1. Scarlet


    Date: 9/7/2015, Categories: Historical, Author: Saucymh, Rating: , Source: LushStories

    itself had been cleared. Gone were the pots of make-up, the brushes and hair accessories that had littered its polished surface moments earlier. In their place, laid out on a red velvet cushion, was Miss Scarlet’s exquisite pearl necklace; three strings of the finest pearls with a diamond encrusted, gold clasp. The necklace, her first gift from Sir Henry, was worth more than I’d earn in a life time. I crept towards it, unable to resist the temptation to take a closer look. This wasn’t costume jewellery, it was the real thing. My fingers gravitated towards the tiny, white beads then withdrew. It wouldn’t be right to touch. I wondered at the wisdom of leaving it out on display. Many a friend would turn thief to get their hands on such an item. Turning away, I draped the gown over Miss Scarlet’s ornate walnut changing screen - another gift from Sir Henry. Miss Scarlet had a wealth of oriental treasures in her dressing room; material tokens of affection from a gentleman who’d made his fortune trading in the Far East. Lucky her. I was about to leave when I remembered Miss Scarlet’s laundry. I spotted her white cotton petticoat and bloomers discarded behind the screen. I scooped them up, frowning as I uncovered her corset hidden beneath. Her clean undergarments were there too, neatly folded, as I’d left them. I picked up the corset…where was Miss Scarlet and what exactly was she wearing? It was while I was contemplating Miss Scarlet’s attire that my problems began. It all happened ...
    so fast - footsteps, girlish giggles, a door creaking on its hinges. The gas lamps flickered as two bodies swept into the dressing room, tangled together in a passionate embrace. I should have stepped out from behind that screen. I should have apologised and left, straight away. Instead I froze. My feet seemed to be nailed to the spot, my eyes glued to the crack between the panels of the changing screen. It was Miss Scarlet’s laughter that held me riveted, that delightfully playful, tinkling giggle. And when I saw her…well, my heart fluttered like a bird in a cage. I had never seen a woman more beautiful, or more exposed. Miss Scarlet was wearing a sheer silk dressing gown of oriental design, an insubstantial wrap through which I could make out every contour of her body. I held my breath, hand flitting across my mouth at the realisation that she was naked beneath. Her nipples poked at the fabric and bare legs peeped through the slit in the material as she moved. Goodness, had she been walking round the theatre like that? I couldn’t help admiring her audacity. And she looked absolutely gorgeous. Always divinely attractive on stage, Miss Scarlet was even more beautiful without the heavy make-up and styled hair. Her face looked radiant and her hair, free of adornments, hung over her shoulders in a rich mass of auburn curls that glowed like embers in the flickering gaslight. I marvelled at its lustre. She looked like a flame, scorching her lover. The gentleman, in whose arms she ...
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