'You know how to sew, right Chelsea?' Dean asked.
Dean knew Chelsea could indeed sew. She was quite good at it. He knew because he followed her posts on Facebook and Instagram. It was the only way they kept in contact, now that they were studying their post grads in different universities. It was a picture she had posted that had sparked an idea in Dean's head. He had seen the exact same photo, with the same caption while browsing reddit. He knew he had found an anonymous account of Chelsea's. And he couldn't help but snoop. Dean had harboured romantic feelings for Chelsea for so many years now. He felt such a rush at the thought of stumbling upon hidden thoughts of hers. So, he snooped. And he found the timid girl that he had a crush on had a few unexpected kinks.
That was a few weeks ago now. A few weeks before this reunion dinner. All the old teammates from the martial arts crew got together once a year, when everyone was in town visiting their family over the Christmas period.
'Yeah, I mean I can take pants up or sew a button.' Chelsea responded humbly.
She's so modest.
Dean observed. He grinned. He had some pictures in his back pocket that were anything but modest. He felt giddy with excitement as he spun his lie. 'Awesome! One of my favourite shirts had the pocket torn off on Christmas day by my little niece. Reckon you could swing by and take a look? See if its salvageable? The wife has another family shindig tomorrow, and I'd love to wear that shirt...'
It was a lie in more ways than one. Carly was hardly his wife. She was a mate who needed to get her conservative parents off her back about settling down. She was a lesbian and had no intentions of doing that, so her and Dean, after returning from a group vacation overseas, claimed that they eloped. Neither of them put much effort into the charade, except when back in their hometown. They only really put the show on for Carly's parents. But Chelsea didn't know that. And Chelsea also didn't know that there was no shirt that needed mending. Dean just needed to get her into his house.
She smiled at him, her light brown eyes twinkling. 'I can definitely take a look. I've got no plans and a pocket shouldn't take too long anyway. If it's something I can do I could easily have it back to you later tonight or early tomorrow morning. The motel I'm staying at isn't far from your old house. Actually, I think it's just across the road. But no promises! I'm not exactly a tailor.'
Perfect.
Dean was worried that she would decline to help him, and he would have to come up with some other plan.
But so far, so good!
'You're a lifesaver Chels!'
'No promises!' Chelsea reiterated. Her cheeky smile seemed so innocent to Dean.
How can she seem so cute and naïve and yet at the same time harbour such depraved fantasies?
A couple sitting across from Dean rose and declared that it was time for them to leave. Only 8pm, but they had kids at home.
Understandable.
Dean considered that it probably wasn't a bad time to make a move anyway. They'd all had a good couple of hours to catch up on the news of the year and enjoy some good food.
I wouldn't mind some desert though...
Dean stole a glance at Chelsea. She was watching the other two teammates leave. Her dress showed all her curves.
I can't wait...
'I think I'm ready to call it an evening too.' He announced. 'Hey Chels, if you're good to go, why don't you come straight back to mine and you can sus out my shirt situation? Pretty please?' He gave his best winning smile. He knew the ladies loved that one.
C'mon, Chels, say yes?
'Sure, no problem.' Chelsea shrugged.
Alright!
In his mind, Dean fist pumped the air. Everything was working out just like he planned.
Everyone said their farewells for another year and Dean lead Chelsea down the road to his house. They made small talk as they strolled. As they approached his two-storey home, Chelsea quickly darted into the cheap inn, and grabbed her sewing supplies.
She's so enthusiastic, so eager to help.
Dean remarked.
'Of course, you take a sewing kit with you when you travel. Never change Chels.'
Such a wholesome girl. Such a turn on...
As Dean showed her inside his house, they were discussing the old days in the dojo.
Chelsea was saying: 'I remember the basics and most of the self-defence, but things like escorting someone off premises and subduing an intruder, I haven't had to practice at all, so I don't really recall'
Dean kicked his shoes off and dumped the contents of his pockets onto the hallway table.
Oh, you've just left yourself wide open now Chels...
'Oh, that's easy. I haven't had to use it of course, but I do remember it, Here, I'll show you.'
Dean waited as Chelsea slipped off her heels, the curve in her leg showed that she maintained her fit physique. She chuckled a bit before speaking again. 'Alrighty then, and then I'll take a look at your shirt. So,' She stepped slightly closer to him and reached her hand out towards his wrist.
Oh, no, I'm running this show.
