Nailing Neely Jordan Ch. 04

24/06/10 23:12 GMT

Carlotta, let me explain.

Fucking roommate Jasmin was not part of the plan. Obviously. It just happened, spontaneously, explosively, as these things do with girls who don't have Neely's kind of scruples. And are inebriate.

I went around there spur-of-the-moment. I'd dealt superbly well, false modesty be fucked, with the aftermath of the birthday eating-out. I made all the right noises in my communications with Neely -- concern just shy of penitence, barely controlled desire, I even expressed a willingness to try church again. It all seemed to be having a beautiful effect, in fact I'm damned sure it was, and in the name of letting the whole thing unfold organically I called on her unexpectedly. Single red rose, "just calling because I was thinking about you," style of manoeuvre. It would have knocked her sideways, had she been in. And I would have saved it for another occasion had Jasmin not.

It was all perfectly innocent to begin with. The little slip of a thing invited me in, said Neely would be back soon from a church meeting. Or something. But she'd keep me company while I waited. Problem was, she had downed a substantial quantity of vodka and orange in preparation for going out clubbing, so I found her in a giddy and flirtatious state along with a crop-top and tiny skirt. Admittedly I drew out the flirtation (as much as I could without seeming like a complete dog). We were sitting in the kitchen having a drink and it was all "She's so lucky to have you, Ray, well, kind of have you...", with just a glimmer of a knowing smirk. To which I contributed that I was sure she wasn't short of male attention when she went out nights, whereupon she informed me that she kept getting stuck with boys, when what she needed was a real grown-up man. One who knew what a girl wanted. Then she got back to how lucky Neely was to have a guy who was so attentive to her needs. I asserted that I tried to be good to Neely and Jasmin expressed sympathy regarding whether or not my needs were being met.

Okay, there was an air of simmering danger and I'm sure we both knew it -- Jasmin was reading me rather better at that point than her housemate ever could - but it was all made fine by the knowledge that Neely was due to show up at any moment. And then came the text to Jasmin's phone. Neely had gone for coffee with some people from church and wouldn't be back so early and could Jasmin turn down the heat on the crock-pot. Or something. I just looked at her and there was one of those significant brooding moments. I mean this girl knew I wasn't getting any from her friend and all the vibrations said she was pretty much in need of it herself. It was clear all her flirtation had only been semi-serious, but I knew instinctively if I went for it she was unlikely to refuse. Anyway, in that moment the risk just seemed worth taking.

Okay, be pissed at me, but it's been fucking frustrating, Lotta, and... well Neely is wildly sexy, but this girl -- it you'd seen her... Glossy jet-black hair, bendy little dancer's body, she's part-Thai, Filipino, not sure -- at any rate she's got that Far East I'm-so-sweet-come-fuck-me thing going and God, all I could think of was how good my cock would feel inside her tight little cooch. I know, I know, I should have thrown a fuck some other direction, but the moment just possessed me.

So I seized it and her. Grabbed her, kissed her hard. Pushed her up against the table and let her know how vastly swollen my cock was for her. A split-second's resistance -- not even resistance, vague moral reluctance -- on her part, then she just grabbed back, hand clutching my ass, her skirt riding up so that her cunt was grinding against me. No pleasantries required, what a beautiful thing. Top ripped down, skirt ripped up to meet it, then plop her cute little ass onto the kitchen table and off with her panties in a single wrenching movement. Tear open flies, and cock just as ready as her sweet wet cunt-hole. Grab her legs, bend her over like a pretzel on that hard wood surface and ram my unrelieved dick as far inside her as it would go. A month of self-restraint -- well fuck all that, the dating and the wooing and the caring nice-guy schtick, fuck it all if only for a few brief minutes. Let me just saw my reinforced cock all the way in and out of that clutching, wet girl-tunnel. Grip her thighs, press them down against her stomach and nail her on the kitchen table. Jesus. So FUCKING good.

"Oh God, we shouldn't be doing this," the traitor was moaning.

"Yeah, but we damn well are," I pointed out through a grit-teethed snarl. "And you're fucking loving it, aren't you?"

"Ohhh shit, I am..." she agreed in a piteous hard-fucked ecstasy.

