Nailing Neely Jordan Ch. 06

04/07/10 12:58 GMT

Well Carlotta --

It seems my strategy is about to pay handsome dividends. You may have to make good on every rash promise you've made, come Monday 12^th. I have before me a text message from the divine Miss J, suggesting an impromptu supper date at my apartment this evening. My lovely Neely has been strangely moved by our recent interaction and desires, I suspect, to take things significantly further. Oh ye of little faith, Lotta. Seems I'm about to bring this one home.

One thing -- I thought there was honour amongst debauchers? You've always trusted my word in the past and you know I believe in earning my pleasures. So surely there's no need for photographic evidence. To be quite frank it strikes me as a little tacky. I think we can allow the girl some dignity, don't you? Let's just forget the pic.

Ray

04/07/10 09:17 PST

All a tad premature, I think, Raymond. It's not over till the Jesus-girl comes. On your cock, to be precise. And my 'tacky' request -- this from a man who bangs freshman students in public shower-stalls for the common entertainment? Give me a break.

Let's say I do trust your word, Ray. That you'll be scrupulously honest regarding your degree of success this evening, based in whatever kinked sense of honour you still possess. Maybe I just want the photograph as a memento of our little challenge. The before and after -- Neely Jordan, saint to sinner. Or just maybe I want confirmation that your predatory instincts aren't being blunted by misplaced sentiment. Either way, the photo is a stipulation. I possess it, or you never possess me in this life, and the whole damn thing has been a waste of both our time.

You've fucked around too long, Ray. Do this thing tonight and send me proof.

Carlotta.

* * * *

Neely received the phone-calls on top of each other. She heard the incoming-call tone even as she was speaking to Ray.

"Hey, beautiful girl," her boyfriend said on her answer, and her renewed conflict eased at the warmth of his tone. "I'm in tonight, for you and no one else. You're... sure about this? If you're suggesting what I think you are..."

Neely paused. The sacrifice she was contemplating was just too damn huge without an additional confirmation. "Did you mean everything you said last night, Ray? I mean everything?"

He paused as well and when he spoke it was as though he'd held back to show that his response was no reflex. "I've never said those things to anyone before you, Neely. And I meant them all."

She closed her eyes in gratitude. His few words' reassurance made her decision so much plainer. "Then I'm sure," she told him softly. "See you around ten?"

"I'll see you then, Neely J."

Despite the lowering clouds of guilt there was something luxurious in ceasing to struggle. It was decided and simple. Relatively speaking . She checked the call she had missed and set about dealing with one of the complications.

"Jonas. Hi. You'll want to talk about tonight then..." The workshop was such immaculate timing, she thought wryly. How had it all come to this?

"Well, yeah..." That same sheepishness in his tone which had replaced the good-humour of old. "Just wanted to check you're...ehhh..."

"Down with the plan? Well unless it's changed since we discussed it last..."

"No, no, it's the same. And I stuck in all in an email if you want to go check it. I'll rig up all the audio-visual stuff before the service and we'll be all set. Look, Neely, I appreciate you doing this with me. More than you know. I mean you could have put the kybosh on the whole thing. On me, for that matter."

"Jonas, I..." She fought for words in the midst of all her spiritual bewilderment. What a pair they were, if only he knew. "You're a good guy, I haven't stopped thinking that."

"Look," he said warily, "we can still help these kids make good choices, right?"

"Good choices..." Her mind drifted to a recent oily encounter with a certain borderline atheist and of their imminent follow-up liaison. "Yes... Yes Jonas, we can do that. I'm sure. Hey, I'll see you at the service, okay?"

As she clicked off her phone the weight of her own moral compromise threatened to crush her. "I can't do this," she breathed, without properly believing it. She tried again - "This has got to stop..." - and focused hard on her responsibility that evening -- to provide the Alton Bridge youngsters with a solid Christian alternative to the doctrine of self-gratification. How could she possibly do that and then freely embrace her own erotic desires? However enticing that prospect. However delectable...

Her hand drifted towards Odyssey of Lust on the bedside table and she let it drift, wanting to feed her burgeoning fantasies, wanting the book to do its work as psychological lubricant one more time. Thumbing through the pages she went beyond the seedy father/son threesome in chapter fourteen and to the section beyond, tantalisingly entitled Sapphire's Release. There she found the novel's heroine returned to her luxurious bedroom-prison in the Bavarian Castle Buchenwald, awaiting her next ingenious sexual trial at the hands of the Duke and his debauched guests. Of course Neely was in no prison...

