Work Text
***
Alexander loved photographing people, catching moments with the best expressions of the soul, embodied in their smiles, mannerisms, gestures. An artist by vocation, he quickly learnt the modern craft and succeeded financially.
He photographed the royal couple, the scenery of Windsor Castle, horse races with the emotions of the fans. Dead men... Quite a lucrative business, as it turned out.
Now he's in Scotland, home of his ancestors. Coming to the fishing village, he plunged into the uninterrupted working pace of ordinary people, who did not accept idleness, earned crumbs for life and medicine and seemed to be satisfied with everything. They had fun in the evenings, stamping their feet in the ‘Caley’ without remembering the hands that had become cold from contact with live fish.
Among the labouring men he caught sight of Kate, an unusually beautiful, Madonna-like, sweet, young girl.
When he asked her to pose for him, she did not immediately agree. She didn't even quite know what it meant. But he noticed a slight hint of flirtatiousness on her part, which from such a beautiful girl he dared not even expect. He'd noticed how the fisherman boys were hitting on her, which she proudly turned down, leaving them confused. Did she really like him?He lived in a rented flat, quite happy with the payment contract and the privacy. Art demanded silence. Tonight she came to see him for the third time. When they had dinner, he asked if she would agree to be photographed nude.
He didn't give the appearance that he would very much like to see her without clothes, and also to keep the memory of her flawless, pure beauty alive.
The girl agreed. She figured that since he was paying her for it, a candid photo would be more expensive. And she could even buy her sick friend some medicine.She was beautiful.Perfectly shaped girl breasts beckoned buds, hidden behind black locks of long strands of hair, nipples. There was an irresistible desire to nestle his lips to them, gently embrace and touch them with the tip of his tongue. But Alexander did not raise an eyebrow, putting her black shawl on the back of the chair. He took her right hand and lifted it up, bending it slightly at the elbow. He bent over and slightly extended the calf of her left leg forward, bent at the knee.Legs: full in the hips, narrow in the ankle, and graceful feet, slightly curved in the instep.The white, alabaster-like skin favoured the delicate triangle of black pubic hair.As much as he was used to such glamour and tried to behave professionally, the man in his face interfered with the photographer's restraint in every possible way.- Attention, Kate, taking pictures! - he said in a voice unfamiliar to the girl.She froze, gracefully bending out. The shutter of the camera clicked. She quickly grabbed her shawl and sat down, shamefully wrapping herself up.- Tell me where I can find a paramedic here, I'll bring him to your barracks. Blood from the mouth is not to be trifled with. What about your fingers? They're all eaten by salt, all cracked, how are you now? - He frowned, touching her flawless hand, whose knuckles were reddened with swollen knots. - God, you look like an ancient maiden.He forgot himself and ran the pads of her slender fingers over his lips.- I have to go, or they'll close the door and won't let me into the barracks,’ she said hesitantly, taking her hand away from the photographer's.He smiled, nodded and left the room.***He'd never expected Kate to stay with him during the fishermen's riot against the police, who'd grabbed Mary at the market for stealing an orange for her dying friend.But when he returned from the seafront, satisfied that everything was all right, he remarked that she couldn't go to the barracks, soldiers would be there to subdue the fishermen.
She stayed.
He took off his coat, went in after her. Kate took off her blouse and skirt and was left in a simple white shirt. As a goddess, she sat on the edge and unbraided her long black braid, calmly looking at him as at an ordinary mortal, as if she knew the great secrets of the universe.Watson took a dressing gown and went to the bathroom, somehow it was necessary to knock off his maddened nature with a cold shower. When he entered in his dressing gown over his naked body, Kate meekly took him into her arms, removing her shirt before him. His dressing gown fell to their feet. Both collapsed into the soft featherbed of his bed.Her submissive lips and eager body sent waves of heat through him, robbing him of the ability to reason about anything other than how beautiful her supple form was in his arms. The meek responses of the girl's lips to his skilful kisses were pleasing to the experienced lover. The caresses of her trembling hands were disarming. The look of her languid brown eyes from beneath thick black lashes spurred him on.He knew it was Kate's first time. She didn't speak; he could read it in her beautiful gaze. Trying to be gentle with her, he continued to caress his beloved, though he realised he couldn't hold back for long. Lifting her hips and receiving her full consent in the expression of her gaze, illuminated by the moonlight in the window, Alexander carefully entered her moist womb. A slight sigh from her breasts made it clear that his assumption about her maidenhood was correct. Carefully penetrating deeper, then continuing his natural movements, the young man could no longer contain his temper. A few thrusts, a cry of satisfaction, and he nestled exhaustedly against her shoulder, kissing her collarbone.- Thank you,’ Alexander whispered to his goddess.- For what, sir?- For love,’ he smiled, rolled over on his side and touched her ear with his lips. - You look so beautiful in the moonlight. Let's get something to eat and get on with it. I still have so much to teach you.....Kate grinned back.- Naked?- What's stopping us? The curtains are drawn. What's more, we'll have our picture taken together looking so happy! Let's go!All night they had fun. Kissing, having sex wherever they wanted. They took some humorous and beautiful nude pictures. They fell asleep in the morning. Kate didn't go to work that day. Her two fisherman suitors realised she had spent the night with the photographer. And the bride-sharing went away on its own.All late morning, they lounged in bed like newlyweds. No one wanted to think about the fact that Kate was a commoner, a penniless woman, now she couldn't get married. And him, he's the second son of a wealthy English squire. With an artistic photo he can afford to live a life of poverty, but it is unlikely that his mother will bless his marriage to a penniless fisherwoman.Stop, a moment, you are beautiful!Epilogue.Later she wrote to him that she was pregnant.Her fingers, riddled with salt from herring pickling, could hardly bend. It was as if they were stiffened, protesting every movement of her hand, and this little protest felt so simple and right that it made you want to actually give in to their entreaties. The cracks, invisible to the eye, burned with their sharpness with every movement, sending impulses to the brain that with every pulse begged her to let go of the ink pen and put oil on them, for which she had no money. Kate stubbornly continued to write, wrinkling slightly at her own sensitiveness, but here the end of the letter was near. She was writing to her lover, the father of a future child she would never meet again, she and he had known this before, but she had to tell him that they would have a child and she regretted nothing.