I'm new to writing. I'm also apparently easy to lead around, because I went. And I looked at the 50 Unexplainable Black & White Photos to use for inspiration. And I absolutely LOVED #28. The story behind that photo flashed into my head, clear as a bell. Getting it written was almost as easy.
I hope you enjoy it!
“It was perfect, don’t you think?” Margaret pulled her robe close around her and sat down at the vanity in their room. She began pulling pins out of her hair. “Perfect wedding, perfect reception. Perfect honeymoon.” She smiled at her new husband in the mirror. Carefully, she placed the hairpins into an ivory box before starting to brush out her hair.
“The wedding was perfect. The honeymoon will be perfect.” Charles moved up behind her and started to rub her back. “Why not save that for later? I thought there might be something else you’d rather do.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to that sensitive spot just below her ear.
Though a shiver ran through her at the touch, Margaret pulled away. “I’m almost done. Why don’t you start warming the bed up for me?”
“All right…don’t be long,” As Charles walked away, he began to undo the buttons on his shirt. He shrugged out of it, and tossed it in the hamper. His pants followed soon after.
Margaret watched him in the mirror, admiring his broad shoulders and the way his muscles rippled as he moved. Pants slid past lean hips and down long legs. She was down to the last 10 strokes of her hair when he pulled his socks off. Already headed towards the bed, he tossed the socks behind him, not checking to see if they made it to the hamper.
A muscle twitched under her left eye as one of the socks landed on the floor. ‘Surely, he’ll get it and put it in the hamper,’ she thought. Instead, he folded back the covers and climbed into bed.
Margaret returned the hairbrush to its spot on the vanity. She turned towards him as she stood, and he grinned at her. Slowly, she walked towards the bed, toying with the belt of her robe. Charles’ eyes lit with anticipation as he watched her approach. There was a slight pause in her step as she passed the sock laying on the floor, and a slight twitch of her eye as she walked past it.
At the end of the bed, she began to untie her robe. It fluttered open, giving her husband a glimpse of what he had been waiting so many months to see: black lace fitted snugly over creamy white skin. Pulling the belt free, she crawled onto the bed.
Straddling him, she crept up his legs until she could sit on his lap. She could feel him pulse beneath her, hard and ready. She ran the belt lightly through her fingers.
“How about we try something…a little different, tonight?” she asked.
Charles’ eyes widened: his wife had a kinky side? Fantastic! “Absolutely!” he rasped. “I will try whatever you want!”
She leaned over him, which brought her breasts in front of his face. He moaned as he ran his hands up her body to cup them. Over his head, her face was grim as she straightened out the belt. Neatly, she wrapped it once around his neck and looped the ends around her hands.
Sitting back, she looked down at him. His hands were now on her back, holding her close to him so that he could have his mouth on her. She tugged gently at the ends of the belt, pulling it just tight enough to get his attention.
He looked up at her as she leaned forward. He met her hungry kiss, moaning when she pulled the belt a little tighter. He began to writhe beneath her, caught up in the moment. She bent towards him once more, to whisper in his ear, “You shouldn’t have left your sock on the floor.”
He had just a moment after hearing that statement of warning, enough to realize that it didn’t fit the current circumstances, before she pulled the belt tight. Too tight. He tried to signal her that she was hurting him, but a glance at her face told him that she knew. That she was doing this on purpose.
He tried to buck her off, but her legs clamped down on him, holding him down. He batted at her a few times, but gave that up to try and loosen the belt. A breath, just one breath of air, and he could fight her off. His hands clawed at the noose that was getting tighter and tighter. His vision started to grey. His movements became weaker. Just before he passed into unconsciousness, he thought he heard her sobbing.
Carrying Charles with her, Margaret stepped into her closet. She set him on a dresser, next to the others who did not live up to her standards of perfection. She smoothed his hair into place and gave his cheek a fond pat.
“It’s a shame it didn’t work out between us, Charles. I really thought you might be the one.” She looked down the row at her past attempts. She fixed her father’s beard and straightened her mother’s eyeglasses. Her gaze strayed back to Charles.
“Hmm. I think it’s time for someone with blonde hair…”