He wasn’t sure she had meant it, he wasn’t even sure he had understood, but when she’d asked him to meet her in her father’s study after diner, he’d said yes. Well, not so much said as nodded frantically. There was something about Honoria Glossop that made every bone in Gussie Fink-Nottle’s body rattle. He was afraid of her, of course, like everyone was. The woman could probably lift a car with her bare hands. But there was something else, as well.
He was pacing the study, trying to figure out what exactly that something else was, when she finally walked in. Gussie looked up, attempting to smile. “What ho, Honoria,” he said.
She was wearing a dark blue dress, cinched at the waist. Her arms were exposed, and Gussie noticed that they were tan and slightly muscular. Quite beautiful, really.
“Hello, Augustus,” she said, closing the door behind her.
For a moment, there reigned an uncomfortable sort of silence. Gussie bit the inside of his cheeks. Honoria took one step closer to him. “You know, Gussie, I couldn’t help but notice the way the light fell upon your cheek tonight,” she said softly – she who was usually so loud!
“The light?” Gussie repeated, stupidly, “My cheek?”
“Yes,” Honoria took another step towards him, “and the way you blushed when you dropped your spoon at diner.”
Gussie wasn’t very good at love – he wasn’t very good at anything, in all honesty, except taking care of newts. But he knew this had something to do with it – love, that is. All this talk of light and cheeks and blushing… he’d heard it all before, except he was quite certain it had been uttered by someone like Bingo Little, and that it hadn’t been directed at him, but at some beautiful young lady.
“I – I, er…” he stammered.
Honoria was standing very close to him now. She placed her hand on his sleeve. “Oh, Gussie! You’re so helpless… so fragile and vulnerable…”
“Well, I – I suppose, sometimes…”
“You need someone to guide you.”
“Perhaps, yes.”
“Someone to teach you… to take your innocence away… to shape the blushing boy that you are into a man.”
Suddenly the room was very warm, and Honoria’s body very close. There was a chair behind Gussie, and Honoria pushed him into it. He fell back, startled and – he couldn’t really hide it – terribly aroused.
“Why, Honoria,” he stared at her, eyes wide with wonder, “are you making love to me?”
She threw her head back and laughed loudly. “Of course I am, you silly boy.”
Gussie was confused. He thought it was the male’s job to make love to the female, or at least that was what they said in the Drones. Come to think of it, only chaps like Bingo and Tuppy ever talked about making love to girls. Others, like Barmy Fotheringay-Phipps or Bertie Wooster, were mostly interested in staring at advertisements for men’s underwear in the paper.
So it couldn’t be that bad if Honoria was the one making love to him; could it?
Just then, she leaned over him, placed both her hands on the back of his chair and looked him in the eyes. “Tell me now, Augustus: will you let me teach you?”
“T-Teach me?”
She slid her leg between his and pushed his thighs apart with her knee. “Yes,” she purred, “Will you let me be your mistress?”
Gussie’s mind had gone blank. It was as if everything alive and sensible in him had travelled south, to the one place in his body that was awake and still stirring. “Do you know how a male newt proposes, Honoria?” he said. It was the only thing he could think of. “He stands in front of the female newt vibrating his tail and bending his body in a semi-circle.”
Usually, when he spoke of newts, ladies and gentlemen alike would wince and wave their hands at him dismissively. But not Honoria. This talk of vibrating tails and bent bodies produced the most extraordinary effect: in one powerful movement, Honoria pulled Gussie out of the chair and pushed him up onto her father’s writing-desk. She tugged at his trousers forcefully, until they were bunched around his ankles.
“Lesson number one,” she growled as she fondled him through his underwear, “I will teach you how to be obedient and silent while your mistress rides you like a stallion.”
Gussie could hardly believe what was happening, and he was about to ask if this wasn’t a dream, but then Honoria did something that made his head fall back against the desk in pleasure, and for the rest of the night he was lost in that state of ecstasy.
no subject
He was pacing the study, trying to figure out what exactly that something else was, when she finally walked in. Gussie looked up, attempting to smile. “What ho, Honoria,” he said.
She was wearing a dark blue dress, cinched at the waist. Her arms were exposed, and Gussie noticed that they were tan and slightly muscular. Quite beautiful, really.
“Hello, Augustus,” she said, closing the door behind her.
For a moment, there reigned an uncomfortable sort of silence. Gussie bit the inside of his cheeks. Honoria took one step closer to him. “You know, Gussie, I couldn’t help but notice the way the light fell upon your cheek tonight,” she said softly – she who was usually so loud!
“The light?” Gussie repeated, stupidly, “My cheek?”
“Yes,” Honoria took another step towards him, “and the way you blushed when you dropped your spoon at diner.”
Gussie wasn’t very good at love – he wasn’t very good at anything, in all honesty, except taking care of newts. But he knew this had something to do with it – love, that is. All this talk of light and cheeks and blushing… he’d heard it all before, except he was quite certain it had been uttered by someone like Bingo Little, and that it hadn’t been directed at him, but at some beautiful young lady.
“I – I, er…” he stammered.
Honoria was standing very close to him now. She placed her hand on his sleeve. “Oh, Gussie! You’re so helpless… so fragile and vulnerable…”
“Well, I – I suppose, sometimes…”
“You need someone to guide you.”
“Perhaps, yes.”
“Someone to teach you… to take your innocence away… to shape the blushing boy that you are into a man.”
Suddenly the room was very warm, and Honoria’s body very close. There was a chair behind Gussie, and Honoria pushed him into it. He fell back, startled and – he couldn’t really hide it – terribly aroused.
“Why, Honoria,” he stared at her, eyes wide with wonder, “are you making love to me?”
She threw her head back and laughed loudly. “Of course I am, you silly boy.”
Gussie was confused. He thought it was the male’s job to make love to the female, or at least that was what they said in the Drones. Come to think of it, only chaps like Bingo and Tuppy ever talked about making love to girls. Others, like Barmy Fotheringay-Phipps or Bertie Wooster, were mostly interested in staring at advertisements for men’s underwear in the paper.
So it couldn’t be that bad if Honoria was the one making love to him; could it?
Just then, she leaned over him, placed both her hands on the back of his chair and looked him in the eyes. “Tell me now, Augustus: will you let me teach you?”
“T-Teach me?”
She slid her leg between his and pushed his thighs apart with her knee. “Yes,” she purred, “Will you let me be your mistress?”
Gussie’s mind had gone blank. It was as if everything alive and sensible in him had travelled south, to the one place in his body that was awake and still stirring. “Do you know how a male newt proposes, Honoria?” he said. It was the only thing he could think of. “He stands in front of the female newt vibrating his tail and bending his body in a semi-circle.”
Usually, when he spoke of newts, ladies and gentlemen alike would wince and wave their hands at him dismissively. But not Honoria. This talk of vibrating tails and bent bodies produced the most extraordinary effect: in one powerful movement, Honoria pulled Gussie out of the chair and pushed him up onto her father’s writing-desk. She tugged at his trousers forcefully, until they were bunched around his ankles.
“Lesson number one,” she growled as she fondled him through his underwear, “I will teach you how to be obedient and silent while your mistress rides you like a stallion.”
Gussie could hardly believe what was happening, and he was about to ask if this wasn’t a dream, but then Honoria did something that made his head fall back against the desk in pleasure, and for the rest of the night he was lost in that state of ecstasy.