Lady Katherine is aching to touch herself.
The sitting room was bathed in a glorious afternoon light. The sun beamed in through the lead-paned windows and danced across the opulent furniture, fingering it covetously. The silver tea set glinted brightly, and Katherine could see the incessant blinking of the red light on Tom's camera in the corner of her eye.
She poured herself another cup. It looked too tepid to actually consume but she was trying to keep herself busy.
This was another test session. Tom was insisting on them so she'd be more natural in front of the lens. She supposed he was right, and she knew she needed to forget it was pointing at her.
Tom's easy manner helped a lot, and over the week as they went through this 'training' he'd chatted away and relaxed her greatly. By simply following her round the house with his expensive HDCam all day, she had become so accustomed to his presence, she did sometimes forget he was filming her.
Tom was a filmmaker.
At least, he wanted to be. He was actually struggling to make ends meet, but this project had interested him, and not even in a lascivious way.
He'd gone up to St Andrew's with her when she was 18, one of the few lower middle-class chaps to have made it in. They had quickly become friends, purely platonic, but had drifted apart slowly after they both dropped out a year later.
She'd immediately thought of him when she had the idea of having someone film to her. They were relaxed in one another's company, to the point they had often seen each other naked, but there was no attraction. It helped that he was a brilliant cameraman too of course, and when she told him what she planned, he jumped on her and made her really think about what it was she was doing.
Not from a moral perspective, from an artistic one. He'd read her blog of course, even commented on it, and he argued that the most alluring part of her first video was its verite; it's truthfulness. She wasn't acting, playing up to the camera, or faking any of her arousal. If she was going to do this, she should do it honestly, and be completely genuine and natural -- hence this orientation.
He'd just told her she was ready, and that they should make the first new video tonight.
She was mulling it over. To be honest, she was fantasising about it; planning her outfit even down to the delicate ankle bracelet she wanted to wear.
Tom had also insisted on some ground rules -- sensible ones at that, ones that had not occurred to Katherine.
Although Tom would be a visible presence behind the camera, her confidant almost, he said he should never join in. When he said it, Katherine automatically agreed, but later she could foresee a few hiccups. She raised them with him.
"What if," she said during a filming session in the garden, "I'm writhing around with a delicious little blond?"
"Mm?"
She knew his type, and continued with a grin, "And she sticks her bum into the air, right by your camera." She also knew how much he liked a pert little bottom. "Are you really telling me that you could resist giving it a little squeeze?"
She watched him thinking about it. Finally, he took a breath and declared, "Okay, I'm allowed to touch the other people."
That had made her laugh and she readily agreed.
The other thing he'd insisted upon was Neil. A good-looking if incredibly geeky friend of his, who was to administer the website. Apparently video needed a lot of bandwidth and its own server to run properly, so she had written Neil a blank cheque and told him to buy what he needed.
That's why there was now a server room in the wine cellar.
They agreed their fee would simply be room and board at her little cottage. With the ground rules in place, Neil had gone to work revamping Lady-Katherine.com and Tom had gone to work making Lady Katherine feel comfortable in the presence of a glass eye.
She sat back on the chaise-longue, and looked at him. "Okay, tonight it is."
So used was she to seeing the camera hovering at his face, it was like a new appendage; he actually seemed odd without it. He shifted it from one hand to the other and re-framed her slightly.
Yes, she thought, sinking back into the thickly woven upholstery, that thin silver streak dangling from her ankle would look splendid.
She leant over and lifted the dainty bell, giving it a ring. The tea was cold and stewed; she saw no reason for it to still be here. After dropping the bell gently back on the table, she swung her long slender leg over her knee and stroked at the nylon coating.
She felt rather than saw the camera drop slightly. She'd become used to it lingering on her flesh, and she knew he was tracing the lens up her thigh. She liked the feeling; as she liked the feeling of it being close to her face filming her lips, or hovering near her cleavage. It was starting to feel a little like a lover.
Katherine's tongue emerged and moistened her lower lip, though she didn't know it. She fiddled with her hemline and made small talk with Tom as the camera explored her. Though he was concentrating on his shot, he could always converse naturally as he did so.
The conversation tailed off as her mind drifted to thoughts of tonight.
His question suddenly broke the silence, "Are those stockings?"
"No," she shook her head, "Just tights."
"Liar," he smiled, "I can see a little bit of the lace tops."
Katherine blushed slightly, but only because she'd been caught in a lie. She never wore tights, always hold ups. They weren't exactly comfortable, but she loved the feeling of them.
"Show me," Tom instructed matter-of-factly.
With a little sniff, she shifted slightly and pecked at the black material of her dress, tugging it slightly higher and giving him a better view of the dark lace embroidery that clung tightly to her thigh.
"Do they feel nice?" he asked, prompting her.
"Very," she nodded, "I like to feel the cool air teasing the naked tops of my inner thighs."
"Show me."
She blinked, feeling her lashes fluttering, then uncrossed her legs and spread them a little. The lens expanded behind the glass as he zoomed in slightly, and she curled her fingers against the tops of her thighs and caressed the dress higher. A little flash of her pale skin emerged, framed by black lace and her dark hemline.
"No underwear?" he asked.
"You can't see that, surely?"
"No, not really."
Her knees separated a little more, and she felt the hem slipping higher. The lens winked in the sunlight, peeking at her there for a moment, before lifting to examine her face. Without thinking about it, she licked at her lower lip once more. This was further than they had been before and it was really starting to feel warm in here.
