a trades person, delivering something, installing something, repairing something’. He gave her a nudge.
She didn’t respond.
‘I’ll take your silence as a maybe. We can have a trial run’.
She tried to look like she was sulking in response, but she knew it would be kind of fun, and that emotion did betray itself.
‘He playfully caressed her cheek, very softly, with his fist.’
‘Ughh!’ she stuck her tongue out at him, feigning disapproval.
‘We need some photos of us up around here though, right?’
She nodded, it would be nice.
‘Maybe not this apartment. We can worry about it when we move. We should start looking soon. Actually, we should do the joint bank account soon, if you still want’.
‘Yes, definitely’, she smiled. ‘It would be good to have it done before we start apartment hunting. Before the end of this month?’
‘Yeah. By the way, I love what you’re wearing today’.
‘Me too!’ she smiled back, waggling her eyebrows.
‘You look incredible’.
She waggled her eyebrows again.
‘Have you ever worn heels for these weekend tasks?’
‘Never’.
Three inch heels. Boots, not high boots, they reached maybe four inches above her ankles. A very light, brown colour – is that what fawn is, he wondered. A soft material – suede, he guessed, before telling himself he knew fuck all.
‘I like the way you are laced into them, how long did it take to get them on and closed?’ The lace holes running up the boots were closely spaced, maybe just half an inch apart, and they ran all the way up to the top of the boot. Maybe a dozen pairs of them on each boot that all had to be loosened to get the foot in and then tightened again. The laces were the same color as the boots and slim. There was no slack left in them between any two eyelets.
‘A while, more than a minute for each shoe, but they’re so cool and fun and I want to try walking around on them. I’ll probably take them off when we get back, I just would like to break them in a bit’.
‘No, leave them on, I like them’. An order. ‘Actually, if your feet are sore, you can say it to me’.
‘Thank you’, she smiled, pleased that she had this permission, enjoying the cognitive dissonance of wanting and having his permission while knowing that she shouldn’t need or want it.
It wasn’t just the boots though. It was the whole outfit. The super slim, white capri jeans perfectly traced all the contours of her calves and thighs. So tight that her thighbrows forced their way through the jeans as she sat on the couch.
The top was thin and tight with a high neck and long arms. It was tucked into the jeans. No belt. The outline of her bra was visible underneath...
‘Push up bra?’
‘Yeah!’ she said loudly, defiantly, sticking her chest out, pretending to look tough and cool, a scowl on her face, then laughing. The pendant of her necklace came to rest again against her breasts. She was wearing more jewellery than usual. Two bracelets on one arm, two rings on that hand.
‘I love this in-your-face femininity’, he said. She attempted to stick her chest out further, miming an expression of extreme effort and concentration as she did so.
Make-up. He loved that her skin was so flawless that she didn’t need it, but was choosing to wear it anyway. No addition of colour, just a layer of, some form of powder he assumed.
‘Lips look good’. A slightly different colour than her natural lip colour, making them stand out just a bit more. Matte, not shiny, or oily.
She pursed them, turning her head to him, eyes closed, then blew him a kiss, held her lips in the kiss position, and opened her eyes wide, the pupils directed up and to her top right.
‘Nice move. Did you practise it?’
She laughed and reached for her phone, she opened the gallery and found a selfie video of her practising that particular move.
He laughed and kissed her, and she smiled back. ‘But your lashes?’ he said.
‘Ohh, I wanted to, but I had already spent ten minutes on make-up, so I just did the smallest amount of mascara, because I still had my lips to do, and I didn’t want to take too much more time. I can put some more on if you want?’ she asked expectantly, encouraging him to give the order.
‘I think it would complete the look’. Not an order. She didn’t have to obey.
She clapped her hands together three times, quickly, ‘Yay!’
He watched her ass as she attempted to skip on the heels out of the room, almost stumbling, then laughing back at him.
‘Nicole!’ he called, as she reached the door. She paused in the door frame, side-on, head turned looking back again. ‘Is your hair, ugh, bigger?’
