A/N: This was my entry for the Fic This Gif contest (gif #18), hosted by the lovely and talented Jadalulu (it has been edited some since the original posting). It did not place or win any of the special categories, but I was excited to learn that it was one of the judges' faves! Thanks, Chicklette!

Thank you so much to my amazing pre-readers and betas: twilly, Nuttyginger, and HollettLA! I truly appreciate all the help and hand-holding with this! Mwah!

Readers of A Little Magic: Please note that this one-shot was finished and submitted in May, so it has not affected the writing/updating of ALM. Please see my profile for a message about ALM. Thanks!

Enjoy :)

fet·ish - Something, such as a material object or a nonsexual part of the body, that arouses sexual desire and may become necessary for sexual gratification.

My name is Edward Cullen, and I have a fetish.

I can still remember the first encounter from all those years ago. I was eleven, and my Aunt Elizabeth sent me into her attic to retrieve some board games on a rainy Saturday afternoon. In my peripheral vision, I noticed something white in the corner behind some boxes, and as I'd always a curious boy, I had to investigate. I shoved the boxes out of the way and lifted the large sheet off of the tall figure. As the sheet billowed down, I stared in awe at what had been revealed. I didn't know what it was called at the time, but I remember being fascinated by it.

The corset, which appeared to be rather old, hugged the dress-form—the hue a pale peach, almost the color of skin. I'm still able to recall how the smooth, textured satin felt as I ran my hands over the structured curves, the stiff boning in vertical lines—solid to the touch, the criss-cross pattern of the lacing going down the back.

After my discovery, I always volunteered to be the one to help retrieve things from the attic, just so I could get a peek at this beautiful thing for which I had no name. I found out years later that the corset once belonged to my great-grandmother, whose possessions had been stored in my aunt's dark attic, untouched for decades.

Through the years, my fascination with corsets has only grown. Early on, it wasn't a sexual thing for me, or at least my prepubescent brain wasn't interpreting it that way. As I got older, though, the innocent fascination gave way to wet dreams and then to real women, and corsets began to infiltrate all of my sexual fantasies. I will never get enough of the way they hug and accentuate a woman's curves—the way her breasts spill out of the top, or in some instances, are completely exposed.

I've kept my fetish a secret for the most part. After all, I have a wholesome professional image to uphold as a third-grade teacher. The only other person who knows about it is my ex-girlfriend, Kate. I met her at the first school I worked at here in Seattle, where she was a kindergarten teacher. Before that, I hadn't really had a serious relationship. I was somewhat of a player in my high school and college years.

Kate was a great girl but a little too timid to deal with the corsets. My fixation finally got to be too much for her, and she broke it off.

I never understood why she didn't like wearing them. There were times when I didn't ask her to, but secretly, I always wanted her to be wearing one when we were intimate. I loved being able to run my hands over her body, feeling every bend and curve the corset made while she rode me. Maybe I just pulled her strings too tightly. I always insisted on being the one to tighten and tie them in the back. It's possible she was just too shy to say anything.

I pack up my messenger bag after another long day of dealing with eight- and nine-year-olds and head to my car in the faculty parking lot. As I'm pulling out, I get a call from my dad.

This can't be good.

He doesn't call very often. It's usually Mom, but she's been extremely ill and isn't responding to the chemo as well as she had been previously.

"Hi, Dad," I greet warily.

"Hi, son. How are things?"

"Fine. Is Mom okay?" I cut to the chase because he's not one for small talk anyway.

He lets out a heavy exhale, and I already know the answer.

"Well, it's not looking good. The doctors found another tumor, and the cancer is just spreading too quickly. They're not sure how much time she has left. They say maybe six months at the most," he finishes with a resigned sigh.

My eyes begin to water, so I pull over to the side of the road. She's only fifty-eight years old, for God's sake. It just isn't fair.

"So, what happens now?" I ask, my voice cracking.

"She's elected to stop treatment. It makes her so tired and sick, and she just wants to enjoy the rest of her life as much as she possibly can."

"So... what? You're just going to let her give up? Just like that?" The desperation in my voice is clear.

"Edward, your mother and I have discussed this at length. She has made her decision, and we will support her in it. Period."

It's my turn for a heavy sigh. I rub my hand over my face, trying to come to grips with what this means—that I will lose my mother, and I will lose her much too soon.

"All right," I reply after gathering my thoughts for a moment. "I'm going to head down tomorrow night and stay the weekend."

"Okay, son. See you then."

Forks isn't terribly far away, but I only make it down there once or twice a month. That's not going to be enough now.

When I get to my apartment, I throw my keys and bag on the dining room table and grab a beer from the fridge. I take a swig and roll my head from side to side, trying to relieve some of the tension that quickly became overwhelming with the news from my dad.

It doesn't work.

I know what I need, but it's not her night. She's only online on Friday and Saturday nights, and of course it's Thursday.

So close.

I'll just have to settle for someone else.

Sitting down at my computer desk, I bring up the Pull My Strings website and sign in. I came across this site when I was in college, and it's helped me relieve tension on numerous occasions.

The site is specifically designed to cater to those like me—those with a corset fetish.

Evidently, there are a lot of us.

There are about twenty girls who work the site. Anyone can log in, pay their fee, and view them while they're on their webcams. I've watched a few of them, but I have a favorite.

And it's not her night.

It's been perfect with her only being on two nights a week since that's all I can really afford anyway. Tonight, though, I really need something to take my mind off of everything that's going on.

I click on the live webcast link, and it's pixiedust22 who's online. This girl is tiny. She's cute but not my type. She also talks way too much.

My girl doesn't talk. She just moves, and she mesmerizes me every time.

She's so lithe and graceful, with curves in all the right places—curves that make me want to reach through my computer screen and squeeze the supple flesh at her hips, her ass, her breasts. Everywhere.

I'm brought out of my thoughts by pixiedust's childlike voice. "All right, boys. Time for a wardrobe change."

She was wearing a light purple corset with lace on the bra cups, but when she comes back, the hideous neon green thing hugging her miniscule curves does nothing for me.

It's immediately clear that I won't be getting turned on by that thing, or her for that matter, so I just shake my head and log out.

I've stuck with Friday and Saturday nights for so long now; I wonder if any of the other girls would satisfy me at this point.

