Oct. 25,
David:
Thanks for getting me hot and bothered all day while I'm trying to get some work done. I think you should take off my apron next since I've had such a long day at work. Also, I wanted to let you know a little secret - underneath my dress I'm wearing a sexy black garter belt with garters hooked to my fishnet stockings, and a beautiful black lace bustier. I'll be waiting in anticipation for the next scene...
C
Oct. 26,
Mon Amoureux:
Act I, Scene III
Gwenevere: Merci, monsieur, for helping mes with my headband. But now I thinks I needs 'elp taking off my apron, as etz is sooo duuurty.
I lift you slightly so that you're kneeling straight up and wrap my arms around your waist. The position puts my face close to your neck. I can smell your perfume and I have an uncontrollable desire to bury my face there, to live with your smell forever, and to feel the softness of your body pressed against mine. You arch your neck to the side as I move closer, hoping I would take advantage of this opportunity to do... what? Should I allow my lips to dance softly across your neck, then trace the line of your collarbone from your shoulder down toward the base of your neck? Maybe I should be more forceful, planting a mix of firm kisses and tiny bites as I travel the path from your shoulders downward to your chest, my teeth and lips setting off hot sparks of pain and pleasure shooting though your body. I hope that you feel the same desire and passion for me as I do for you.
*****
He pulls me closer to him and as his face moves closer to my neck I find myself trying to press my body nearer to his. My lips are yearning for the taste of his skin that is so close. But he is all business-like, keeping me just a few inches away from him. His chin rests between my neck and shoulder -- I can feel the burn from his stubble on my skin -- and it sets off an itch that starts moving from the top of my head to the center of my body.
His hands move right to the string of my apron. They don't move down my back. No caresses or massages. He is very business-like in his motions. With the exception of his chin resting on my shoulder -- for support or to see what he is doing, perhaps -- he is very formal from just a few moments ago. It is almost as if my boss is taking off my apron, you think, as he unites the bow and tosses the apron on the couch, near his bag of tricks.
He pauses for a moment that seems like minutes, and then his hands return to the small of my back. He presses me closer, our chests are touching and his lips start to glide down my shoulder, across my collarbone to my neck. So soft and gentle, my heart beats faster as his reaches my neck and the lacy collar I'm wearing. He is such a baaad boss, but he knows just the right places to turn me on. His kisses travel up my neck toward my chin as he unclasps the collar and tosses that somewhere behind me. Those fingers then trace the outline where the collar was -- light feathery touches all over my neck and to the top of my chest. His lips are so close to mine, I'm moving my head to try to search his out, but I keep missing.
My hands are on his back, softly rubbing him, and then moving up to the back of his neck. His mouth moves to my ear lob and his gently pulls it with his lips, an ever-so-slight nip that turns me on so much. His heat and passion are returning again, and I close my eyes as I allow him to take control. The position puts my face closer to his ear and neck, and I take the opportunity to return a few kisses, but it only lasts for a moment. I feel his finger nails lightly scratching down my arms, and he pulls off the lacey wristbands, placing them on the couch beside us. My arms are still around him, but he pulls my hair back so that again we're staring into each other's eyes.
The Lord of the Manor: Mademoiselle, I am not happy with your performance today.
Gwen: (Shocked): Buts monsieur, I deed evereeting you asks me. I duuusted, I picks up zee paipers bending ats my waists sos you can sees up my tiny leetle skirt.
I try batting my eyelids at him and flash a little pout.
TLotM: But you did not practice your accent. Say "monsieur."
Gwen: Monsewer...monsour...
