Those who know me will tell you without a moment’s hesitation that Bertram Wooster always receives guests, friends, cousins and aunts with open arms. It is a duty and a pleasure. Well, at least that’s what I thought before this unfortunate episode.
The truth is that sometimes guests, friends, cousins and aunts can be a bally nuisance. Imagine it was one of those topping mornings, and you had just climbed out from under the shower, and from the kitchen came the sounds and smells of breakfast. Imagine your valet – the most handsome chap you’d ever laid eyes upon – knocking at the bathroom door, and you opening it with a hearty ‘what ho, Jeeves!’
But then imagine the shock of hearing your valet – the most h. c. you’d ever laid eyes upon – cough uncomfortably and say, ‘Mister Fotheringay-Phipps wishes to see you, sir.’
‘Old Barmy?’ I said.
‘Yes, sir. He is waiting in the sitting-room.’
‘But it’s barely ten o'clock!’
‘I’m afraid Mister Fotheringay-Phipps was most insistent, sir.’
‘But – but, before breakfast?’
Jeeves sighed. There was nothing to be done about it, then.
You see, this was a short time after Jeeves had made me the happiest man alive. It happened one night in – oh, it's a long story, and I haven't time to tell you now, but the point is that we were a pair of lovebirds. In the privacy of our rooms we were like a couple of those Greek chappies. We spent a few hours alone together, every morning after breakfast and every evening after dinner, and those hours were the best of the day.
So you understand that this ill-timed intrusion was annoying, to say the least. I felt jolly well oppressed, to be kept away from my Jeeves by Barmy Fotheringay-Phipps at such an early hour.
‘Not much we can do about it, is there?’
‘I fear not, sir.’
‘Well then, Jeeves. This will be a trial of patience, what?’
I said it with a smile, trying to make light of the sitch. Had I known that after Barmy – who came begging Jeeves to solve a problem he had with his uncle – had I known that after he left there would be three more unwanted guests, I wouldn’t have been so willing to smile.
After Barmy came Tuppy, and after Tuppy my cousin Angela – they’d been quarrelling as usual. By late-afternoon we thought we’d earned our peace, and with eager fingers I reached to unbutton Jeeves’ shirt. But another tap at the door made us both start: it was my aunt Dahlia, and she proclaimed that she would be staying with us for a few days.
Everyone knows that an aunt’s will is a destructive force of nature. You do not fight it, you simply hope it will spare you and wait for it to pass.
The next few days were absolutely ghastly. I spent them sulking in a chair at the Drones, or sulking in a chair at home, or sulking while Jeeves bent over the table to serve us tea, my eyes watering at the injustice of it all.
The moment Jeeves closed the door behind Aunt Dahlia I sighed with relief. I opened my mouth to speak – ‘a trial of patience indeed!’ – but I was silenced by Jeeves’ lips against mine. I melted into the kiss, bringing my hands up to run them through my man’s hair. He steered me backwards, kissing me deeply, until my back collided with the piano and I brought my hands down on the keys, producing delicious sounds of discord. Jeeves’ hands were between my thighs, fondling me through my trousers. He captured my lower lip between his and pulled on it.
I was already aching, throbbing and stiff with desire. Jeeves was usually a gentle lover – he liked to take his time, and often asked me what gave me the most pleasure. But today he was impatient and forceful, handling my body like I was his property. The thought nearly drove me mad with lust.
He stripped me of my clothes, fast and eager, then he flipped me over so that I was facing the piano. My heart pounded in my chest. He had never been this rough with me before. I loved it.
He nudged my legs apart with his knee and bent me over the piano. I heard him undoing the buttons on his trousers and I shivered in anticipation. He spat in his hand and brought it between my thighs, moving his fingers slowly inside me. I gasped, trembling at his harshness, at the strength with which he gripped my hip.
‘It was agony to wait,’ he whispered as he drove his fingers in and out of me, ‘Agony – not being able to touch you...’