I resort to pulling up some screen shots I've taken of my girl instead. It'll have to do for tonight. I take care of business quickly and close my laptop with a heavy sigh. It's just not the same, looking at the still images of her and not being able to see her move.

After a sad dinner of leftover Chinese food and a long shower, I fall into bed, the stress of today weighing heavily on me.

When I wake in the morning, I know what I have to do. I sit down with my laptop, type up the letter I need, email it to my school account, and then get ready to leave for work.

I'm in my third year of teaching at Bryant Elementary, and I absolutely love it. It's one of the top-ranked public schools in Seattle. Principal Banner will not be happy with my decision to leave, but family comes first. I have to be there for my parents the way they've been there for me my entire life.

"Thanks a lot for helping me out with this," I tell Emmett as we bring in the last piece of furniture to my new apartment in Forks.

"No problem, dude."

"You want a beer?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

I chuckle and toss him one, and we plop down on the couch.

"Glad to have you back in town, man," he says after tipping his beer back a couple times.

"Yeah, it's been a while."

"You need help unpacking anything before I head out?"

"Nah, I'm cool. Thanks for everything. Oh, and tell Rose thanks for the food for me."

"Will do. Call me this weekend, and we'll go out for a drink."

"All right, Em. See ya."

The first thing I do after I close the door behind Emmett is find the box with my laptop. My internet isn't hooked up yet, but I'm sure I can find a wireless network to use from someone in the building.

It's Saturday night, and I've been too busy lately to enjoy my favorite pastime… with my favorite girl.

I hurry to get logged in and click on the link for thecorsetgoddess's webcast. My whole body buzzes with excitement as I anticipate seeing her. It's been too long.

The screen loads and… holy fuck. There she is in a black and red patent-leather corset. Black leather straps come down from over her shoulders and across her chest, leaving her perfect breasts completely exposed to the air.

My cock springs to life instantly.

I realize I don't have my usual setup available, so I reluctantly put my laptop down for a moment and dig through boxes for a towel and some lotion. Removing my t-shirt, track pants, and boxer briefs as I walk back to the couch, I squirt some lotion into my palm and sit down.

I've been rock hard since she appeared on my screen. It's bordering on painful now, so I form a fist and bring it down over the head of my dick, pushing into it as I watch her play with her taut nipples.

She looks incredible as always. Long, thick mahogany hair spills down her back and shoulders. Her lips are blood red, full and pouty. A small black mask covers the area from her brows to the bridge of her nose as always. Deep, dark eyes are trained right on the camera, which makes me feel like she's watching me the same way I'm watching her.

She turns around for a second, breaking the eye contact in order to situate herself on the bed that's set up in view of the webcam. Her cute little ass is peeking out from underneath the corset, just enough to tantalize me more. I groan at the sight, fisting my erection even harder.

She's exquisite.

Her body moves gracefully until she's reclined against a mound of pillows at the head of the bed. I watch with rapt attention as she brings one finger into her mouth, sucking on it for a moment and sliding it in and out. As I watch the movement, my mind replaces her finger with my cock. I imagine how it would feel to have her hot mouth surrounding me, and I grunt as I continue to stroke myself. Her lips form a kiss as she releases her finger and runs it down between her breasts, where a metal ring joins the leather straps on her pale skin. It continues on a path down to her bare pussy, where she adds another finger to begin circling her clit while the other hand continues to play with her nipples, pinching one and then the other.

Speeding my hand, I slam down to the base of my cock before dragging back up and rubbing my palm over the head and then coming back down again.

After playing with her clit for a few minutes, she turns over slowly and gets onto her hands and knees, exposing it all to the camera... to me.

Holy hell.

This view is always my favorite. Those strings or ribbons, lacing down a woman's back, ending at her pert ass, is the absolute hottest fucking thing I could ever imagine.

My eyes wander from the back of the corset as I watch her hand grab a blue dildo from beside her on the bed. Her head and shoulders drop to the pillows so she has use of her arms. Reaching down, she begins to work the dildo into her pussy. As it slides in, I imagine it's my cock sliding into her from behind. I imagine myself running my hands over the smooth leather covering her back as I pump into her, and a loud moan escapes my throat.

We work in tandem, the dildo fucking her and me fucking my hand, wanting it to be her. I know next to nothing about her, but she is my ideal.

Every little huff and gasp I hear from her takes me closer to the edge, and when she climaxes and cries out, I explode into my hand, spilling over it.

Her screen name is right. She is a goddess.

I'm still panting as I clean myself up. She's collapsed onto her stomach on the bed, and I'm unable to tear my eyes from that line where the corset meets her ass. After catching her breath, she rolls over and gets up off the bed, and I know this session is over. My goddess walks right up to the camera as usual. Her eyes are hooded, and she wears a lazy smile.

I could look at that face forever.

She gives a little wave before turning off the webcam, and I dumbly wave back, still in a stupor.

I know my girl will be back in an hour, but I should really get to work unpacking. I have an early meeting with the principal of Forks Elementary on Monday morning, and I want to be completely unpacked and set up in my apartment by then.

My father told me about the job opening at the school, and it was such perfect timing I couldn't pass it up. I spoke with Principal Swan on the phone, and the conversation went well. There've been no other applicants, so the job is mine. I start a week from Monday, teaching first graders this time around.

Sunday evening, I head over to my parents' house for dinner. We used to have dinner together gathered around the large walnut dining table, but now, with Mom confined to her bed, we bring TV trays into her room and eat there.

It's still just as nice—being together, talking and laughing. We try not to make Mom laugh too much, though because she's just so weak. It seems like even something as simple as laughter consumes too much of her energy.

Dad and I clean up after dinner, and I go back up to their room to talk with Mom some more. I want to spend as much time with her as I can.

My mom has always been firm but fair. I'm her only child, and she didn't want me to be the stereotypical spoiled brat. Her philosophy was that whether or not you have siblings, if you're raised right, you'll act right.

She had three miscarriages before I was born, and I know she wanted more children. But she calls me her one and only—her miracle baby. My mom is the strongest woman I know.

When I reach my parents' bedroom again and peek inside, she's sound asleep. Everything she does these days leaves her exhausted.

I walk in and watch her for a moment. Her breaths are even but a little shallow, like her body is working hard to produce them.

It probably is.

