She sat up, and re established eye contact with him. She was able to loosen the Corset with ease, thought taking it off was impossible to do elegantly.
“Can you help me with the corset.”
“No, I cannot. I cannot, nor will not touch you in any manner. It’s all right, you will loose no points.” He joked.
“Not even if I choke on a chicken bone?” she said with a Mae West accent.
Mr. Carson laughed “With danger to life and limb, of course, I will render assistance. But otherwise, not a finger my darling. Touching is another kind of session entirely.”
Hm, Susan thought, and what kind of session is that? She decided to stand and wiggle out of the corset, in the spirit of the light hearted moment, and she did so, which she realized shook her ass vigorously, and that had to make Mr. Carson happy. Having the corset off felt wonderful, and stretched her hands high above her, and ran her hands casually up and down her body, under and over the large shirt. She then realized, that despite all her undressing and dressing, she had still not been completely naked. She turned her back to Mr. Carson, and then slowly let the loose garment off her shoulders…
“Oh that is wonderful, yes, please take your time…”
She did so. Inch by inch she let the shirt fall, and reveal more and more of her body. Finally, it lay crumpled on the floor around her feet, and she stepped out of it and turned around and simply stood, fully naked before him, she waited for him to make a request, arching her eyebrows to tell him so.
“Lay back on the couch please.” He told her. She lay back and settled into the couch in the manner she had seen in old French postcards and Impressionist paintings. She let her fingers softly trace over her body, teasing herself more than Mr Carson, she thought. She was feeling more than a little horny at this point, and her fingers began to play with the soft mound of hair that covered her moistening pussy. She had no intention of letting this guy have sex, no matter safe she felt, but a little…
“Ah, Ms Susan, forgive me if I am over stepping, but there is no well, masturbation in this session. For either of us.” Mr. Carson said gently, though his voice was thick with excitement.
“Are you sure?” Susan asked coquettishly.
“Oh, absolutely. That is another kind of session entirely.”
“How many kinds of sessions are there?”
“As many as necessary.”
“Is this allright?” Susan asked referring to her lightly dragging the tips of her fingers about half an inch above her vagina.
“Yes, that is fine.”
“May I touch my nipples?”
“You may softly and respectfully touch any part of your breast, except your nipples.”
“Oh, that’s mean.”
“Respectfully, I don’t care.”
“Good.” Susan answered, meaning it. She was now doing her thing, and he was now totally doing his thing. She knew it, and she reveled in the comfortable glory of the Exhibitionist, she was on display for what she was, not even what she was doing. Sure, one man wasn’t a crowd, but one one person completely focused on you felt intense, and the fact guy wasn’t an asshole with fifty bucks in his dirty hand, who respected, even enjoyed good boundaries made it better.
And Mr Carson watched this lovely person, freed from the corset, smiling and loving herself without hesitation or doubt. He could not tear his eyes away from her lovely body. Most would say she was just normal looking. Mr. Carson scoffed at the word ‘just’. This was a woman, and he could not drink in enough of her with his eyes if he had a thousand hours and Thor’s own Goblet.
Two entire songs on Susan’s playlist went by, with Mr Carson looking, looking, looking and asking Susan to pose for him. Finally Mr. Carson said. “Would you put on your bra and panties please, it’s almost time.” Susan found them and started to put them on, feeling a little wrong at doing something so sexual without having an orgasm.
“Now, would you comb your hair for me?”
“Is it mussed?”
“No. It’s a, well, a cooling down technique. For us both.” Susan asked nothing else, but brought out her brush from her bag, and began to use it. She started methodically, but stroke by stroke, she felt a little more, clothed. She slowed down her strokes and looked back at Mr. Carson, who was smiling. “I love watching a woman brush and fix her hair. I’m not sure why.” Susan was smiling too. And without any other instructions, when she had finished brushing her hair, she began to dress and get ready to leave. Mr. Carson also arose from his seat and straightened up the room, though Susan had no idea what he could be straightening up. It looked a little foolish, but she understood he was doing it to try make her feel comfortable, and such foolishness is permitted, she thought.
“So, well.” She said, as she was standing by the door.
“Ms Susan, thank you so much. You are a lovely person.”
“Thank you. I… enjoyed it.”
“You hesitated…?”
Susan stammered a bit. “No, it’s just that… I never…” And then it tumbled out. “…that’s the sexiest thing I may have ever done, and there was no sex. It’s an odd sensation, weird, like coitus interruptus but not, because I’m all awake and alive but not frustrated…does that make sense?”
“Oh hell yes. But I assume you will be going somewhere to have sex, and soon?”
“Ah, I hadn’t planned on it.”
“You should. I am.”
“Really? Oh, yes, you said that earlier.”
“Oh, indeed. My partner and I should be merrily screwing our middle aged brains our in about an hour.”
“Ok. well.” Susan was a little flabbergasted.
“Susan.” Mr Carson said in a teacher correcting he student voice.