"Well let me hear you ask for more," I instructed her mid-thrust.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fucking give it to me..."

So I did, hard to the balls. More than that, I tore the clothes clean off her along with my own, flipped her around, put her on all fours there on the table, a lissom slippery caramel streak with her pussy-lips puffed and raw from the shafting she'd already received, that cute devious little face peering around to see when she was going to get some more. Already frigging herself into a frenzy and far beyond the workings of whatever negligible conscience she has. She couldn't help it any more than I could. All these weeks angling to get inside Neely and there I was as though trying to sabotage the whole thing, banging her hot nasty little friend amongst the condiments. God, the sleek curve of her back as I gripped her shoulder and rammed it into her...unforgettable. This shit is what I do best. I just flung my cock back inside Neely's wailing, ready-to-pop little bitch-pal -- "Oh God, you're so big, you're so fucking big, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come..." -- and pounded the shit out of that hot treat till I blew a ball-draining wad inside her. Couldn't do anything else -- I don't have Neely's God to restrain me. Do you know, all the time I was fucking her, sweet as it was, I was thinking how much 'bigger' I'd feel to a certain untested virgin pussy, and of the noises that virgin would make as she was done for the first time? I still don't want to miss that opportunity, I assure you.

Anyway, it seems Jasmin and I both 'came' to our senses. She did look wildly hot crumpled on the table with my thick white ooze slithering out of her well-fucked cunt, groaning "Ohhh God, what have we done?" Truth be told it did all have a sense of wrongness-too-far, even for me. Like a sorry guilty mess to be cleared up. Which we did, pretty damn quickly once the orgasmic fever had died.

She was red-faced from more than sexual excitement afterwards. "We've done a bad thing here, Ray, a really bad thing."

I played along with the penitence. It wasn't difficult, the whole situation didn't feel like my finest hour somehow. "I'm sorry," I was telling her, "it just kind of happened..."

However she wasn't entirely buying my routine. "Yeah? Well it probably happens a lot, doesn't it, Ray? Only I shouldn't have been a fucking part of it..." Then next she was virtually pushing me out of the door before I had a chance to get my shoes back on. "Just go," she was telling me, all teary, "get out of here, let me clean up, take your fucking rose, she can't know you were here... I've got to go and shower, I've got your smell all over me..."

I honestly don't think she'll say a thing, Lotta, she was way too mortified and desperate to cover our traces. I asked her on the way out and she said, "No, she mustn't know about this, not ever," her voice shaking. Oh yes, and then, "But you should break it off with her Ray, you should do it soon, you're not who she thinks you are." Little hypocrite.

So I think it's all okay. I got my rocks off and Neely should be none-the-wiser. I mean, do we really have a problem here?

Ray

24/06/10 16:46 PST

Don't 'Lotta' me, you son-of-a-bitch. Are you out of your fucking mind? God, what am I thinking? Whenever your dick takes over, that's a super-loud 'yes'. And don't try and cover over your fuck-up with your tired story-telling routine. God it was so hot, I couldn't help myself...Check how my normally perfect syntax has gone to shit, I'm so charged with animal energy... I ought to slap you, you idiot asshole! You're supposed to be a wolf hunting down select prey, not a goddamn hyena scavenging somebody else's sexual leftovers. Besides, we'd already discussed the issue -- if you needed to drain your balls, you should have found someone safe. You want the Jasmin girl, at least wait till after you've fucked the Christian! Do we have a problem? he asks. Do we have a fucking problem? All this work and thought, all our planning, and you have the gall to ask me that...

Yes, Ray, I damn well think we have!

Just suppose that this little skank acts on the scary conscience she was displaying before you left. What if she decides she has to divulge your true colors to her roommate? Decides she can't bear the thought of her virginal friend being preyed on by this opportunist bastard? Okay, so maybe she's too guilty to admit she actually fucked you, so instead she just says you showed up and came on to her. Don't you think she's liable to do that next time Jesus' little soldier is singing the praises of her lovely respectful new boyfriend?

Haven't you thought this through at all??? Even if she says nothing right away -- and you mightn't even get that much grace -- you're on borrowed time, buster. You'd better seriously up your game or you'll most definitely blow whatever limited chance you have left to nail the Jordan girl. And if you don't nail her, well -- all those delicious things I've got lined up for your cock will NEVER HAPPEN.