Most of her hair has fallen out, so she wears a scarf on her head. Tiny wisps of caramel strands peek out here and there, mostly on her forehead. Walking to the side of the bed she's on and sinking to my knees, I brush the hair from her forehead and just look at my mother's beautiful face. It's much thinner than it was even a few months ago. She's lost a lot of weight as the disease and treatments have affected her body, but it's most noticeable in her face. She has laugh lines around her eyes and mouth, which she's never tried to get rid of with Botox or anything like that. According to her, they're a sign of a life filled with joy, and I have to agree.

Bowing my head, I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment as the despair takes over.

I hate that I can't do anything to help her, to keep her alive for many more years to come. I hate this disease, how it ravages the body and robs people of their life, stealing their joy.

A hot tear slides down my cheek as I place a soft kiss on her forehead and whisper, "I love you, Mom," and leave her to rest.

I find Dad still in the kitchen, wiping down the countertops. He's had to take on a lot more responsibilities around the house lately.

"She's already asleep," I tell him.

"Ah." He finishes up, and we head into the living room to chat a bit before I leave.

"Ready for your meeting in the morning?" Dad asks.

"Yeah, I think so. For some reason, I feel nervous. I don't know why. It's not like I'm new at this, but I can't seem to shake it."

"You'll be just fine. Bella's a lovely woman."


"I guess you know her as Principal Swan. You know, Chief Swan's daughter?"

"Oh, I knew that name sounded familiar." Chuckling, I shake my head. "Wow, I've been away too long, I guess."

"Yes, well, it's not like you two ran in the same circles when you were younger. Bella would've been a freshman when you were a senior, right?"

I nod.

"Then, of course, you left for college and grad school and your job in Seattle."

"Well, I just hope she knows what she's doing. The principal in the first school I worked at in Seattle was a complete idiot," I say, rolling my eyes.

"From what we hear, she's doing a wonderful job there."

"Well, good." I stand up. "I guess I better get going. I'm meeting her bright and early."

"Have a good night, son."

I give him a hug and squeeze him just a little tighter than I usually do so he knows I'm here for him. "You too, Dad."

I walk through the double doors of Forks Elementary with my messenger bag slung across my chest, coffees in hand, at exactly 7:18 AM. I'm meeting Principal Swan at 7:30, but I'm always early.

The school is somewhat small but well-maintained. It has a homey feel to it, with forest green carpeting in the hallways and dark wood trim and doors. Looking around, I already have a feeling I'll enjoy teaching here.

The principal's administrative assistant, Mrs. Cope, bats her eyelashes at me and shows me to Ms. Swan's office, where I take a seat in one of the chairs across from her desk. I place both cups of coffee on her desk and pull out my notepad and a pen.

Ms. Swan said she just wanted to meet with me to go over a few things before I start next week. She already has my Washington Board of Education records and my letter of recommendation from Principal Banner.

The little hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I feel someone enter the room behind me. I turn my head to the side a little and glance at her out of the corner of my eye.

Sweet mother of...

She's not what I was expecting. At all. I knew she was young, but I wasn't prepared to be faced with someone so stunning.

Bella walks elegantly in her high heels. Her dark hair is swept up off her shoulders in a twist, and she has on a black skirt that flares a little at the knee with a white button-down shirt tucked in at her slender waist.

I stand to shake her hand and notice she has on very little makeup, which I find refreshing. Her skin is flawless. Black-framed glasses sit on the bridge of her nose, and behind them are dark brown eyes.

Those eyes.

They look familiar, but I don't know why. Maybe I saw her around our high school back in the day, but I don't recall.

"Mr. Cullen, it's nice to meet you. Please have a seat," she says as she takes her seat behind her desk.

"Pleasure to meet you too, Principal Swan. Please call me Edward."

She smiles at me, and I feel it in my entire body. "Okay, Edward. You may call me Bella, but please address me as Ms. Swan or Principal Swan in front of the students."

When she said my name, my mouth went dry, so I swallow and clear my throat a couple of times. I still can't find my voice, so I nod at her, and she smiles again.


"Great. Now, before I begin, do you have any questions for me?"


I knew she was going to ask me that. I had several questions ready, but in her presence, they seem to have escaped from my brain like wisps of smoke.

Why didn't I write them down?

I glance down at the blank notepad on my lap and stare at it for a moment, hoping my questions will suddenly appear there. Obviously, that doesn't work, so I just shake my head.

Great, she's going to fire me before I even start for my complete lack of verbal communication skills.

"Edward, are you all right?"

I adjust my titanium-framed glasses and clear my throat. "Yes, I'm fine. I just seem to be drawing a blank on my questions right now. If I think of any, I'll ask them after... I mean, once you're finished with me... I mean—"

She cuts me off. "It's okay. I knew what you meant."


Her expression has remained warm, but so far, this is not going well. I need to get a handle on whatever this woman is doing to me.

Bella goes over everything from pay to benefits and continues with what she expects from me. I take thorough notes, only looking up at her as often as I have to in order to not seem rude.

"So what brought you back to Forks, Edward?" she asks after she's finished with all the details of the job.

"Oh, uh..."

"I don't mean to pry. It's just that we don't often get young, successful teachers coming from Seattle to tiny little Forks," she says with a breathtaking smile.

I clear my throat again. "It's actually because of my mother. She's very ill and not doing well."

Bella cocks her head in that way people do when they hear something sad, and her eyes turn mournful. "I'm so sorry to hear that. I knew Mrs. Cullen was ill, but I hadn't heard much other than that."

"Thank you. I just felt the need to be closer to my parents during this difficult time. And of course I want to stick around for my dad after..." I trail off as emotions clog my throat. I can't bring myself to say it.

"Of course."

She's just staring at me with a soft smile on her face. Her gaze moves from my face to my throat as I clear it and swallow again.


Bella blinks and shakes her head lightly before standing. "Do you have time to take a tour of the school?" she asks.

Only if you're my tour guide.

I chastise myself internally for the thought as soon as it manifests. I should want to take a tour of the school, no matter who gives it to me. But all I want is to be in her presence for as long as possible.

"Yes. I'd love a tour of the school. Thank you."

As we leave the area containing the offices, Ms. Swan informs Mrs. Cope that she'll be taking me on a tour and that we should return shortly.

"Oh, I thought you wanted me to—"

"No. Thank you, Shelley, but I'll go ahead and take him. I know you have quite a lot of work to catch up on since you were out all last week," Bella says.