‘Yeah’, she leaned her body forward, resting against the frame, pressing against it, leaving her ass sticking out behind her, Will looked at it. ‘When blow drying this morning I spent more time upside down than usual. Is it OK?’.
‘Yeah, it’s great. Matches the look perfectly.’
‘It’s not, you know, too much? You know what I mean?’
‘No, it’s still fashionable. You haven’t gone back to the 80s’.
She pressed herself more against the frame and kicked the heel of her nearer leg back, then held it up as she smiled in triumph. Will admired how her near breast protruded beyond the door frame. She’s been practising these moves, he realised after she had gone.
She came back after a few minutes. Will was looking at the pictures – the picture – again. He looked up and she batted her eyelashes. He made a play of panting and grabbing his t shirt collar, moving it in and out to get some air flow going, to cool himself down. She did a little dance in triumph, feet anchored, but hips and torso moving to the left and then the right, inviting him to gaze upon her.
He waved the picture at her, and pointed at the window opposite. ‘Adopt the position’, he ordered.
‘Ooohh! Oui’ she pantomimed and minced to the window. He looked on, amazed. He would have to remember to ask her to do this walk again. Each step involved a lot of movement, even though they only carried her a short distance. Each foot landing maybe 12 inches, heel first, in front of the other. Her hips and butt doing a lot of work maintaining her balance.
It was the hand, arm and shoulder movements that he really loved though. Her arms were kept straight but at a shallow angle out from her body, not pointed straight down. They moved forward and back with the swing of her shoulders. Her wrists bent to keep her hands pointing away from her body – almost as if for balance – parallel to the ground, palms down. Like a doll would move its arms when walking if it had come to life.
She reached the window and adopted the position, but instead of looking out the window, she looked over her left should at him, her hand still resting on her crossed arms, biting her lips, feigning desperation. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, the movement going through her hips, swinging her butt.
‘S’il vous plaît monsieur’, she said in a breathy, high pitched voice. ‘I av been zooo gooood’, she fluffed the ‘Allo, ‘Allo accent.
He walked up to her, placing one hand on her far hip. He looked down at her body, admiring the slim waist. The top tucked into the jeans looked good.
She was looking up at him, head still rested on her arms, biting her lips more now, pretending to breathe heavy as if overcome with lust, somehow managing to imbue the fluttering of her lashes with both a desperation and the belief that she would be denied relief.
‘Being good in the past, is not enough to be rewarded. You must be good all the time’, he said sternly. He moved his hand and attempted to trace her labia through the jeans. She closed her eyes, to enjoy the sensations. ‘Do you understand?’ Her eyes stayed closed.
‘Do you understand?’ he repeated louder, taking his hand away. Her eyes opened again, her lips too, a whine at this loss escaping. She wiggled her butt and pleaded with her eyes.
‘No, I don’t suppose such a silly and pretty little creature like you could ever truly understand. She feigned sadness, on the verge of tears. Her eyes as wide open as they could be, as sad as they could be, begging.
His expression softened. ‘I can’t stay mad at you’, he said, stroking her cheek, her chin, then her hair. She moved her head in reaction to his caresses, attempting to follow his hand, to not lose contact, her eyes closed now, savouring his touch. ‘I promise you, that if you are good when we are outside today, if you’—wagging his finger—‘behave yourself, then I promise you that you may have an orgasm afterwards.’
‘She sharply inhaled breath, her eyes going wide again, and her mouth opened wide in surprise and joy. She attempted to nod her head enthusiastically, as best she could with her head in that position. They both started laughing at the charade.
She stood up and flung her arms around him and kissed him deeply. He broke off. ‘If you’re really good I’ll tell you what a cheap slut you are too.’
‘Yeah!!’, she said deeply, adding extra bass to her voice, and loudly, as if on stage without a microphone. ‘Fuck me like a BITCH!’ They both collapsed on each other laughing.
‘By the way’, still in each other’s arms, once they had stopped laughing, ‘I have a surprise for you later. Something that we can do.’
‘What!’ She looked at him excitedly. ‘Do together? Sex?’
‘Sex-based. No more questions. I don’t want to spoil the fun.’