Nailing Neely Jordan Ch. 04byJaymal©
"Your housekeeper?" Sapphire stared in confusion at the blonde-haired Katrin. "But I thought you were married!"
"No, Katrin is not my vife." The Duke threw the jacket casually onto one of the high-baked oaken chairs, flipped aside his suspenders and began to undo his shirt, revealing a powerful dark-haired chest. "I am indebted to her for running zis ancient castle vis supreme efficiency and in helping me pursue my... indulgences." He licked his lips in a way that made Sapphire shudder with fear and excitement. Did seducers literally lick their lips? wondered Neely. No matter. "She also shares in many of my preferences and plays a part in all of my games."
"Games?" Sapphire realised with a shock that Katrin was removing her dress and stripping down to blue-silk lingerie that enhanced her well-preserved and robust figure.
"Yes, games," said the Duke, now stripped to the waist, "and Katrin always helps me choose ze perfect girl vis whom to play. In zis case, you." Sapphire gulped and looked around wondering if she could run. But where would she run to? "And do you know vy you are perfect, Sapphire?"
"No," she replied with a quavering voice, as both the Duke and Katrin closed in on her where she sat.
"Because I know you seek out carnal pleasure vereffer you go. You ver seeking it tonight."
"No, you're wrong," insisted Sapphire. "I'm just on vacation, I wanted to see the mountains and the castles."
"Your mind may not know you are seeking it," said the Duke, "but your body craves it. I knew zis as soon as ve spoke. I haff a sense for your heat." Sapphire felt Katrin's slim smooth hands on her shoulders, as the woman unclasped the back of her halter-dress. The Duke tore the dress down suddenly, making her gasp at having so much skin exposed. "Tell me, Sapphire, as you travel ze vurld, do you not find yourself surrounded by strong attractive men who want to enjoy ze delights of your flesh? Tell me, Sapphire."
"Y-Yes, I suppose I do," she stammered, as Katrin undid her brassiere at the back.
"And do you try to avoid zees men's advances, or do you find yourself giffing up your body to zer depraved lusts? Tell me!" His hands lingered on the lacy cups of her bra.
"I give myself up to them!" she said breathily, her heart racing and her pussy moist.
"Und vy do you do zat, Sapphire?" he demanded. "Tell me vy!"
"Because... Because I love to!" she moaned, fearful of her own confession. "Because I enjoy it!" Neely heard herself gasp aloud. She was more affected by silly Sapphire's confession than she wanted to be.
"Of course you do!" the Duke cried in victory, as he ripped the brassiere away from Sapphire's quivering breasts. "Vell here, my darlink, you vill have all your desires satisfied. I vill keep you here till you haff serviced all my needs and zos of my guests. And in acting as slave to our lusts, my beautiful Sapphire, you vill discover the true depths of your own sexual depravity!" He groped her full breasts, his face full of delirious glee. "Know vat you are! Do not deny it any longer! A creature of lust and vild sexual passion. Submit yourself to your cravings. Katrin, it is time for dessert!"
As Sapphire gasped, Duke Ralph scooped the Kirschtorte from her plate with his hand and smashed the entire mess of chocolate cake, butter-filling, cherries and whipped cream all over her naked tits. He smoothed the mixture thickly all around, smearing her globes with ruined dessert. Then he and Katrin both leaped on her and ate ravenously, licking cake, cream and sticky cherry-sauce from her bosoms, slavering their tongues all around her and sucking hard on her erect nipples till she squealed in fear and ecstasy. Katrin continued to feast off her boobs, while the Duke seized her dress and tore it from her body, ripping her panties away from her loins as well. As Sapphire lay helpless in her dining-chair, he parted her legs and smeared some of the remaining cake debris all over her wet cunt.
"Don't vorry," he told Sapphire. "I vill make sure you do not miss out on dessert. You can guess from ver you vill lick it. But first I must enjoy mine." With that, he pulled her thighs further apart, shoved his face between them and thrust his tongue deep inside her sticky, dripping...