Mrs. Cope looks confused for a moment, but then she nods and gives me a smile. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Cullen. We'll see you next week."


Bella leads me through the halls, pointing out certain rooms, and I do my best to focus on what she's showing me and not the swaying of her hips as she walks.

Thank God I didn't put my notepad back in my bag because it's now covering up a very big problem. I feel like I'm in seventh grade all over again, having to carry a binder in front of my pants to hide my boner.

Fucking pathetic.

I haven't been this turned on by a woman who wasn't wearing a corset in a very long time. Maybe ever.

Our time together ends with smiles and a handshake that lasts a little longer than is socially acceptable.

Next Monday can't come soon enough.


Oh, this is bad. This is so very bad.

I can't be attracted to a teacher. I can't. I can't. I can't.

But I am. Very much so.

Of course, I already knew who Edward Cullen was. I'd seen him in high school when I was a lowly freshman and he was a senior. He had girls falling all over themselves for him all the time. He was always a beautiful boy, but he's even more gorgeous now that he's all grown up, with his messy copper hair, emerald green eyes, and a jawline that looks like it belongs on a Greek god.

And all I wanted to do in that office was wrap my body around him and never let go.

Our little school district doesn't have a strict no-fraternization policy, but I have to assume it would be frowned upon for a principal to date one of her school's teachers, much less attack him in her office.

The existence of such a policy, or lack thereof, is of no consequence to me, though, because I don't date.

After what happened with Peter two years ago, I swore off dating altogether.

Peter was wonderful—handsome and sweet, funny and romantic. Everything a girl could want in a man. But about a year into our relationship, he discovered my secret.

I'm an exhibitionist.

I don't have a compulsion for having sex in public places or anything like that, although that would be fun. I've just always enjoyed being watched while pleasuring myself. It started with my first boyfriend, Garrett. I was shy about it at first, but he finally got me to open up and explore my body while he looked on. I got such a high from it, and I knew right then that I would never get enough of it.

I've found my niche in the corset fetish community, and I love being able to shed the buttoned-up principal image and become this vixen for the camera. I love knowing that hundreds of men, and probably some women, are watching me. The more, the merrier, as they say.

And the extra money's not so bad either.

Peter spat vitriol when he found out, telling me that no self-respecting man in his right mind would be okay with what I'm doing.

I don't know if he's right about that. It's not like I'm a prostitute, but I've been too afraid to date anyone since then. I need my escape from reality, and I don't think I could give it up for any man.

Changing my webcasts to Friday and Saturday nights was just one way to avoid being tempted to date again. That way, my weekends aren't free, and I don't have to lie about that.

Having this gorgeous man waltz into my life isn't fair. If my instincts are right, Edward was attracted to me as well. He looked very conservative, though, in his khakis and button-down shirt with those sexy glasses. Of course, I, of all people, know looks can be deceiving. But he teaches little kids, for crying out loud. For my own sanity, I have to assume he wouldn't be okay with my secret.

The rest of the week passes by in a blur of disciplining errant children, doing admin work, and holding parent conferences.

Before I know it, it's Friday night, and I need to get ready to start my webcast. I start by picking my wardrobe for the evening. I usually do at least one corset change during my hour break. As I go through my collection, I spot one of my favorites: a satin number in deep aubergine. Perfect.

I also pick out a pale pink one and then sit at my vanity. I apply a thick line of black eyeliner on my top lids, then slick on a plum lip gloss that will look gorgeous with both corsets. The shine on my lips will show up well on camera also.

After my makeup is done, I let my hair down and fluff it up a little, then smooth it with my hands until it lays the way I want it. The last thing I do is put on my small black mask that obscures my identity. It would obviously be very bad for me professionally if anyone I know found out about my activities.

Since I live by myself, I have a difficult time with some of the corsets. Sometimes, I have to put them on backward and tie them in the front and then suck in my breath and turn them around. Some have other closures on the side or down the front that can be used after the laces have been pulled as tightly as I desire. I'm used to it, though. I've come to love them so much that I wear one every day instead of just a regular bra. I don't make them overly tight for my workdays, but I love the feel of them hugging my body throughout the day—the feeling of power against the restriction they give, the way it makes me feel to be wearing something so sexy that no one around me knows about.

I get into the purple corset and walk into my guest room, where I have everything set up. Just before the clock strikes 7 PM, I log into the site and power up the webcam.

Thecorsetgoddess is on the clock.



I love the purple one. She wears it often, so it must be one of her favorites.

I think it's my favorite, too. The color is gorgeous next to her creamy skin. It's accented with black lace, and she's gone pantyless again tonight.

Lord, help me.

Tonight, I stick with her for both of her sessions. The light pink corset with matching panties in the second session just about does me in.

Saturday night is more of the same. Part of me wonders if I'm trying to work out the tension over my not-so-subtle attraction to my new boss. Even with an entire weekend free of Bella, I'm still plagued by the nervousness of seeing her again on Monday.

I can't be this attracted to my principal. I can't. I can't. I can't.

There's got to be some rule or contract clause that says a teacher can't date his school's principal.

I'll have to find out, because if there's not...

Bella would look incredible in a corset. I just know it.

Monday morning, I get to the school early. We don't begin class until 8:45, so getting here at 7:00 gives me plenty of time to get set up. I'm taking over for another teacher who went on maternity leave and is not planning to return to work, so the room is pretty much set up already. I just want to add a few things here and there on the bulletin boards.

My first week goes well. My kids are great, and it's actually a nice change from third graders. I wasn't sure at first, but I think I might like the younger kids even better. They're so engaged and imaginative. Most of my third graders only talked about video games and television shows all the time.

I see Bella here and there, and we chat and smile at each other as we pass in the hallways. I sense she might be attracted to me too, but she's so guarded at work it's hard to tell.

I actually did some research and found out that our district does not have a policy against faculty members dating, so that's one hurdle out of the way.

The next hurdle is me. I'm going to have to work up the nerve to ask her out. I normally don't get very nervous about asking someone on a date, but Bella intimidates the hell out of me.

The following Wednesday, I've decided today's the day. I'm going to go to her office after my class is out for the day and just do it.

As I walk down the hall to Bella's office, I can see that her door is open, and I know part of me was hoping she'd be gone already. That way, whatever winged creatures have taken up residence in my gut could get the fuck out, and I would have another day to get my shit together.

She's typing away at her computer as I approach, so I knock lightly on the open door to get her attention.