Sapphire sat bolt upright, pulling the silk sheets and heavy quilt around her freshly-bathed naked body. "Who's there?" she asked, trembling with trepidation and peering into the darkness. "Duke Buchenwald, is that you?"

"Hush my darling," said a voice she recognised from the few times she had heard it. "The Duke does not know I am here. It is I, Prince Sven."

Sapphire's heart leapt. Prince Sven - the rogue member of the Swedish royal family, Neely recalled, renowned for his womanising exploits all over the Western World - had been the one guest of the Duke's not to lay a finger on her. Each time she had been taken he had stood back and observed with an enigmatic expression on his strong handsome face. "How did you get in here?" she gasped.

"I foiled the Duke's secret locking mechanism and drugged his guard dogs," he told her from the shadows beyond the window. "In face I have drugged everyone else in the castle. I have come to rescue you, my Princess."

This was fast turning into one the daftest passages in the book, but it still gripped Neely's attention and accelerated her heart.

Sapphire heard a rustling sound and then he stepped into the moonlight that poured through the huge barred window. She saw his cock first, standing before him like the flagpole that stood proudly outside his father's palace, then the rest of him. "Ehhh -- Prince," she inquired, staring in awe at his massive erection, "if you're here to rescue me, then why have you taken off all your clothes?"

"Because first, my darling, I must fuck you," he answered with fever in his voice. "Claim your body as my own, then take you away from this place forever. Do you like this plan?"

"Very much," she said, letting the bedclothes fall away and coming to him in the centre of the room so that he could see her naked beauty in the moonlight. "I think it's a wonderful plan!" She ran a hand through his blond hair, then trailed it down his muscled chest to where his thick staff trembled before his stomach.

"Ohhh heavens," moaned Neely, her visual of the scene clear like none other had been in all her reading. Blond and beautiful with a huge priapic member all primed. Ready to take Sapphire, then take her away...

"That feels so good," groaned the Prince, as her fingers fluttered all over his cock. "Now get to your knees, my beauty, and take me in your mouth."

Sapphire obeyed gladly, kneeling before him with pale moonlight splashing all over her curvaceous body and lighting up the splendour of his. She gripped his firm buttocks with both hands and claimed his splendid tool with her mouth, slavering her tongue all over the salty head and enveloping him completely.

Neely heard herself emit a delirious little moan as all the taste and sensation of the previous night came back to her. To be reading this, now...

"Suck on me, my Princess," he urged, stretching his fingers through her curls and drawing her further down onto his shaft. "Suck on my royal sceptre, feast on a cock born of kings... Neely would have snorted with laughter on any other afternoon. I will fuck you mightily on this bed, then take you away with me and ream you in all the capitals of Europe."

She felt herself lifted from his dripping shaft with a slurp and raised to her feet. He seized her gently with one hand on her face and the other gripping her waist and walked her backwards to the great four-poster bed. "However you have been fucked before," he told her, his stately attachment brushing her soft stomach, "now you shall receive a princely fucking you shall never forget. Tonight, Sapphire, you will be a virgin deflowered all over again..."

Neely set down the book in shock. Okay, didn't need to read that. Did not need to read that. And she couldn't bring herself even to look at what came next. What point was there, when she could face up to the reality that night?

"I'm going to do this," she breathed in terrified wonder, rocking herself back and forth as she perched on the bed. "I really going to do it..." Forgive me, she added vaguely in her thoughts. I don't think I can help myself...

She set about the practical aspects of the business, commencing with a judicious pruning of her pubic zone. It was the most tormenting part of the whole sequence, for all else could be passed off as her regular ablutions; the trimming and shaping of this thick grove into a neat triangle of red thatch, however, underscored her intentions. She was preparing herself top to bottom for a grand unveiling.

Her shower was perfunctory; no further need to indulge in soapy flights of fantasy. The towelling-down and moisturising of her body was carried through in a similarly functional manner, but the drying and brushing out of those cascading red tresses was done with love. If she really were at last going to be tumbled, she wanted those locks, on which had centred all her Christian struggles with vanity, to look amazing. And then there was the question of what to wear.

