"'Sweet old widower,' huh?" He mused on it, turned the words over in his mouth. "Sweet. I can be sweet. I can't promise I'll ever be nice. But I can be sweet." As if to prove the point, he gave her one of his more charming smiles.
"But the widower part? That part's absolutely true. Surprise." And he sighed again. (What was she doing with that altar, anyway? I suppose it's always nice to have something to do with one's hands at a time like this. But that's what pockets are for, really.)
"Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I did misjudge you. I thought you were bold and, more than that, I thought you were shrewd. But perhaps I didn't hold your intelligence in as high an estimation as I should have. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. But yes..."
And now he crept forward across the room, one step at a time, bootheels clicking out the steps like clockticking seconds (such a familiar sound, a familiar thing, these clicky-clocky bootheels and how many miles they'd clocked for him on highways and backroads in another time and another place), slowly stepping, sliding across the room.
And now he stood on the other side of the altar from her. Let the barrier stand as it did for now. He had no objections.
"Yes, perhaps that was the very stupidest" and he pinched up his face as he said it, "thing you've ever done. You didn't realize. You let it happen. You brought it on. But I thank you for it. Innocent ignorance isn't a sin. You hadn't yet caught on--and why should you have caught on by then? I hadn't even sent that--" a giggle "--loveletter to your paramour yet. Even he didn't know then. But I should thank you for your ignorance. And his, for that matter."
He leaned closer, over the altar but not completely across it.
"You asked me to take him--for your pleasure and enjoyment. And so I did, for your pleasure and enjoyment and even for his. You didn't know then what you asked of me, nor did he. You squealed and mewled 'I want to watch you fuck him' but what you said was 'Go. Go and take him and ruin him again.' So I did my lady's bidding, as was her pleasure. And for that, yes, I think I should thank you."
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2013-05-09 06:29 pm (UTC)"But the widower part? That part's absolutely true. Surprise." And he sighed again. (What was she doing with that altar, anyway? I suppose it's always nice to have something to do with one's hands at a time like this. But that's what pockets are for, really.)
"Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I did misjudge you. I thought you were bold and, more than that, I thought you were shrewd. But perhaps I didn't hold your intelligence in as high an estimation as I should have. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. But yes..."
And now he crept forward across the room, one step at a time, bootheels clicking out the steps like clockticking seconds (such a familiar sound, a familiar thing, these clicky-clocky bootheels and how many miles they'd clocked for him on highways and backroads in another time and another place), slowly stepping, sliding across the room.
And now he stood on the other side of the altar from her. Let the barrier stand as it did for now. He had no objections.
"Yes, perhaps that was the very stupidest" and he pinched up his face as he said it, "thing you've ever done. You didn't realize. You let it happen. You brought it on. But I thank you for it. Innocent ignorance isn't a sin. You hadn't yet caught on--and why should you have caught on by then? I hadn't even sent that--" a giggle "--loveletter to your paramour yet. Even he didn't know then. But I should thank you for your ignorance. And his, for that matter."
He leaned closer, over the altar but not completely across it.
"You asked me to take him--for your pleasure and enjoyment. And so I did, for your pleasure and enjoyment and even for his. You didn't know then what you asked of me, nor did he. You squealed and mewled 'I want to watch you fuck him' but what you said was 'Go. Go and take him and ruin him again.' So I did my lady's bidding, as was her pleasure. And for that, yes, I think I should thank you."