Bella doesn't look away from her screen. She just waves me in. "Have a seat. I'll be with you in a moment."

I make myself comfortable in a chair and watch her fingers fly across the keyboard. Given that her attention is fully focused on her screen, I take a moment to study her. Fly-away hairs are rebelling and escaping from the ever-present twist and curling around her face. She has the cutest, most intense look of concentration on her face, her sexy lips moving minutely as she reads what she's typed.

"Bad day?" I ask.

Her eyes dart to where I'm sitting. "Edward? Oh God, I didn't even realize that was you. I'm sorry. Yes, it's been a hell of a day. Pardon my language."

I chuckle, and her cheeks become a little bit pinker than they already were in her frazzled state.

"You really think a little bad language would offend me? I'm friends with Emmett, remember?"

"Ah, yes. I forgot. I guess you've heard it all, then."

"And then some," I add with another laugh.

Emmett was a year behind me in high school, but we've been friends ever since I originally moved to Forks back in seventh grade. He started dating Rosalie his senior year, so I didn't officially meet her until later. She and Bella were in the same grade and have been best friends for many years. Somehow, Bella's and my paths never crossed until I came back to teach here.

"Just let me finish this email to the superintendent, and I'll be all yours," Bella says distractedly as she resumes her typing.

All mine.

If only.

When Bella's finished typing, she turns in my direction and smiles. "I'm sorry about that, Edward. What can I do for you? Are your classes going okay? Any trouble?"

She still has her principal hat on.

"Everything is just fine, thank you."

"Good. And how is your mother doing, if you don't mind my asking?"

We've talked about my mother's failing health a few times since I started here. Bella sometimes hangs out in the teachers' lounge and has coffee and socializes with us. The teachers all adore her, so no one gets upset about being invaded by the boss. I'm sure it would be lonely for her to just sit in her office all day.

"She's—" I let out a heavy breath. "She's hanging in there. She's in a lot of pain, so she's on a constant morphine drip. Dad's cut his hours at the hospital some, but he has nurses come in when he or I can't be there. I honestly think he would work more if he could, just to escape the situation. I know it's very hard on him to see her wasting away like that." As I finish speaking, I realize I've been speaking to my hands in my lap. When I look up, I see tears welling up in Bella's eyes.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I should've just ended with 'she's hanging in there.'"

"No. It's okay. It's just so awful. Esme's so sweet. I've only met her a few times when she's volunteered for school functions, but I just can't imagine her like that. I'm sorry," she ends with a sniffle and searches for a tissue in her desk drawer.

I think of my mother's love for volunteer work, and it makes me proud. She always gave back to our community.

"So was there something I could help you with?" Bella asks after she's composed herself.

"Oh, uh..."

Should I really ask her out right after I just made her cry?

"I was actually going to see if you'd like to have dinner with me Friday night. Maybe around 7?"

Guess so.

She looks stunned.

"Oh. Um, I'm really flattered Edward, but I don't date. I'm sorry," she says without making eye contact with me.

"Well, it doesn't have to be a date. We can just go as friends if you'd like."

I'm grasping at straws here. I just want some time with Bella to get to know her better.

"I'm sorry. Friday nights don't work for me," she replies with a small shake of her head.

"Saturday, then?"

God, I sound desperate.

I am desperate—desperate to know this beautiful woman, inside and out.

"Saturday's no good either. I'm sorry, Edward. You seem like a great guy, and I'd love to be your friend. But I think if we went out on a non-date, it might turn into a date-date, and as I said, I don't date."

"You don't date colleagues, or you don't date, period?"

"I don't date, period."

My brows furrow in confusion. What on Earth would make a gorgeous woman like her completely swear off dating?

I need to find out.

"Well... okay. I'll just be going now. You have a great evening, Ms. Swan." I stand up to leave, and as I reach the doorway, her hand lands on my upper arm. She squeezes my bicep lightly, and I look down at her gorgeous face. The heat of her hand seeps through my sleeve and into my skin, burning me.

"Edward, I really am sorry," she says, her soulful eyes trained on mine.

I break the connection by squeezing my eyes shut, and I mutter, "It's fine. See you tomorrow." I walk out without looking back and feel the warmth of her touch all the way home.


Why couldn't I just say yes?

You know why.

I sigh and finish getting the salad ready. I have dinner every Wednesday and Sunday night with my dad. He doesn't get around so well anymore since he was shot in the line of duty a few years ago. That was part of the reason I moved back to Forks after college—to make sure he had someone around to help him out.

We have a quiet meal as usual. He's never been much of a conversationalist, and I'm not a fan of idle chatter either. So he asks me about my day, and I ask him about his, and that's about all the conversation we need.

Even after I walk into my little house, I still have Edward on my mind. When I wrapped my hand around his well-toned arm, I could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt. All I wanted was to keep touching him, but I understood why he felt the need to flee so quickly.

I wanted to say yes. So badly.

But all I heard was Peter's voice in the back of my mind...

You're sick, Bella... That's disgusting... whoring yourself out for money... I don't want you anymore.

To say those words hurt would be an understatement. They cut through me and left me raw and bleeding. I had thought we were at a point in our relationship where I could trust him enough to reveal everything about myself. I thought maybe he would find it arousing that so many men would want to watch me like that.

I was dead wrong.

Friday and Saturday night, I let loose and become the vixen that hides inside me most of the time. I leave the world of regret over Edward behind and remind myself of why I need this in my life. The rush I get from it never fades.

Sunday is spent reflecting on what I should do about Edward. He's so incredibly handsome, and he seems very sweet. I guess it wouldn't hurt to have one little dinner with him. I hope.

I should be able to determine whether or not he's closed-minded and save myself a lot of heartache. Afterward, when I realize there really is no man on Earth who could embrace that side of my life, we can just be friends, and everything will be fine.

Everything will be fine.

If I keep telling myself that, it'll come true.

I don't see Edward at all on Monday, mainly because I end up stuck in my office dealing with the school board and an upset parent all day. When I do make it to the lounge to heat up a quick lunch, he's nowhere to be found. I walk by his classroom a couple of times when I have a free moment, but he's always busy teaching.

That is what you're paying him for.

Oh, shut up.

By Wednesday, I'm positive Edward's avoiding me, and why wouldn't he be? I rejected him. I'm sure it took a lot of balls to ask out his boss, and I completely shot him down.