Since she would go straight to Ray's from church -- assuming something divinely wrathful didn't happen on the way -- she had to dress for both. A few cosmetic additions could be made after she'd left Alton Bridge, but the thought of having anything sexy tucked away in her purse appalled her. A change from that morning into a different dress -- the demure pale-blue one with the pleated skirt -- would do. And under it... She opened her bottom drawer, the one where on a nightly basis she secreted her vibrator, and searched out the lilac bra and pantie set. Jasmin had presented it to her the previous Christmas and as yet it had not been given a proper airing. Tonight, it seemed, was the night for which her sexiest lingerie had been waiting.

It gave her a dubious thrill to draw the floral-embroidered lace thong up her thighs and feel the snug fit around her tidily-gardened loins. She felt a similar frisson as she encased her breasts in the pretty half-cup brassiere, adorned so tastefully between the cups with a little silk bow. The result, as she checked herself slyly in the mirror, gave her a rush of guilty satisfaction. Surely Ray would be pleased at this. Surely he would relish reversing the manoeuvre she had just performed, whether with slow and tender appreciation or in a sudden burst of wild desire. The thought moistened her in an instant and she broke away to cover up in the modesty of the dress before she felt overcome.

Okay... Brush and floss. Subtly apply mascara and a touch of lipstick. Slip feet into her heeled sandals and check the contents of her purse. The sandwich she had forced herself to eat in the kitchen should sustain her the rest of the day, but she packed a cereal bar just in case light-headedness threatened later. She was all set to leave when she bumped into Jasmin in the kitchen doorway.

"Hey babe, off to church?" Her impishly-proportioned roommate was dressed in lazy-day beachwear, hair tied back showing off her face's delicate bone-structure. Then the girl's eyes strayed to what was obviously peeking from beneath the shoulder-straps of Neely's dress and widened a little. "You're finally wearing the lilac number? To church?"

"Well..." The waning of Jasmin's interest in Neely's love-life these past two weeks had been disconcerting, but she didn't need it to resurrect now. "Can't I look pretty to church then?" she ventured.

"Well sure," admitted Jasmin, slipping past her into the kitchen. "God created 'sexy' and all that. But you're not wearing that lingerie for the Lord, are you?"

"Jaz..." Please don't do this, I'm begging you...

Jasmin looked around at her from where she was pouring herself a glass of water from the sink, her expression rather more serious -- make that probing, concerned - than Neely might have expected. "I've got a feeling, to quote the song, that tonight's gonna to be a good night. Am I wrong, Neely?"

"It'll be... fun, you know..." the cornered redhead replied weakly. Jasmin was so obviously picking up the evening's significance on her well-tried radar, but Neely tried to play innocent nonetheless. "Hanging out with Ray, want to look nice for him."

"Oh you will do," assured Jasmin, smiling but without her traditional tease. She gave one of those new lengthy paused of hers. "Well... you have a nice evening..."

"Thanks, Jaz, I will." Neely made a break for it, before the situation could become more excruciating, but Jasmin was too quick for her.

"You don't have to do this."

She froze in the doorway and turned, face flushing. "Sorry? Do what?"

"What you're thinking of doing tonight. With Ray. Neely, you don't have to do it."

She stared at her friend, perplexed on a couple of levels. "What makes you think I'm... I'm planning on doing anything?"

"Because you're terrified." Well that was no surprise, Neely supposed, gripping the door handle for support and staring at the linoleum. She hadn't really managed to bury her intentions deep. "And," pointed out Jasmin, "all that extra preparation."

"Well if I am," said Neely, feeling peculiarly defiant as she looked back at her friend, "it's my choice, right? Same as it's always been. I wasn't expecting you to try and talk me out of it. I'll see you later." She went to go a second time.

"Neely... Neely I'm sorry!" The words alone arrested her, let alone the urgency with which they were blurted out. She stared around at her friend with a vague foreboding.

"What for, Jaz?"

Jasmin looked even more flushed than Neely felt. She was twisting one foot against the other in her unease. "I... shouldn't have kept pushing you."

"What?" Neely was quite amazed at her friend.