No more! Neely slapped the book shut, flush-faced, memory flooding her conscious mind even as her pussy did the same to her freshly-worn knickers. Gosh, Ray hadn't even required liqueur-soaked cream-cake to sweeten the experience. Till now she had felt a safe distance from the gorgeous Sapphire, whose sexual encounters were as risible as they were hot. But the idea that the daft heroine was carried into each misadventure by an undercurrent of desire rather than simple stupidity sat uncomfortably with her. Neely did not want to share too much with the jet-setting bimbo. She did not want to acknowledge a similar primal force at work within them both. The one which kept her reading every night, fusing Sapphire's encounters ever more with thoughts of Ray, his muscular strength and his tongue. Which had made her accompany the reading and the thinking these past three nights with the vibrator's buzz on her clitoris. Which had woken her the night just gone in a fevered sweat, mumbling -- she had caught herself doing it -- "Make love to me Ray, I want it, I want it, I want you to f -- f - ... to f - ..."
No... "NO!" Neely shook the thought, hid the book and changed her knickers. Head together, girl. You're being tested, that's all. You'll get a handle on all this. Okay, you're already cutting work fine. On with the day. Do stuff. Keep busy...
She wondered why Jasmin had not knocked already on her door But of her friend there was neither sight nor sound. Had she gone ahead? Neely tapped on her roommate's door and peered inside. "Jaz? You not up yet?" She received an inarticulate groan from under a duvet in response. "You okay, sweetie?"
Jasmin peered mournfully above the covers. Her eyes looked heavy, her face grim. "Neely, I'm not going in. I feel dreadful. I've already phoned Annabel to explain, she's got someone else to cover. If anyone asks, I've got flu..."
"Is that Russian flu?" Neely arched an amused eyebrow. "Vladivar-induced?"
"Something like that," moaned a feeble voice.
"But you didn't even go out last night," said Neely, curious. "Did the girls come around here? Did I miss the party?"
"No, no, you didn't miss anything. Really. No one here. Just me."
"Drinking alone, you warned me about that once," said Neely. "Hang on, let me get you something..." She ran to the kitchen and fetched a glass of water and some Paracetemol tablets, setting them on her friend's bedside table. "There you go, babe. Sleep it off and I'll see you later."
Jasmin resurfaced and stared balefully at Neely. "Thanks," she croaked in misery. "You're a good friend, Neely. Way too good."
Neely kissed her on the forehead and gave her arm a squeeze. "I'll remind you of that next time I need a shift covered. Get rested."
"Neely, I... I..." Neely looked closer and thought she recognised something in Jasmin, some sadness, that couldn't simply be put down to alcoholic excess.
"What is it, Jaz? Tell me what's wrong."
"It's... I..." It was like the girl's soul, not her body, was struggling to purge itself of something pent-up.
"Yes? It's okay, you can tell me." Neely's concern grew and her hand lingered on her friend's arm.
"It's... It's... nothing," said Jasmin, as though defeated in her attempt. "Just my stupid life, is all. Go on, get to work. Don't be late. I'll be fine."
What's got into her? pondered Neely, having finally torn herself away from the invalid. But she forgot Jasmin's personality-glitch as her own clouds of moral confusion returned, hovering close above her all the way to the cafe. She threw herself into work, chattering to customers almost crazily to distract herself from a swarm of thoughts which buzzed like her new toy. She was just thankful Leo didn't ask about the birthday gift. Her other job, her real job was haunting her as well, chiefly the planned lunchtime meet with Jonas. What a frame of mind with which to be finalizing Sunday week's opening workshop in the 'sexual ethics' series. How could she approach the conversation with any sense of integrity?
By the time she arrived at The Ship, Jonas' favourite pub by the habour, she had turned it all around in her mind. This wasn't a gauntlet to be run, it was a God-sent opportunity -- to reinforce her values, to gain strength in solidarity with her partner-in-the-faith.
"Neelers! Club sandwich and a pint of Carlsberg. Your shout." She smiled broadly on seeing his familiar rather laddish grin and gel-spiked dark hair. Her comrade-in-spiritual-arms, irreverent attitude to all formality masking the reverence he held for his beliefs. She loved that. And she loved him, like the brother she'd always wanted. "You ready to whip these little reprobates into shape?" he asked cheekily.
"Sure am," she said, hugging him. "And buy your own damn sandwich."
They had one of their cheerfully productive working-lunches, pinging ideas back and forth, seeking out relevant Scripture passages and quotations from their favourite spiritual thinkers, then splicing them in their heads with relevant visuals they could use -- music videos, film clips and advertisements. Scribbling down key points and discussion frameworks, working through all that they wanted covered by the end of each session.
