Neon Master

4

Lucas had arrived at Annabel's door a little after twelve, just as he had promised. He willed himself to not be so nervous, something that was very unlike him. He hadn't met a woman he was so invested in, in a long time. Why was he so invested? Was it because he wanted to break her? To show her just how intense obscenity could be? There was so much he wanted to do to her, to fuck her, to torture her, to bite her. But he felt the need for restraint. He had no intention of harming her.

He knocked on the door, taking a large drag from his cigarette as he looked around, waiting, anxious. And when she opened the door she was still wearing her pink dress. He looked her up and down with a light smirk, noticing just now her patent leather pumps of the same color, then he met her eyes. She beamed, and he reveled in how happy she looked. It made his chest swell as his smirk turned into a soft smile.

She had been waiting restlessly for this moment, excited to get even just another glimpse of him. He was so nice to look at, his voice was so deep and arousing, his personality was dark and charming. How did she get so lucky? She wanted him to take her, to show her what it was like to be used by a master. But her stomach flipped in uncertainty, unsure if it would be too much for her. But if earlier was any indication of how she'd react, then there was no reason for concern. Yes, she wanted it, bad.

She stepped aside for him, her smile impossibly wide. He stepped in and she closed the door, her inside convulsing nervously. She followed him into the living room, and this time she was prepared, "I made some coffee, if you'd like some." She paused, doubting herself, "O-or water."

He suppressed a laugh as he turned to face her, "Coffee would be good." 

She nodded, "Ok." She hurried off to get it for him. As she did he roamed around, taking in the subtle decor, the demure paintings on the wall. She had good taste. All the more reason to be attracted to her.

She was back before he knew it, handing him a cup.

"I already had mine," she whispered meekly, but then looked up at him from under her lashes with a stifled embarrassed laugh. There was no reason to be embarrassed, but god was she nervous.

He immediately took a sip, a reason to not say anything, he wasn't much of a talker, not one to get personal. He continued to walk around as he sipped, seeing her sit on the couch out of the corner of his eye. She was just as silent. It seemed neither of them knew what to say. Or do for that matter. But then he saw it, a camera on her desk. He took one more sip of coffee, eyeing it, thinking if he should suggest what he wanted to do. Then it just left his lips, "May I photograph you?"

Annabel had been sitting in nervous anguish, wondering what they should talk about. About his job, about his life outside of work, about interests? She didn't know how to start, he was pacing and it didn't help with her nerves. She felt like her own life was on display for him. Just as he never took anyone home, she never allowed men in hers. And this was why, because it was too hard for her to relax. But when he spoke her ears perked up, though the content of his words made her tense. Take pictures of her? That was an odd request, but it would definitely solve their idle situation. She played with her fingers, but she opened her mouth and out came a soft, "Yes."

He looked to her and smirked, setting his cup down as he picked up the camera. Turning it on he moved a good distance from the couch. "Lay down on your side," he demanded, his work side taking over.

Her eyes grew a little wider, her lips parting, she froze for just a moment before snapping out of it. She blinked, "Alright."

She tipped herself over, laying stiffly with her head on the armrest. He laughed, "Relax. Put your head in your hand, prop yourself up a bit more."