''I think it's easier if I show you.' He asserted. Secured her wrist with little else but his thumb, applying pressure so that her wrist and arm twisted, and Chelsea was forced to walk where he guided to avoid bending her arm in ways it simply wouldn't, or shouldn't bend. Dean's heartbeat sped up as he gipped her. He had gone over this scenario so many times since finding her reddit account. In none of his imaginings had he pictured her providing such a convenient opening for him to overpower her.
This is too good to be true...
Dean's ego and pulse both skyrocketed. He led her by her tippy toes to the master bedroom, where the non-existent shirt supposedly waited to be examined.
'Ah, I see. I was almost right' Chelsea's voice was unsteady.
Am I hurting her? Am I scaring her already? I haven't even begun...
'And that's how you do it' Dean said as he released her, keeping up the pretence of merely demonstrating self-defence techniques to her.
Chelsea seemed oblivious to any other motives Dean may have had. 'Well hopefully I never do need to use it, but thanks for the refresher. Is the missus still out or something?' She asked as she looked around. The house was dark, of course no one else was home.
Dean almost laughed.
She's so
oblivious. It's endearing. Just you and me, Chelsea.
'Carly is staying with her family a few suburbs away tonight. Her sister just had a baby so they're all busy fawning over the new bub and helping prepare for the massive influx of cousins and distant relatives tomorrow.' The pre-fabricated story came easily to Dean. He thought he saw a bit more colour rise in Chelsea's cheeks.
Does she feel unsafe, alone in a man's home? Maybe she's thinking about the things I could do to her. She can't possibly know what I have in mind.
His eyes lowered slightly as he took in her form. That dress, clinging to her breasts and her hips.
Does she know how fucking hot she is?
'So where is this shirt? I'll see if I can't do a quick hand job on it.' Chelsea offered guilelessly. Dean supressed the urge to laugh, simply letting a mischievous smile split his face. He felt a twinge in his pants as his manhood reacted to the idea of Chelsea jerking him off.
Oh, you have no idea...
Seeming to read his thoughts, Chelsea lowered her face, attempting to conceal her blushing cheeks. It was so adorable.
'I mean, like, hand-stitch it, not like... I didn't mean... obviously...' She was trying so hard to not look at Dean. It just fuelled the fire in his groin. His grin became broader.
First,' He started 'I'll show you the second bit, and then we can get to the hand job hey?' He flirted with her. His mind still entertaining thoughts of Chelsea licking her lips in concentration as her hands rapidly beat on his cock.
Stay on track.
He reminded himself.
Chelsea started to raise her head again. Before she could, Dean made his play. He moved swiftly across the carpet, spinning Chelsea around to land face first on his mattress, sliding his feet inside hers to widen her stance and bending both arms behind her back. He held them in place with one strong hand, the other exerting enough pressure on her head that she couldn't turn to look. He pressed her down into the bed with his own weight. She was subdued. Dean felt the heat in is member transform into hardness. His erection pressed through the material of his pants. He was sure Chelsea could feel it between her butt cheeks.
Good,
he thought.
Let her feel it. Let her imagine what's coming.
'Wha-' Chelsea seemed very confused. She couldn't even form a complete word, let alone sentence.
She's so innocent, even if her fantasies aren't.
Dean leant a little bit closer to her ear so she would hear his whisper. 'Too fast?' He breathed into her ear.
As if Deans question had allowed her to restabilise, Chelsea responded. 'Oh, the whole "subduing an intruder" thing... I didn't quite catch how you did that.'
I didn't mean for you to.
Dean thought. He shifted a little, his crotch rubbed against the fabric of her dress. He wanted her to feel his arousal at her defencelessness. She went on as if oblivious, or perhaps in denial: 'Maybe I should take a look at that shirt pocket and- '
'There is no shirt,' Dean admitted.
Well, it's all out in the open now. Time to drop the charade.
Dean could almost see the cogs in her brain turn as Chelsea attempted to make sense of her situation.
'Umm...' She started. She moved slightly, enough to feel how powerless she was in this position. Dean had her feet in such a way that she couldn't get a grip on the carpet. The strength with which he held her hands was so that she was unable to fight back. She would have been able to otherwise, Dean knew how well Chelsea could fight. They had been sparring partners what felt like a lifetime ago. But she had all but given herself to him and there was nothing she could do from this position.
Is this what turns her on? Just like it turns me on?
Dean took measure of the helpless woman beneath him, and he became harder.
'Chel-sea' Dean teased her in a sing-sing voice, mocking her. He could see her pulse quicken in her neck. Her heartbeat accelerated. He knew her adrenaline was kicking in.
but is it fear or pleasure. Or both maybe? I know you're into this kind of thing Chelsea. I know the online groups you're a part of.
He breathed in her scent, at the nape of her neck.
