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Extra info for Blue Velvet
The bits and pieces of my trivialities. TheŠmaid hasn’t finished her dusting. I like this room to be tidy. Why doesn’t Nigel do something? The servants are such fools these days. Such stupid girls. There are certain injunctions. One always has them. Certain rules that preserve the order in our lives. The maid Buxton brings the tea. The pink in her cheeks. I watch her hands as she turns the teacup. The broadŠfingers. ” She comes to me. She stands before me. A film of moisture upon her brow. ” I touch one of her thighs.
Does he wear silk at theŠbar? Yes, he does. Black silk at assizes. ŠI hold myself frozen. I must not wriggle. His fingers at myŠnipples. Pulling at my nipples. My flesh. Each nippleŠstretched. Each nipple rolled between his fingers. TheŠpushing at my bottom. At my bulging. I feel him thereŠbetween. His jutting. Nigel likes it thus. He will lift my gown behind and press into me. The weave of cloth against my thighs. Then Mr. Hawley moves. He turns me a bit. His front pressing against my flank. His hand upon my bottom.
Nothing but this rising. My fingers. The buttons. The small hooks that hold my privacies in seclusion. My clothes fall away. ŠMy chemise. My drawers. Not a graceful disrobing. I amŠused to a maid. Now I have nothing but my own fingers. I avoid his eyes. I am reduced to stockings and boots. The garters around my thighs. My skin warmed by the heat ofŠthe fire. I look at the yellowed map of Africa. I stand naked before this man. One of Nigel’s barristers. The fire crackles. I quiver at the crackling.
Blue Velvet by Anonymous