Thread: A Tale of the Old West (Isabelle & Master Machiavelli)

Mal watched absently as his little girl undressed before him as she had done a thousand times previously but this was somehow different. He watched as her long and delicate fingers worked the hooks, buttons and fasteners which held her clothes together, and then as her clothes slipped away and Stella moved to the basin, he became more aware then ever of how she moved, and he took in each curve of her body, from the ample and creamy mounds of her breasts, tucking downward and inward to her thin waist before slipping back around the curve of her hips. And how her hips moved. Mal caught himself, relieved by the fact that his little peach hadn't noticed he'd been staring at her. He worked off his boots and glanced up for a moment as Stella ran the cloth over her face and arms. The seat he'd taken provided him a perfect vantage point to see the reflection of his sweet girl's beautiful face, framed in firey locks as well as her cleavage, all reflected in the mirror as she stood over the wash basin and once again he caught himself staring perhaps a moment too long. Again he returned to his own affairs as Stella placed the washcloth aside and picked up her clothes and dipped behind the divide. The man shook his head. What was he thinking? His little Sure Shot had grown into a gorgeous young woman, right under his eyes and now he had caught himself seeing her as a woman and no longer his little girl. He ran his fingers through his short and silvering dark blonde hair as he took it all in. Malachi stood and walked to the basin, poured the water into a nearby bucket and refilled it Stella had left him enough to wipe down as well. He wiped the dirt from his face, enjoying the cool feeling of the water evaporating on his skin before dipping the cloth and running it over his muscular chest and arms. Just then Stella asked for his help and he looked over to the blind, just able to make out the trace of her silhouette behind her. Of course, my peach. He answered softly and moved to join her behind the curtain. Her sky blue corset had looked pretty enough lying on the bed, but now, wrapped around Stella's middle, the color of it complimented everything about her. Her hair, her eyes and most certainly her body. Malachi moved slowly, taking the cords from the top as Stella held the garment in place, lifting and pressing her perfect breasts together. He tightened them slowly, moving through each eyelet as he did and marveling as the corset drew her already amazing figure into one that no man could help but admire. finally reaching the last set of eyelets he cinched the cords tight and tied them off. Then, unconsciously his hands came to rest on Stella's hips and he pulled her back into his chest, breathing in the scent of her hair, before wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her tightly. I'm going to look like a carpetbagger alongside you Miss Blakeston. He whispered lightly in her ear. Mal rarely used Stella's last name- there never seemed to be a need. He held her for a moment longer before breaking the embrace. I...I suppose I need to get myself as gussied up as I can manage. He stepped back and left her there behind the curtain as he found his saddlebags and his Sunday Best suit, a black ditto suit with grey pinstripes, a clean white shirt and collar and a four in hand tie. He couldn't actually remember the last time he'd worn it and judging how dirty and scuffed his only pair of boots were, he was sure he'd make a poor escort for his beauty. While Stella was still behind the curtain, he turned his back to it and quickly dropped his underwear, briefly revealing his well muscled thighs and calves and more before he slipped on a fresh pair and reached for his pants. I don't think I've had anything to eat since breakfast. He offered, This is a really nice place they've made for themselves...The Perrin's have. Don't you think?