It's been another hectic day. I call my dad and let him know I'm staying a little late, so he'll have to order pizza but that I'll be there as soon as I can. As I walk down the hall, I see a door to one of the classrooms still open and the light still on. My heart begins to beat a little faster when I realize it's Edward's room.

I'm not sure what to do. Do I just walk past it like nothing's going on? Or do I stop and talk to him?

I really want to talk to him.

As I begin to cross the threshold into his room, I tap lightly on the door, and his head snaps up.

"You're here late," I say as if it's not obvious.

"Uh, yeah. So are you."

Wow, this is awkward.

"Yeah, so I'm glad I caught you. I wanted to talk to you about something."

Edward sighs and takes off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. "Look, I already know what you're going to say. I'm sorry for asking you out last week. You're my boss, and it's inappropriate. I get that. I just—" He sighs again. "I just couldn't help myself."

He levels me with those piercing green eyes, and I'm caught in his stare for a moment, completely mesmerized by the way he seems to see right into my soul. I realize I've probably been staring a moment too long because he breaks the eye contact before I do, clearing his throat.

"That is what you were going to say, right?"

"What? Oh, no. I actually wanted to tell you that I've reconsidered. I'd like to go on a non-date with you," I finish with a smile, but he looks confused.

I'm bound to be giving the man whiplash with my waffling.

"Really? Because Rosalie told me why you swore off dating, and I get it. I don't want you to feel guilty or pressured."

My heart goes into overdrive, and the chill of fear invades my body at the mention of Rosalie. She's the only one who knows my secret besides Peter. She's supposed to be my best friend. Why the fuck would she think it's okay to tell Edward?

I try to get my breathing under control and ask, "What exactly did Rose tell you?"

He frowns slightly. "She just said that you had your heart broken, and that you have things going on in your life that make it difficult for you to date." His eyes turn apologetic as he adds, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked her about it, but I couldn't wrap my mind around why such a young, vibrant woman would swear off dating."

My body relaxes as I realize she didn't out me. I shouldn't have doubted her. Rose has always been fiercely loyal.

"It's all right. I understand your curiosity. And while those things are true, I'd still like to give it a shot. That is, if you'd still like to go out."

Edward shoots up out of his chair, steps in front of me, and takes one of my hands in his. "Of course I still want to, Bella. I just didn't want to pressure you. You seemed very adamant about your no-dating policy when I initially asked."

His thumb is rubbing small circles on the back of my hand, sending warmth all over my body, spreading from that spot.

"So, Friday night, then?" he asks.

I shake my head. "No. Friday and Saturday nights really are no good for me. I wasn't making that up. How about tomorrow night?"

His smile lights up his face. "Tomorrow night sounds great."

I smooth my dress down as I look in the mirror at myself. My favorite purple corset comforts me as it hugs my torso under the dress.

I'm nervous. It's been over three years since I've had a first date. Even though this is supposed to be a non-date, I still have the date-date jitters. I'm also wearing a short black dress that screams date-date, so I'm not sure I'm fooling anyone.

Edward picks me up at seven o'clock on the dot.

He's a complete gentleman, complimenting my dress, opening the car door for me. When he slides into the driver's seat, his scent overwhelms me in the best possible way. It's crisp and clean, and it makes me want to climb into his lap and just run my nose up and down his neck.

I squirm in my seat a bit.

"You okay? Comfortable?"

"Oh. Yeah, I'm great. Thanks."

Edward jokes about not wanting to take me to Subway, even though it's the nicest restaurant in Forks, and we head up to Port Angeles instead.

The little bistro Edward picked is great. The food, the atmosphere... the company. Amazing. He's so intelligent and funny. No one has made me laugh like this. Ever.

By the end of dinner, I know I want this to be a date-date, but I'm still afraid. I'm afraid that as soon as Edward discovers my secret, he'll bolt. Just like Peter.

Edward's been nothing but respectful and gentlemanly all evening, which I appreciate. I'm just having a hard time gauging whether or not he'd be okay with what I do on the weekends.

My guess is no.

As we're walking up the stone path to my front door, I feel something tickling the back of my leg. I reach down to scratch because it's driving me crazy, but before I can, I feel a large hand close over mine.

"Is that what I think it is?" Edward's voice startles me. Not because I wasn't expecting it but because of its tone. It sounds strained.

"It's, um..."

I know what it is. My corset somehow came untied in the back during the car ride and one of the strings is dangling down past my hem. How embarrassing.

I barely hear it, but my whole body tenses up as Edward whispers from behind me, "Corset goddess."


There's no fucking way this is really happening right now. No fucking way is this woman the same woman I've watched online for years.

When I saw that little bit of string hanging out of her dress, it all clicked into place. The familiar eyes, even the way she moves sometimes seems familiar, her not being available on Friday and Saturday nights, something going on in her life that would make her afraid to date.

The chances of this happening have got to be one in a billion, but I just know she's my corset goddess. She's wearing her hair down tonight. It's the first time I've seen it not twisted up on the back of her head. She also left the glasses behind, so I can really see those gorgeous dark eyes—the same eyes I've been captivated by via webcast for so long.

Her whispered screen name escapes from my mouth without my permission as the puzzle pieces come together in my mind, and she goes rigid. That's how I know for sure that I'm right.

"How do you know that name?" she seethes. "Did Rosalie tell you?"

"What? No."

Bella crosses her arms over her chest and levels me with a glare. "Okay, then. Talk."

"Can we at least go inside?"

"Fine." She turns on her heel and walks up to her front door. My eyes are glued to the thin black string swaying and bouncing off the back of her leg the entire way.

She unlocks the front door and barges through it. The door bangs off the entryway wall and almost hits me in the face as I step over the threshold to follow Bella to her living room.

"Sit," she commands. I obey and take a seat on the couch, watching her pace in front of it. She's mumbling a bit to herself and all I catch is, "bad... his boss... principal... shit."

"Bella, please. I'm not going to say anything. I swear."

Her head snaps up and she glares at me again. "You're damn right you're not! Now, explain. How the hell did you find out?"

"I'm—" I pause and sigh, running a hand through my hair. "I'm one of your regulars," I admit, my cheeks heating up.

Bella's eyebrows shoot up her forehead. I guess she wasn't expecting that answer.

Her eyes soften a bit. "Wow... um... I'm not even sure what to say to that."