"It's much better to have broadened it like this," said Neely, feeling good about the whole thing. "Looking at relationships as a whole, not just the sex part. Focus on all the things we can be developing and exploring, rather than the... the... the ones we shouldn't be doing. Aren't doing." She hoped Jonas hadn't noticed the derailing of her thoughts by a recollection of Ray's thrashing tongue. It appeared he hadn't.
"Yeah, totally agree. Look, I'll put all the materials together tonight," assured Jonas the tech-wizard, "in the IT suite." Neely laughed at the reference -- the former junk cupboard at the church, which her colleague had converted into his own computer-room-cum-editing-suite. "I'll have the stuff for the first session really spot-on before the evening's through."
"Lonely evening for you," said Neely.
"No, Leona's going to come along and help me out."
"Wow," Neely grinned. "You really know how to romance a girl. She's going to sit and watch in wonder at your tech skills. Maybe I should come rescue the poor thing."
"She loves that stuff," Jonas protested, shooting mock-daggers at her. "Better at it than I am. It's a whole section of her media course."
"Oh, right. I wondered what you two had in common." Neely was so used to Jonas ribbing her, she preferred to get her jibes in first. "Cradle-snatcher..."
"Heyyyy!" He dipped his fingers and flicked her own water at her so she flinched. "I expect that from some of the other guys - that's why we keep it low-key - but not from you. Leona's a very mature nineteen-year-old."
"Very pretty nineteen-year-old..."
"That too. Anyway, you're the one dating the heathen hack."
"Alright, alright, touché..." Neely glared at him, but her smile quickly broke through. "Looks like we're both conducting relationships on the QT."
"Hey, Neels, don't sweat it," he reassured. "You'll have him converted to the faith in another month."
"Maybe," she said quietly, doubt flickering in her mind once more. "We'll see..."
How Neely envied Jonas what he had with Leona. What was a few years' age-difference when you had basic Christian compatibility? She envied Jasmin and Leo too, come to that, pursuing love- and sex-lives free of faith-imposed constraints, with people of similar mind. Everyone seemed on the same page with their lovers, whether the book was the Bible or the Kama Sutra. But what of those poor souls trying to reconcile conviction with desire, while their partner did not share those convictions? She would have to try to address her dilemma that night with Ray.
She carried the thought away with her from her lunchtime meet, spent all afternoon steeling her resolve, trying to think of her relationship with Ray in terms similar to those she'd discussed with Jonas. Trying to fit it back into that box. By early evening she'd almost convinced herself that she'd done it and just needed to convey the fact to her boyfriend. Her good work was all but undone when she met Ray outside Bristol's Old Vic Theatre that evening. He reverted to his respectful pre-birthday self, greeting her with a brief chaste kiss on the lips, but it was enough to make her burn with memory.
"Missed you," he told her, and it was mutual. She'd missed his broad presence close to her and the reined-in passion of his touch. And the deft work of his tongue, holy heavens had she missed that. Walking in with him, flirting in the bar over a pre-show drink, nestling next to him in the stalls -- it all made her yearn for more of what she'd had, along with everything she'd not.
They relaxed into an involving production of David Auburn's play Proof, a clever, moving tale of madness, mathematics and love. It was unexpectedly, disconcertingly erotic as well, in the scene where the maths prodigy offered up her cherry to her father's PhD student; she appeared in the follow-up scene bath-robed and glowing, as though satisfyingly popped. It was a dramatic element that Neely could have done without, one which stuck with her till the actors took their bows and beyond. Perched on a stool in the theatre bar afterwards, she attempted to steer the conversation and her feelings somewhere safe.
"I was surprised to get your text about church. I didn't think you were much interested in it for itself."
Ray looked slightly embarrassed. "Well I'm not sure to what extent I am. But I think I need to establish a little balance." He leaned across the table as he spoke and she tried to look into the blue of his eyes, rather than fixate on the light chest-hair visible past the unbuttoned section of his shirt.
"What kind of balance?" His after-shave was a sea-salt tang in her nostrils. She endeavoured to focus on his conversation.
"The type you always talk about. To remind myself of the whole of you, all your interests and aspects, not just the side I got carried away with on your birthday."