I spread my legs further apart for him, pushing back against his fingers with a wanton moan. Good lord, I wanted more. He must have deemed me ready, because he removed his fingers and I heard him preparing himself. I clutched the edge of the piano.
I gasped as he gave the first thrust. He was usually so patient, so careful – this was the exact opposite. I closed my eyes against the pain. I knew that he would stop if I showed the slightest sign of serious discomfort, but I was enjoying this. I wanted him to be careless and rough. With a second, more powerful thrust, he was buried inside me, and we both moaned.
He gave me less than a second to adjust, and then he started slamming into me, his fingers digging into my hips. I cried out in pain and pleasure. He slid one hand up my back and into my hair, and he pulled my head up, the slight change in position bringing him deeper inside me.
‘So tight…’ he groaned.
The piano was shaking with the force of his thrusts. I could feel every inch of him, large, throbbing, owning me with each mighty lurch. I moaned his name – this seemed to excite him even more; without warning, he struck my buttock with his palm. The sweet pain sent a new wave of pleasure coursing through me. He brought his hand down again, and I moaned louder.
Pinned against the piano, I was powerless. He could do whatever he pleased with me.
Still pounding into me, he reached around my waist, took me in his hand and began stroking me. I whimpered, pleasure taking over my body, and I knew that I wouldn’t last much longer. He shifted only slightly, but it was the perfect position: I felt him against that spot, once, twice, too much; I was so close, ‘oh Jeeves please don’t stop’…
I reached my climax and he followed only seconds later. We slid to the floor and lay there panting, limbs tangled, hearts racing. I was drifting off to sleep when he kissed my forehead lovingly.
‘I hope I was not too harsh?’ he asked, concern painting his voice.
‘No, you were perfect,’ I smiled at him.
He ran his fingers lazily through my hair. ‘Did you enjoy it?’
‘Rather,’ I laughed, gesturing towards the piano, coated with my seed.
‘Then perhaps it is an activity worth revisiting?’
‘Absolutely.’
He wrapped his arms around me with a tenderness I cannot describe, and in this sweet contentment we were blind to the world, seeing only each other and our perfect, perfect happiness.
FILL: Against the Piano!
The truth is that sometimes guests, friends, cousins and aunts can be a bally nuisance. Imagine it was one of those topping mornings, and you had just climbed out from under the shower, and from the kitchen came the sounds and smells of breakfast. Imagine your valet – the most handsome chap you’d ever laid eyes upon – knocking at the bathroom door, and you opening it with a hearty ‘what ho, Jeeves!’
But then imagine the shock of hearing your valet – the most h. c. you’d ever laid eyes upon – cough uncomfortably and say, ‘Mister Fotheringay-Phipps wishes to see you, sir.’
‘Old Barmy?’ I said.
‘Yes, sir. He is waiting in the sitting-room.’
‘But it’s barely ten o'clock!’
‘I’m afraid Mister Fotheringay-Phipps was most insistent, sir.’
‘But – but, before breakfast?’
Jeeves sighed. There was nothing to be done about it, then.
You see, this was a short time after Jeeves had made me the happiest man alive. It happened one night in – oh, it's a long story, and I haven't time to tell you now, but the point is that we were a pair of lovebirds. In the privacy of our rooms we were like a couple of those Greek chappies. We spent a few hours alone together, every morning after breakfast and every evening after dinner, and those hours were the best of the day.
So you understand that this ill-timed intrusion was annoying, to say the least. I felt jolly well oppressed, to be kept away from my Jeeves by Barmy Fotheringay-Phipps at such an early hour.
‘Not much we can do about it, is there?’
‘I fear not, sir.’
‘Well then, Jeeves. This will be a trial of patience, what?’
I said it with a smile, trying to make light of the sitch. Had I known that after Barmy – who came begging Jeeves to solve a problem he had with his uncle – had I known that after he left there would be three more unwanted guests, I wouldn’t have been so willing to smile.