Right now you're a serious disappointment. So fuck off and get some serious moves worked out. You can report back when you've got something worth telling. Oh, and Ray, I'll damn well know if you lie to me.

* * * *

"Morning, Lord. Ehhh -- thanks for today. Weather's a bit dodgy, but -- well -- that makes us appreciate the nice days more, right? Thanks for... how well things are going at the church. For all the recruits we have on the homeless project and how well the outreach programme is going. All the new kids who've started to attend. And for the general upbeat mood around the place. Thanks for Jonas and all his support, especially on the forthcoming workshops. Nice to have an ally, you know, somebody who thinks the same way as me. And has an even worse sense of humour. Aaaand -- yes, thanks for Pastor Simmons. I know his heart's in the right place. In his chest cavity slightly to the left. No, I'm kidding, I love him, you know that. He's got everyone's best interests at heart and he loves you. So that's all good.

"Thanks for the Lemongrass caf in all its deliciousness, especially for the new white chocolate-chip cheesecake, which rocks the entire joint. For Leo and Jasmin, my lovely decadent friends. Thank you for Ray..." Neely faltered momentarily in her regular morning God-chat. "Yes, thank you for Ray. That he wants to attend the church again. And for how he's so nice and... and respectful to me..." Even when his tongue's inside my pussy.

Now there was the trouble with believing you could talk to an omniscient higher power. You couldn't edit out your sneakier thoughts. There was no internal monologue to be kept from one's Maker. Neely tried again. "Thanks that even though there's been a certain degree of..." rampant carnality "...misbehaviour between us, things are still under control." Girl, you've been thinking about him licking you out for three whole nights! "Okay, well kind of under control. We're behaving ourselves again. And it'll be easier if he shows greater interest in things at Alton Bridge. I mean how great would it be if he came to faith?" It would be wonderful, but Neely get real... You just shouldn't be dating him. You know it, God knows it... "Anyway, thanks for the whole show. I know I'm very lucky. And here's praying for strength to do good service today. To be a good witness for Christ and..." not to think about doing rude naked things with Raymond Archer "...and that too. Amen."

Neely finished lacing up her trainers. She checked the mirror and ran a brush through her luxuriant locks a few more times. Then she picked up her purse and her phone, in preparation to set out for work at the café. She paused to flip through the texts Ray had sent her the past few days, since the night he had made her birthday so memorable. There were two which stood out, two which kind of summed up the conflict in her mind. The one from two days ago, the very day after his tongue had gone a-flickering... WOULD IT SHOCK YOU IF I SAID I WANTED TO TRY CHURCH AGAIN? There certainly had been a shock element, a pleasant one which had made her heart race. Did he mean it? But then when did Ray say anything he didn't mean? He had never tried to fool her with false professions of interest in embracing her faith. So his words here must mean something. She'd told him they'd talk about it next time they went out, i.e. tonight. Let him express what was on his mind more fully. Maybe Ray the sceptic wasn't as impervious to Christian faith as his reactions had always suggested. Maybe respect for her Christian profession was gradually morphing into something more meaningful - interest in the claims and teaching of Jesus Christ for their own sake. Was it too fanciful to think that? Didn't Neely have any real faith in the potency of her own beliefs to draw in someone else? Or was it just wishful thinking to justify the physical effect Ray had on her anytime he came close? Any time she thought of him?

Because there was the other text, wasn't there? The one which had come apropos of nothing later the same day: YOU DRIVE ME CRAZY, BEAUTIFUL GIRL.

Wow, she did drive him crazy it seemed. That wasn't arrogance. She could hear it in his breathiness every time he wished her goodnight. She could sense it in his body's tension when he kissed her, in the way he gazed at her, as though with passion he could barely suppress. Lord, she could hardly miss it bulging unrelieved in the crotch of his jeans when they'd been making out, it had been fit to burst free three nights back when he'd finished making exquisite oral love to her pussy. (A little aching moan escaped from her restricted throat as she recalled, one more flashback added to hundreds, and each one a mini-burst of illicit delight.) He'd made her so excited, but there was a secret dark thrill that she excited him right back. That he wanted her, got huge and hard for her, that she was withholding something that despite all his professions of respect, he wanted. Badly.

