I pose for the camera while he watches, intrigued, in his robe. The flash goes off several times and I struggle to remain composed in my position and follow either his or the photographer's directions. "Please remove your corset," he instructs. I hastily obey and am left in just my slip. The photographer's flash blinds me once more. I feel a familiar tickle and then pain in my chest and cough once. I touch my lips with my hand to stifle my cough. "There's blood," he says. I inhale slightly and touch the corner of my mouth. It's wet. I wipe it away. He stares at me intently. "Is it consumption?" he asks me. I nod hesitantly. He sits forward, sliding his hands down his thighs and I try not to stare. Surely he doesn't wish for me to stay now that he knows I'm ill. "Shall I go now, sir?" "Not unless you want to," he stands ever so slowly and approaches me. "May I?" asking when he reaches for the ties binding my slip together in the front. I nod, not daring to defy him. "Sir, you shouldn't," I say, warning him. He shakes his head slightly as he begins to slide the cloth off my shoulders.
"I don't know the word."
"I mean it. I have a sickness, sir."
He gently licks my lips, not kissing me. He dismisses the photographer and then tells me, "I don't mind." He completely slides off the slip and puts his lips to my neck. Sliding around me, his hands wander as he goes. One of his hands slips onto my mound and inside me. I am breathing heavily and I turn my head to meet his mouth with mine. He comes to my front again, slipping his finger out of me. I help him undo the tie on his robe and slide it off of his shoulders to reveal his gloriously naked body underneath. The robe pools in a heap on the floor. He presses me to the wall against which I was posing a moment ago. He caresses my face, his thumb swiping my bottom lip. He enters me against the wall, surprising me. He clasps one of my arms above my head and holds my bottom against him as he finds a rhythm. "I've never fucked a dying creature before," he says, his clean smelling breath feathering over my face. "Do you feel things more deeply I wonder? Do you feel pain?"
"Do you?" I counter, breathless. He grins, still pumping. "Let's find out." I draw my fingernails down his back, cutting him. He grunts and continues harder. My breathing is out of control and I cough blood onto his face. I'm mortified and I cover my mouth in shock. He smiles sadistically and kisses me as I lay my hand back on his shoulder.