"You probably think I'm a total creep," I say dejectedly. She's bound to fire me now.

"No," she says with a shake of her head. She steps forward slowly and sits beside me on the couch. "I don't think you're a creep at all." After a pause, she continues. "I like that you watch me. Is that sick?"

"No. I like that you like that I watch you," I respond with a chuckle. Bella lets out a surprised laugh, and just like that, the tension is broken. The sexual tension, however, is still thick in the air.

Her hand is resting next to my leg on the couch. There's nothing I want more right now than to touch her, but I'm not sure how she'll respond. I start by placing my hand on top of hers. My large hand almost completely engulfs her smaller one, and I run my thumb across the tops of her fingers.

Bella's chest starts to rise and fall more quickly, and before I even register her movement, she's straddling my lap with her hands tangled in my hair. She stares into my eyes for a moment, looking for something. Her dark eyes draw me in, and I can't look away. Apparently, she finds whatever she was seeking, because her lips crash down onto mine. I open my mouth to her when she silently asks permission, and our tongues engage in a sultry dance.

Bella grinds her hips against my growing erection, and I let out a deep groan. Quickly running out of oxygen, I break the kiss and drag my lips up and down the column of her throat. Our panting breaths are the only noise in the room.

I reach up to pull down the zipper of her dress, but she pulls away from me.

"Please," I whisper. "I need to see you."

Bella climbs off my lap, and a wave of disappointment washes over me. I've offended her. I drop my head into my hands and wait for the tongue lashing I'm surely going to receive from her now. But then I hear the distinct sound of a zipper being lowered, and my head snaps up.

She's standing in front of me, slowly unzipping and peeling her dress off.

Good God.

I lick my lips as the corset she's wearing is slowly revealed to me.

This cannot be happening.

I have got to be dreaming. My goddess can't possibly be right here, about to be standing in front of me in a motherfucking corset.

No. Way.

As her dress falls to the floor, my mouth goes dry. My favorite corset, the purple one, adorns her body. My eyes take their time roaming her perfect curves, starting at her breasts. Two pillowy mounds sit atop the fabric encasing them. I follow the curve of her breasts to where her waist is cinched by the boning and lacing, then to the swoop of her hips where the corset ends, giving way to long, shapely legs in black thigh-high stockings.

Bella gives me my moment to gawk at her, of which I take full advantage. And then, without a word, she turns and walks into the hallway, disappearing from my sight.

After watching her perfect ass sashay out of the room, I sit there for a moment, not quite sure what to do. I know what I want to do. But what does Bella want me to do?

"You coming, lover boy?" her voice echoes down the hallway.

My ass is off that couch a split second later.

I finally find her in what appears to be the master bedroom at the end of the hall. She's sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for me.

Bella beckons me closer by crooking her finger, and I don't hesitate. I drop to my knees once I'm in front of her.

My goddess deserves to be worshiped.

I lean my head down and kiss the inside of her thigh, and she parts her legs a little bit more to give me room. Her hand dips into her panties as my fingers wrap around the top of one of her thigh-high stockings and pull it down while dusting her leg with kisses as I go. Once I've removed the other one as well, I lift up and kiss her lips, pushing her down onto the bed with my body.

"Bella," I murmur against her lips.

I hover over her, taking in her wild mahogany hair, her flushed cheeks, her hooded eyes. I begin to run my hands up and down the satin of her corset. My cock is straining against the zipper of my pants, trying to get to her. My hips press into hers, and I thrust forward almost involuntarily. Bella whimpers at the contact.

Black lace edges the top of the corset, and I run my fingertip across it, just skimming the swell of her breasts. Her chest is heaving, and the stiffness of the corset presses into her breasts each time she inhales.

"Beautiful," I whisper.

Bella reaches up and wraps her hand around the back of my neck, pulling me down to her and kissing me fiercely. Her legs wrap tightly around my waist, and I thrust against her again, both of us moaning at the sensation.

I can't stop sliding my hands up and down the corset boning running down her sides, and Bella can't seem to stop running her hands through my hair. Beginning at her neck, I start nipping and biting a path down, down, down. I bite at the corset too, and I can tell by the hitch in her breath and arch in her back that the sensation of my teeth pressing the satin against her skin is driving her wild.

Bella's legs fall back down to dangle off the bed as I move, and she arches into me again. When I reach her tiny black panties, I kiss her just at the top edge of them where a small sliver of skin is exposed beneath the corset. Sliding the panties down her legs, I take a moment to look at her.

The thought enters my mind of how many men out there would kill to be in the position I'm in right now with this woman—how many men have watched her the same way I've watched her. And even though it should probably turn me off completely, it has the opposite effect, and the heat in my groin only increases, my cock hard as steel now.

Bella's still lying back on the bed, but she's propped herself up on her elbows to see what I'm doing.

I'm staring. That's what I'm doing.

Snapping out of it, I move forward again to place light kisses on the insides of her thighs. Snaking my tongue out, I run a hot path up the inside of her right thigh until I reach her pussy. As I lift her long legs over my shoulders, she collapses back down to the bed, and her hands attach themselves to my hair again.

"Oh, God," she whispers shakily as I run my tongue in a line from her entrance to her clit, circling it a few times before making the circuit again... and again... and again. As her body starts to tremble, I begin fucking her entrance with my tongue, and her thighs clamp down on my head and release a few times.

She's losing control.

Bella's pushing my head down and writhing against me, and I know she's close. I focus back on her clit and suck on it lightly until she comes undone and cries out, just like I've heard her do so many times before. Only this time, it's just for me.

Between panting breaths, I hear her say, "You'd better be naked and on this bed with me in the next five seconds."

I've never stripped so fast in my entire life.

Bella scoots up to the pillows, and I lie down next to her. She pushes her fingers into my hair right at my forehead and runs her hand around and down to my neck, pulling me in for a lingering kiss. She must not mind tasting herself on my lips.

This woman is perfection.

Pulling back, she looks into my eyes. "That was amazing, Edward. You are amazing."

"You're beautiful," I say, running a fingertip from her temple down to her chin.

She smiles, and a blush creeps from her cheeks down her neck and chest, disappearing somewhere beneath the line of black lace.

Our lips come together again, and I wrap one arm around her neck and the other around her waist and press my body to hers.

Bella breaks the kiss after a moment. "Edward, I just want you to know that I don't normally do this."


