Once they were committed, so to speak, things moved very quickly. The clasp on her corset was wrenched off onto the floor and once that was gone, it was much easier for Zelda to become undressed - and, then, easier for them to move from the floor to Mr. Darrow's bed. When he slipped inside her Zelda gasped out - it hurt and she hadn't expected it to - but with assurances that it was normal her alarm evaporated. The longer they were in motion the better it felt, as the ache inside her turned into something pleasurable and she was gasping for entirely different reasons. It was all punctuated with random thought; his hair is in his eyes turned to he's still a little clumsy turned to it's different now, what's happening?

What was different was, apparently, the end of it. Mr. Darrow slipped off of her and Zelda curled towards him. Sweat was rapidly cooling on what seemed like the entire surface of her body, and her chest heaved. No one had ever told her that sex involved so much physical effort. She draped her arm across his chest and stared upwards, at the ceiling. She should say something. She should say something. She didn't know what to say. She was tracing circles on his chest with one finger instead.

It took her a few minutes to muster up, "I guess I should maybe go home."

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