For a moment the thought made her feel sexy and powerful, then guilt rushed in to drown that sense. Not just guilt at her sinful desires, guilt at playing with Ray in this way. Getting him all pumped up (oh heavens what a phrase) and then leaving him unsatisfied. Being a tease, however involuntarily. For Ray didn't share her faith, not yet at any rate. He didn't understand her reasons, however hard he tried, for abstaining from sexual pleasure. He had nothing internal to help him make sense of it. How cruel it seemed to treat him this way. She wished she could do something for him, wished she could make it better without... without sacrificing herself. Of course maybe she could...

Neely's eyes strayed to the little bottles of scented oil, sniffed-at but unused on her dresser. She picked up the little card she had found within the packaging the morning after she had first opened the case and read it once more: Enjoy. If not in company, at least alone. Was her good boy teasing her a little? Inviting her? If so, surely he would have made her unwrap the present on her birthday evening. No, he'd just wanted to give her a sexy romantic gift for her birthday, show that he considered her a proper woman, not some shy repressed little girl. How she wished she could reward him... reward him using his own gift to her. But no, no -- she so shouldn't go there.

She grabbed for her Bible before going out -- flipped through the New Testament for something to sustain her. Arrived at the opening to Jesus' 'Sermon on the Mount', one of the passages most instrumental in her first embracing the Christian faith. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven. Then all those other blessed individuals -- the meek, the merciful, the peacemakers, the pure in heart...

Neely was pure in heart, wasn't she? Full of good motives and intentions. Trying to be helpful, doing the right thing by everyone, making the lives of people around her just a little bit better. Pure in mind, that was the problem. She was very far from that these days. Pure in heart not good enough, Lord? She feared it wasn't. There was that bit later on in the Sermon about the sin of looking with desire on someone to whom you weren't married. Although maybe that only applied if you were already married to someone else? No, it was no use going that direction, testing the elasticity of the Scriptures. The whole of the Bible underscored a within-marriage-only approach to human sexuality. And anything which threatened to undermine that was just playing loose with the rules.

Which meant she shouldn't be setting the Good Book aside and replacing it with the Bad one -- the one which had joined the Bible as a daily reading staple and had been stored guiltily for two days now under her bed. "I know you're taking crafty reads at it," Jasmin had told her, "so you might as well just keep it till you're done." So Odyssey of Lust was lurking where she could reach for it with such ease, morning or evening. She didn't even have any time to spare before work, so why was she opening it and leafing to the page she had marked the previous night?

Just a few paragraphs...

Sapphire the globe-trotting slut, she recalled, had arrived in Bavaria, pursuing her apparent destiny to take inside herself cock of every possible nationality. The details returned from Neely's hazy tired-out reading the previous night. The oft-fucked heroine had been preparing to room above the tavern in an Alpine village when she had fallen into conversation with a handsome duke and his glamorous partner, drinking spiced Franconia wine, before being persuaded to accompany them to their forest-enclosed mountain castle for the evening. Feeling under-dressed in their presence, Sapphire had been encouraged by Katrin, her beautiful hostess, to bathe and change into the sheer white dress supplied her. It was only towards the end of her meal at the couple's huge dining-table, surrounded by leering family portraits and stags' heads, that Sapphire realised the occasion had an ulterior purpose...

"Excuse me," said Sapphire with hesitation, not wishing to appear rude. "There don't appear to be any spoons for the dessert." The huge slice of delicious Kirschtorte sat before her, making her mouth water.

"Ve vill not be using spoons," her debonair host explained, rising from his seat and strolling towards her with nonchalance. "In fact, my beautiful dear, ve vill not be using any plates eezer." Here we go, thought Neely, but anticipation trumped all sense of irony.

Sapphire looked confused. (No change there.) "Then how will we...?" she began.

"Ve vill observe a custom established by myself in zis castle some years ago," the Duke explained, removing his jacket. "You see each summer I select a lovely young voman like yourself, someone who is travelling through zis part of our vunderful Bavaria on a journey of self-discovery. I select very carefully with ze help of my loyal housekeeper here."