"Teasing you and trying to push you into something against your will. Saying Ray would expect to sleep with you..." The words were now rushing out. "I mean, who the hell am I to go telling you to sleep with anyone? What good's it ever done to me? My relationships are rubbish, they always get messed up one way or another... Look, maybe your way's better! Are you sure Ray's right for you? I mean he seems a nice guy and everything, but... Maybe you should wait to meet somebody in the church! Somebody who gets you, who'll wait. I don't want you to get all messed up on my stupid account, or because he puts some kind of pressure on you..."

Neely rushed to her friend, trying to stanch the flow of words along with the tears which threatened to accompany. "Jaz, Jaz, Jaz..." She gripped the petite brunette by the shoulders. "Just stop, okay? Wow, whoever that guy was, he really messed up your head! I'm not doing anything because you've pushed me or because Ray's pressurizing me... I am capable of making my own decisions, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know..." Jasmin mumbled, still looking terribly forlorn.

Neely hugged her friend close, surprised to find herself being the strong one in this situation. "Look... There are things I have to work out for myself, you know? And... maybe I am scared, maybe I hardly know what's going on in my life right now... But I make my own choices and I'm the one who'll take responsibility for them. I won't expect anyone else to, I promise." She planted a kiss on Jasmin's forehead and smiled at her bravely. "Now wish me luck. Kind of figured you'd be cheering me on here."

"I am," said Jasmin, trying to smile through her glumness. "Just be careful, okay?"

"Careful?" Neely almost laughed. "Listen to you... You sound like my dad." Then a care-related issue clouded her thoughts, something about which she'd worried but had yet to act on. She imagined Ray would be prepared, but she shouldn't assume. And ducking into a pharmacy on the way to church felt like a nightmare too far. "Jaz... Jaz, you haven't got any... any..."

"In my purse. Got a packet unopened."

"Wow. Modern woman."

"Yup. Much good it does me. Shall I fetch them?"

"Would you? That would be... helpful."

Her roommate returned a moment later and pressed the little cellophane-wrapped packet into Neely's hand, a moment of girlish conspiracy uniting them. Neely looked at her friend in gratitude. It was nice to have this moment minus the sly humour. "You sure you're doing the right thing?" Jasmin asked simply.

"No," she replied, squeezing her friend's hand. "Not remotely. Bye."

Prophylactically equipped for the first time in her life, Neely made her long-seeming way to Alton Bridge. The embarrassing item she had zipped safely into a compartment within her purse, to avoid a rerun of the birthday vibrator incident. Her sinful plans she locked away in a similarly safe mental compartment. She had used the same tactic on her Disney World trip, when older sister Layla had insisted they ride Space Mountain. All terror regarding the forthcoming ordeal she had shut away, focusing on Goofy, Caribbean pirates and candyfloss, anything else, only facing up to her fear once she was on board the ride. Thus she would get through her evening at church. If only she didn't have to be quite so proactively involved. And dealing with the topic she wanted most to avoid...

"Hey, you got the email, right? All set for later?" Jonas approached her in the entrance hall, as chattering worshippers filtered past them into the mail part of the church. His discomfort with her seemed to have increased.

"Yeah, I got it," she told him softly. "Same as what we discussed. It's all fine."

"Look," he said confidentially, "if we just approach it as -- well -- providing them with a bit of guidance... We're still on the same page about that, right?"

"Sure we are," she said, trying to smile reassurance through her unease. Who was she that night to make her co-worker feel any more awkward than he already did? "Really, Jonas, I'm okay about the workshop. We'll just do it like we planned. It'll be great, I'm sure. I'm cool with everything."

"Good. Right." He went off somewhat bemused to sit with Leona, and Neely managed to find space beside some church newbies, with whom she didn't especially have to chat. The Alton Bridge worship band kicked in and she let the service happen around her. She mumbled her way through the songs, forced a smile any time the Pastor made a joke and bowed her head for prayers in which she suddenly felt no right to join. She had to swallow a cringe when called on to stand up where she was and remind the teens about the after-service workshop.

"Yes," she said, voice wobbling slightly along with her legs, "I'm sure you all know about it by now -- you'll have seen the posters and you know what we'll be discussing in the coffee bar at eight o'clock." Every eye in the church was upon her and she felt sure the evening sunshine would somehow cut through her thoroughly opaque dress, exposing her sluttish lingerie along with her intentions. "It -- eh -- promises to be interesting and hopefully very valuable... for us all."