After Barmy came Tuppy, and after Tuppy my cousin Angela – they’d been quarrelling as usual. By late-afternoon we thought we’d earned our peace, and with eager fingers I reached to unbutton Jeeves’ shirt. But another tap at the door made us both start: it was my aunt Dahlia, and she proclaimed that she would be staying with us for a few days.
Everyone knows that an aunt’s will is a destructive force of nature. You do not fight it, you simply hope it will spare you and wait for it to pass.
The next few days were absolutely ghastly. I spent them sulking in a chair at the Drones, or sulking in a chair at home, or sulking while Jeeves bent over the table to serve us tea, my eyes watering at the injustice of it all.
The moment Jeeves closed the door behind Aunt Dahlia I sighed with relief. I opened my mouth to speak – ‘a trial of patience indeed!’ – but I was silenced by Jeeves’ lips against mine. I melted into the kiss, bringing my hands up to run them through my man’s hair. He steered me backwards, kissing me deeply, until my back collided with the piano and I brought my hands down on the keys, producing delicious sounds of discord. Jeeves’ hands were between my thighs, fondling me through my trousers. He captured my lower lip between his and pulled on it.
I was already aching, throbbing and stiff with desire. Jeeves was usually a gentle lover – he liked to take his time, and often asked me what gave me the most pleasure. But today he was impatient and forceful, handling my body like I was his property. The thought nearly drove me mad with lust.
He stripped me of my clothes, fast and eager, then he flipped me over so that I was facing the piano. My heart pounded in my chest. He had never been this rough with me before. I loved it.
He nudged my legs apart with his knee and bent me over the piano. I heard him undoing the buttons on his trousers and I shivered in anticipation. He spat in his hand and brought it between my thighs, moving his fingers slowly inside me. I gasped, trembling at his harshness, at the strength with which he gripped my hip.
‘It was agony to wait,’ he whispered as he drove his fingers in and out of me, ‘Agony – not being able to touch you...’
I spread my legs further apart for him, pushing back against his fingers with a wanton moan. Good lord, I wanted more. He must have deemed me ready, because he removed his fingers and I heard him preparing himself. I clutched the edge of the piano.
I gasped as he gave the first thrust. He was usually so patient, so careful – this was the exact opposite. I closed my eyes against the pain. I knew that he would stop if I showed the slightest sign of serious discomfort, but I was enjoying this. I wanted him to be careless and rough. With a second, more powerful thrust, he was buried inside me, and we both moaned.
He gave me less than a second to adjust, and then he started slamming into me, his fingers digging into my hips. I cried out in pain and pleasure. He slid one hand up my back and into my hair, and he pulled my head up, the slight change in position bringing him deeper inside me.
‘So tight…’ he groaned.
The piano was shaking with the force of his thrusts. I could feel every inch of him, large, throbbing, owning me with each mighty lurch. I moaned his name – this seemed to excite him even more; without warning, he struck my buttock with his palm. The sweet pain sent a new wave of pleasure coursing through me. He brought his hand down again, and I moaned louder.
Pinned against the piano, I was powerless. He could do whatever he pleased with me.
Still pounding into me, he reached around my waist, took me in his hand and began stroking me. I whimpered, pleasure taking over my body, and I knew that I wouldn’t last much longer. He shifted only slightly, but it was the perfect position: I felt him against that spot, once, twice, too much; I was so close, ‘oh Jeeves please don’t stop’…
I reached my climax and he followed only seconds later. We slid to the floor and lay there panting, limbs tangled, hearts racing. I was drifting off to sleep when he kissed my forehead lovingly.
‘I hope I was not too harsh?’ he asked, concern painting his voice.
‘No, you were perfect,’ I smiled at him.
He ran his fingers lazily through my hair. ‘Did you enjoy it?’
‘Rather,’ I laughed, gesturing towards the piano, coated with my seed.
‘Then perhaps it is an activity worth revisiting?’
‘Absolutely.’
He wrapped his arms around me with a tenderness I cannot describe, and in this sweet contentment we were blind to the world, seeing only each other and our perfect, perfect happiness.