"Obviously, you know I don't normally date, but even if I did, I wouldn't bring just any guy home like this. I wouldn't have sex on the first date. And I definitely wouldn't have sex with one of the teachers at my school." She pauses, looking away for a moment and then back into my eyes before she continues. "But there's something different about you, Edward. I was drawn to you the moment I met you. I can't even explain it."

I move forward and kiss her sweet lips. "You don't have to. I know exactly what you mean. Even before tonight—before I put everything together—I couldn't fight the pull I felt toward you. You're simply irresistible," I finish with a small shrug.

Bella laughs. "Did you just quote a Robert Palmer song to me?"

"Maybe," I reply with a chuckle. "But it doesn't make it untrue. And just so you know, I don't normally do this either. I actually haven't been with anyone in quite a while."

She smiles and hitches her leg over my waist, and I let out a strangled moan as my cock makes contact with her wet pussy.

"I'm assuming you want me to leave the corset on?" Bella asks with a raised brow.

"Fuck yes, I do."

I roll her onto her back and grind against her.

"Okay," she says breathlessly. "But you might have to help me with it before we go much further. It's been loosening since it came undone in the car."

Oh, God.

She's going to let me tighten and retie it?

Fuck. Me.

I lift myself off of her, and she gets up onto her knees facing the headboard. I glide my hands up her sides to her arms and guide her hands to brace against the wall above it.

Bella's hair cascades down her back, so I gather it and move it to one shoulder so I can see what I'm doing. I start toward the top of the corset, pulling the criss-crossing strings one by one all the way down her back, careful not to pull so tight as to restrict her breathing. She lets out little moans as I go, and I make sure I tie the strings together extra tight down at her ass. This fucker is not coming loose on my watch.

It's automatic for my hands to slide up and down her body again, just feeling her gorgeous curves in the corset. I still can't believe I have my own personal goddess here with me, in the flesh.

My erection makes contact with her ass a few times, and she starts to push back against me.

"Like this? Are you sure?"

"Yes," she replies breathily.

"Fuck," I grit out.

I don't know what I did to get this lucky, but I feel like I just won the motherfucking lottery.

Her pert little ass is still pushing against my cock, so I take myself in hand and line up with her slick entrance.

"Oh, shit. Condom?"

"Pill," she pants. "Please, I need you inside me."

There's no way I could deny her, so I sheath myself in her with one quick thrust, and we both cry out. It's not even something we could contain. In that moment, it's clear that our bodies were meant to fit together like this.

Bella keeps her hands flat against the wall as I begin to thrust into her. Kissing and nipping at her shoulder and neck, I run my hands all over the satin hugging her torso, occasionally dipping down to circle her clit.

The sounds coming out of her—huffs, gasps, and moans—are so familiar to me, but I can't get enough of them. I want to listen to them forever... just like this, in person.

No longer able to hold back, I eventually begin to pound into her as she pushes back against me, silently begging for more. One of my hands stays clamped on her hip while I move the other to the laces on her corset. I get my fingers around some right in the middle of her back, pulling them even tighter as I move.

"Oh, fuck!" Bella's cries of pleasure echo off the walls of the room, and a grunt of exertion escapes my throat as the muscles in my arm strain against the tightness of the laces. I keep up the tension and fuck her harder, almost faltering as her tight pussy flutters around my cock.

Bella's breathing becomes a little too shallow after a few minutes, so I release my hold on the strings and wrap my arm low around her waist, anchoring her to me as I continue to pump into her. The hand I had on her hip glides up her side before I yank down the cup at the top of the corset and pinch her nipple.

Bella lets out a scream, and one of her hands slaps the wall, that sweet pussy clamping down on me as her orgasm overtakes her. My name falls from her lips on a raspy breath, and the feel of her squeezing my cock triggers my own release. Without even thinking about it, I bite into her shoulder as I slam my hips against her ass and come deep inside her.

Bella's head drops forward as her body sags, and I tighten my hold around her waist to keep her upright until I've enjoyed every little aftershock she gives me.

My legs are a bit shaky now, so I let us both collapse onto our sides together, and I kiss her neck and the red spot on her shoulder, still holding her in my arms.

I don't ever want to let her go.

About a year later...

"Oh, God," I groan as I run a fingertip over the swell of her breasts, which are spilling out of the top of a pure white corset. "This one's my favorite."

Bella giggles. "You say that about all of them."

"Do I?"

She nods. "Mmhmm."

"Oh, well, I really mean it this time."

She smiles and pulls me in for a kiss. "I might need some help tightening it, though, Mr. Cullen," she mumbles against my lips.

"Trust me. That won't be a problem," I say before adding, "Mrs. Cullen."

Bella giggles again. She must have had too much champagne at the reception.

We had a simple wedding. Bella's dad was able to walk her down the aisle, albeit slowly and with a cane, but she was so happy to have him by her side.

She made the most beautiful bride I'd ever seen.

My dad looked on from the front row proudly. It was tough not to have my mother there. I know she would've loved to see her baby boy finally get married. But I also know she was with us in spirit.

She passed away about five months after I moved back to Forks. We were all, of course, devastated. Bella had come to the house several times after we officially started dating, and Mom got to know her a little bit better. My mother adored Bella, and the feeling was mutual. I just wish she could've lived longer and been able to enjoy having a daughter-in-law. But she was in so much pain all the time, and I'm at peace knowing her suffering has ended.

As I look into my gorgeous wife's eyes, I think for the millionth time how amazing it is that I found her. My goddess.

She's continued her webcasts, although she decided to go down to one night a week, now on Tuesdays. Bella said that because, unbeknownst to her, we spent most Friday and Saturday nights together for a long time, now they should belong to me and only me. I don't complain.

I think it's great that she's found a safe way to fulfill her exhibitionist tendencies, and I would never ask her to give it up. It's great for me too, because now I get to watch the live show. Bella has me sit right behind the webcam so that she can look at me the whole time but still look like she's making eye contact with the camera. It's perfect.

I thread my fingers into Bella's hair, tilting her head back, and kiss her, pouring all of my love for her into it. When our lips part, her eyes remain closed for a few moments, and a wide smile spreads across her face.

"Thank you for loving me," she whispers.


Her eyes open with a familiar playful gleam in them. "Now, get to pulling my strings, mister," she says with a smirk.

"Yes, ma'am."

~The End~