In response to some recent comments about stopping chapters where I do...
Firstly I don't like each chapter to be too long. Secondly, it takes me a couple of hours or more to write one, and I like to see it published. Thirdly, I like to pause a while and try to think up whether (if at all) to progress the story. Thanks for the feedback so far, I hope you like this chapter...
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With a last, wistful look towards her Watcher's closed curtains, and a look down to the road below, Sarah closed the curtains of the hotel room.
She picked up the video camera and placed it on one of the bedside cabinets, toying with its angle. She placed her shoulder bag on the bed, and her jacket, and looked through the viewfinder to test the camera position. She slid off the bed and moved the armchair to a better position, checking the viewfinder once more. Although he had filmed her, the camera was hers, and she was reasonably adept at using it. Also, although she trusted him fairly well, she wanted to ensure that the film remained in her possession, even if she needed his help in editing it.
With a smile of satisfaction she slid her camisole over her head, and tugged it down to cover her breasts and midriff.
He was standing in the bathroom doorway, watching her. She smiled at him, her face still a little coy, despite what had just taken place.
She gestured him to sit down on the chair, and as he did so she changed the film cartridge in the camera, focused it on him, and placed it down on the bedside cabinet once more, adjusting the angle as it began to run.
She reclined against the pillows facing him. She stretched out her legs flat against the bed and pressed her thighs tightly together so that her naked crotch was hidden from his view, with just a v-shape of her thighs hinting at it.
Tom's face flushed, and he gestured vigorously for her to stop filming, pointing to his face and waving his hands from side to side.
She smiled back as reassuringly as she could.
"Relax, Tom. It's not angled high enough to capture your face. It's... it's not your face I want to film... Tom."
Now it was her turn to blush, as she almost used a term of endearment, but avoided doing so. Despite the intimacy of the situation, she wanted to keep free of any emotional ties.
To be truthful, the lack of emotional commitment was also part of the allure. It was a re-affirmation of her defiance, of her secret revenge against her cheating ex-partner and against her controlling, slightly repressive parents. Self-pleasuring was the most intimate act she could imagine, and never before had anyone seen her indulge in it. Yet this man was a virtual stranger whom she had invited to watch and film it. Their lack of acquaintance sent a thrill of delight and shame through her, and she wanted to preserve the illicitness.
Fleetingly she hoped that the camera was set correctly. She wanted herself in the foreground with his body a little further away, rather than wanting to film him only.
She gazed at him, taking in the bulge in his trousers, and his eager gaze upon her. She looked down at the shimmering of her camisole in the soft light, noting the way that it partly hugged her and partly fitted loosely, revealing yet half-concealing her curves.
Her nipples pressed up slightly against the soft, slippery satin as she caressed each orb gently, and with a twinge of delight she felt and saw her nipples begin to tauten as she teased each in turn with her fingertip. She anticipated watching it on the finished tape.