‘Jeeves,’ I moaned, ‘there's someone in the bushes.’ ‘Mister Little and Lord Chuffnell, if I am not mistaken, sir.’ ‘Good lord!’ I cried, although the exclamation had more to do with the way Jeeves was coming and going between my thighs than with this newly acquired knowledge. ‘And should we… let them… watch?’ ‘Yes,’ he whispered into my ear, ‘let them know that… you are mine…’
No, no, no – wait a minute. I've gone off the rails. I never know where to begin these dashed stories. Oh, well. It doesn’t really matter. I don’t think you’re here for the narrative, what? You want – as much as I do – to get to the heart of the matter. But I shall make a brief report nonetheless.
It was a cracking day; early spring, flowers in bloom, birds chirping and all that. We were spending the week at Chuffnell Hall, and young Bingo had been invited as well. I was having a spiffing good time – spending my days with the chaps and my nights in bed with Jeeves. And on this particularly cracking day, Jeeves had thought it amusing to tease the young master with his shapely thighs and perfect derriere.
Well, I say “tease”, but in all honesty the man isn’t to blame. No, it was those dashed trousers, clinging to him in such outrageous ways. Stripped of my senses, I followed him into the garden and kissed him against the greenhouse wall. He responded with the same enthusiasm, and before long I was shoved against the wall myself, wearing nothing but my shirt while the rest lay in a heap on the ground. Jeeves grabbed me by the waist and lifted me up, his trousers and smalls pooling around his ankles. I wrapped my legs around him.
Only a few hours earlier, we had indulged in, er, you know, certain activities which had left me quite prepared for what came next. You will forgive me for restating what I've said so many times before, but Jeeves is a wonder. An expert in everything he does – and this was no exception. He held me against the wall and started slowly, with languid but precise movements that made young Bertram whimper with pleasure.
FILL: Another Wonderful Idea | Part One
‘Mister Little and Lord Chuffnell, if I am not mistaken, sir.’
‘Good lord!’ I cried, although the exclamation had more to do with the way Jeeves was coming and going between my thighs than with this newly acquired knowledge. ‘And should we… let them… watch?’
‘Yes,’ he whispered into my ear, ‘let them know that… you are mine…’
No, no, no – wait a minute. I've gone off the rails. I never know where to begin these dashed stories. Oh, well. It doesn’t really matter. I don’t think you’re here for the narrative, what? You want – as much as I do – to get to the heart of the matter. But I shall make a brief report nonetheless.
It was a cracking day; early spring, flowers in bloom, birds chirping and all that. We were spending the week at Chuffnell Hall, and young Bingo had been invited as well. I was having a spiffing good time – spending my days with the chaps and my nights in bed with Jeeves. And on this particularly cracking day, Jeeves had thought it amusing to tease the young master with his shapely thighs and perfect derriere.
Well, I say “tease”, but in all honesty the man isn’t to blame. No, it was those dashed trousers, clinging to him in such outrageous ways. Stripped of my senses, I followed him into the garden and kissed him against the greenhouse wall. He responded with the same enthusiasm, and before long I was shoved against the wall myself, wearing nothing but my shirt while the rest lay in a heap on the ground. Jeeves grabbed me by the waist and lifted me up, his trousers and smalls pooling around his ankles. I wrapped my legs around him.
Only a few hours earlier, we had indulged in, er, you know, certain activities which had left me quite prepared for what came next. You will forgive me for restating what I've said so many times before, but Jeeves is a wonder. An expert in everything he does – and this was no exception.
He held me against the wall and started slowly, with languid but precise movements that made young Bertram whimper with pleasure.