Their wedding night. Just a little something I've been thinking about ;) xo

Charles and Elsie Carson sit quietly by the fire. Both unsure if their silence is caused by sheer exhaustion, or the unsteady and nervous atmosphere between them. Elsie watches her new husband from the corner of her eye, so handsome as he sits in his soft armchair. His head resting back against the deep red velvet, his white shirt unbuttoned down his neck, his pants slightly bunched around his... She quickly pulls her gaze back to her own lap and a shiver runs through her body, settling somewhere forbidden. Unbeknownst to her, Charles takes her in, watches her shiver as she quickly looks down into her empty cup. Their tea had been drained for some time now, yet neither were speaking, nor showing any attempt at reaching for more. Charles could tell she was deep in thought, but this nervous silence was not something he expected from her. She was so beautiful as she sat there worrying her bottom lip, her loosely pinned up hair falling all around her lovely face, the gentle rise and fall of her chest. He abruptly stood up from his chair, mostly to break his current train of thought, and said the first thing that came to his mind.

"We should get to bed, Mrs. Hu...Carson." He catches himself as he uses the name he's called her for over twenty years.

Her eyes widen and she fidgets nervously, looking downward as her cheeks flushed prettily. "Yes..uh..I suppose you're right." She stumbles over her words, her lilt more pronounced in the evening hours when she's tired.

"Yes. Um...It's been a long day," he chokes out, attempting to tug at his missing waist coat. "Yes. I'm sure we're both very tired."

"Yes..it's...it has been a very eventful day." She smiles softly and there's a quiet shyness to her he thinks he's never seen before. It makes him want her even more. He didn't think it was possible to love her more than he already does, but seeing her now, like this, knowing she is finally allowed to be his. Her flushed cheeks, her inability to meet his eyes, her fingers twisting in front of her. How was he ever going to resist her? Did she want him to? Was she afraid he would expect something from her? It was their wedding night after all. Yet he would never take something from her she did not want to give. If only she would give him a sign. She had always led him, usually gently, but sometimes a bit of force from her was necessary. He did not know how to lead them, especially with this atmosphere between them. He wants to give everything of himself to her. But he would wait for her. After all, he has been waiting for nearly twenty years for this moment. Has imagined it in his waking hours, dreamt of it nearly every night he closed his eyes.

Elsie watches his face flush and his eyes avert hers. She smiles softly when she realizes he is even more nervous than she. It was up to her to sooth him as she always has. Her poor darling, proper, man. She takes a step closer to him and reaches for his hand. "Come along, Mr. Carson." She commands softly. His hand is in hers before he's even taken in her words, she's leading him as always, pulling him through their cozy home, shutting off lights. His hand is still in hers as he follows her up the stairs and to their bedroom. She stops at the door and turns, looking down at their joined hands and releasing his slowly. "I'll just pop into the bath for a bit, if that's alright?"

"Yes. Yes, of course. I'll do the same when you're finished." He managed to find the words as images of her bathing in the large tub sprang to his mind. He inhaled deeply in an attempt to control the arousal building within him. As he opened the door to their room, he watched as Elsie entered bathroom and closed the door.

Elsie sank onto the edge of the tub and turned on the hot water. She stood and with shaking hands began to undress, pulling off her wedding suit and laying it gently across their towel stand. Her corset, underthings, and shift soon following. She held the edge of the tub and tested the water before lowering herself down into the welcoming warmth. She sighed quite loudly as she leaned back against the tub and closed her eyes, giving herself a moment to stop and think before she washed and headed back to Mr. Carson...to her husband. She grabbed the cloth and soap from the edge of the tub and ran it along her already eager body. She washed with long brisk strokes, scrubbing her hair before standing and pouring the clean water over her entire body. Every inch of her felt alive and ached in anticipation. Her nipples hardened as the warm water slid down her body, leaving her exposed to the cool night air of the bathroom. She grabbed her towel and dried quickly before sliding into her new nightie and dressing gown.

Charles sunk down onto the edge of their bed. He sat in silence, staring straight into the wall. He had no idea what do, or how to maneuver this evening. He shook his head in an attempt to gather his wits and decided to start a fire in the fireplace. It was still a bit chilly this spring, and he wanted her to be comfortable after her bath. He was just about to rise when he heard a soft sigh coming from the bath. He groaned out loud at the images flashing through his mind. Is that how she would sound with him? If they were...well...intimate. He'd never heard her make a sound like that in all their years together. So many things about her are so new to him, even after all their years together. He finds himself searching desperately for every secret part of her. Every feeling, memory, look, and laugh. Every freckle on her fair skin. His eyes have followed the pale dotting of her collarbone, and he wonders if they continue along her shoulders? Her chest? What they would feel like beneath his lips and tongue? How her skin would taste? If it would be the same as her scent, soft flowers and something sweet. He imagines she'd taste like spring, rich lilac and sugary vanilla. His need for her is growing painful now, a tightness in chest and trousers. He stands and goes to the fireplace, carefully building up a glowing warmth in it's hearth. He is still crouched down and staring into the fire when Elsie slowly pushes the door open and walks across the moonlit room in pale, flowing, silk. He can't help but stare as his eyes travel up her bare calves, the hem of the dressing gown falling just below her knee. His eyes trail up her thighs and bottom, the silk hugging every curve and dip of her bottom, hip, waist, and breasts. When he reaches her face she is smiling at him and he realizes his mouth is hanging open. He quickly shuts it and turns away, knocking into the chair in front on the fireplace. He teeters on his heals as he rights both himself and the chair.

"Well..umm... I just...I'm going to go get washed up then." He manages to blurt out as he escapes out the door. He crosses into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him, leaning against the cool wood. What a fool, he thinks to himself. She must think I've gone mad. I have gone mad. He's completely and madly in love with her. She's gorgeous. What is he doing just standing here? His gorgeous, smiling, kind, and scantily clad wife is waiting for him... On their wedding night...In that gown. Certainly she wouldn't have worn something like that to bed if she had no intentions? He tears his clothes from his body so quickly a button or two are lost in the fray. He lowers himself into the already drawn bath, of course she would do this for him, perfect woman. He scrubs his body and hair quickly, rinsing and standing in such a hurry he loses his footing and falls backwards and out of the tub. He can't help but yell as he tumbles out onto the floor. Within seconds, the door flings open and Elsie is standing there, staring down at him as he lies soaking wet and naked as the day he was born.

TBC...

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