Now even the conversation was problematic. This was not where Neely had hoped it would go. "I don't want you to worry about that..."
"It does worry me," he said. "It worries me that something I did to make you feel good on your birthday, to make you feel special and sexy, had the opposite effect."
"It didn't..." Emotion for him swelled within Neely and she wished that she could reassure him fully. "Well it... it did make me feel those things..." She couldn't look at him. "...Sexy and special. It's just... just... You know how much of a conflict it is for me. I can't just give in to those... feelings..."
"It's a conflict for me too." His voice was low and earnest. The tone arrested her and she looked at him again. "I wanted you so much, Tuesday night. I'm not apologising for what I did, because I think you deserve to feel how that obviously made you feel. You're this beautiful passionate girl with a lust for life and I just don't see that God or man could accuse you of doing anything wrong in... in enjoying that gift." Neely instinctively went to explain how it wasn't simply a matter of feeling accused by God, that it was all to do with adhering to priorities in life, that it all tied into a much broader system of belief, but he stopped her. "Look, Neely, that doesn't mean I intend to try and push anything else on you. I promise faithfully to myself every day that I won't. I haven't forgotten anything you've said on the subject and it doesn't make less sense than it did. It's just..."
"Just what?" Neely asked with trepidation. She didn't need Ray going back on his avowal.
"Look, I'm not sure this is the place to talk about it." Proximity of other theatre-goers was making her a little self-conscious, it was true. "Maybe wait till we're in the car?" She agreed and tried to relax back into light-hearted chat, keeping her mind away from all the associations that went with lovers in cars driving their way to secluded places...
They sat in Ray's BMW just down from the theatre shortly after. Neely felt less and more exposed. "What I was trying to say back there..." Ray continued, and her toes curled a little in fear and fascination. "It's why I thought of the church thing. Discover more about why you believe what you believe. Get to know some of your church friends a bit better. Because I just need to get a handle on what I'm feeling here."
"And... what are you feeling?"
"I... I... Damn, I shouldn't even tell you this stuff. It's probably not helpful."
"No, Ray, you should. We need to be honest with each other. I need to know what you're thinking." It scared her, but she was sure this was the right line to take.
"I'm trying to get some perspective on my feelings, my frustrations. Not," he added hastily, "just frustrations about the physical aspect of sex. It's way more than that. I've never met anyone like you before, Neely. There's a difference between wanting to have sex with someone just because they're physically attractive and give you the horn - which you are and do -" He squeezed her jean-clad knee as though to reassure and she giggled a little in her fearful, pleased embarrassment. "...And wanting to make love to them because of who they are. Because you want to experience this amazing person in that way." Neely was as moved as she was aroused. Ray's face seemed to cloud a little. "I have such dreams about you..."
"You do?" Against her better judgement Neely wanted to know.
"You have no idea." He looked away as though shamed by his confession. "Just... crazy dreams. I shouldn't even be saying this."
"I... I..." Neely kind of agreed at this point, but she didn't want to stem the pent-up inner thoughts to which he was giving vent. "No, it's better you say it..."
"I wake up and my head's just full to bursting with... images of making love to you. How amazing that would be. With you. Tender, passionate, but not just that. It's not like I think you'd break. I see... I sense so much passion in you and I think I know how intense it would be. How wild you would drive me, the things I would... The ways... Jesus... Sorry, shouldn't swear like that. And shouldn't... shouldn't be such a typically horny guy I suppose."
"It's okay, it's okay..." Neely stroked Ray's arm as she always did when he agonised, but she too was feeling horribly tormented and her panties were as soaked as they had been on their birthday date. "You're not typical..."
"If I care about you, then I need to respect what you believe. Not fixate on that one aspect of our relationship, just like you say."
"Yes, I know that. But you're a guy, you're allowed to feel frustrated, I need to understand that too." Like I'm NOT frustrated? Flaming hell... "We need to be able to talk it out."
"Yes, well sometimes talking just makes it harder," he smiled ruefully. "Pun intended." Neely glanced inadvertently at his trouser crotch, which was indeed under considerable duress. "Caught you," he said, and she looked up to see him grin. They laughed together at it almost uproariously, but her face was flaming at the same time. "Look," he told her, "let me get you home before I say something even more inappropriate."