I have often marveled at how certain things in life have some sort of overpowering allure, a strong pull that is impossible to fight. It’s not unlike that gravi-thingummy – you know, the chap who got biffed on the head with an apple and all that rot. What I mean to say is that some things are simply impossible to resist, no matter how improper they’re supposed to be. And I do believe that anyone reading this can agree with me.
Well, Jeeves is one of those irresistible things. More specifically, Jeeves in late June, climbing out of a refreshing bath, a towel wrapped around his waist. I watched him as he closed the bathroom door and entered his bedroom, where he leaned against the window to smoke a gasper.
“Now Bertram”, you might say, “is this behaviour worthy of the preux chevalier that you claim to be?”
But you must understand that the young master was not spying on his valet. I would never trespass in this manner; no, none of that from this Wooster. However – and here we come back to that irresistible pull business – yielding to his urges is perhaps the only crime of which the y. m. was guilty. You see, although still my gentleman’s gentleman, Jeeves had also become my fellow; my beau. And I was desperately in love with him – one cannot blame a chappie for acting upon love, can one?
So there I was, peering through the slit in the half-open door to Jeeves’ bedroom. Desire was rising in me at the sight of his naked back, his wet hair, the cigarette he brought to his lips, the soft sigh of contentment that escaped him when a light breeze struck…
And then a small smile appeared at the corner of his beautiful mouth. “Sir, I really must protest.”
Startled, I tripped on my own bally feet and stumbled into the bedroom. “I – I beg your pardon?” I stammered.
Jeeves put out his cigarette and turned to face me. I instantly recognized the playful, hungry look on his face; it made the heart flutter and the nether regions stiffen. He took a step towards me. “You are taking advantage of me, sir, and I cannot allow it.”
“I say, there must be some sort of misunderstanding,” I batted my eyelashes at him with false innocence.
“I think not, sir. You have violated my privacy.”
“Oh, Jeeves,” I moaned outrageously, “is there anything I can do to redeem myself?”
I noticed, with no small amount of pride, that a bulge now tented the front of his towel. He reached out and traced my lips with his thumb. “There might be…”
I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. What happened next was rather unmentionable, but I shall mention it all the same: after a fiery exchange of kisses and caresses, he undressed me, laid me down on the bed and let his towel fall to the floor. More kissing, more caressing, and then he threw my legs onto his shoulders and took me. It was all absolutely blissful, until –
“Darling!” Jeeves cried, his heavenly thrusts coming to a regrettable stop.
I looked up at him. “Yes, dear?”
“No. I mean the cat.”
I followed Jeeves’ gaze to the bedroom door, where our new cat – who is called “Darling”, but that is another story – sat watching us. I was quite annoyed with this interruption, I’m sure you understand. I tried to shoo her, but she wouldn’t move. Jeeves had gone quiet.
“Never mind her, she’s just a cat, what?” I tried to reason, but Jeeves only looked at me with horror. “Alright, alright,” I sighed, “She’ll leave in a minute, I’m sure.”
But she did not. Jeeves rolled off of me and covered himself with his towel.
“Jeeves! Come back here!” I exclaimed.
“Not while she is watching!” he protested.
I got off the bed with a grunt. Darling started licking her paws, feigning disinterest. I bent to pick her up, but at that exact moment she leaped and ran across the room like a scalded cat. I chased her, but she hid under the bed. “Of all the blasted rooms in this blasted apartment, why the deuce did you choose this one?” I called after her, but she ignored me. I couldn’t reach her, and calling her was no use. I looked up at Jeeves imploringly.
“No,” he shook his head, “I couldn’t even if I wanted.”
“But Jeeves…” I whined.
He was already getting dressed. “I’m sorry, my dear.”
FILL: Jeeves and the cat, PART ONE
Well, Jeeves is one of those irresistible things. More specifically, Jeeves in late June, climbing out of a refreshing bath, a towel wrapped around his waist. I watched him as he closed the bathroom door and entered his bedroom, where he leaned against the window to smoke a gasper.
“Now Bertram”, you might say, “is this behaviour worthy of the preux chevalier that you claim to be?”
But you must understand that the young master was not spying on his valet. I would never trespass in this manner; no, none of that from this Wooster. However – and here we come back to that irresistible pull business – yielding to his urges is perhaps the only crime of which the y. m. was guilty. You see, although still my gentleman’s gentleman, Jeeves had also become my fellow; my beau. And I was desperately in love with him – one cannot blame a chappie for acting upon love, can one?
So there I was, peering through the slit in the half-open door to Jeeves’ bedroom. Desire was rising in me at the sight of his naked back, his wet hair, the cigarette he brought to his lips, the soft sigh of contentment that escaped him when a light breeze struck…
And then a small smile appeared at the corner of his beautiful mouth. “Sir, I really must protest.”
Startled, I tripped on my own bally feet and stumbled into the bedroom. “I – I beg your pardon?” I stammered.
Jeeves put out his cigarette and turned to face me. I instantly recognized the playful, hungry look on his face; it made the heart flutter and the nether regions stiffen. He took a step towards me. “You are taking advantage of me, sir, and I cannot allow it.”
“I say, there must be some sort of misunderstanding,” I batted my eyelashes at him with false innocence.
“I think not, sir. You have violated my privacy.”
“Oh, Jeeves,” I moaned outrageously, “is there anything I can do to redeem myself?”
I noticed, with no small amount of pride, that a bulge now tented the front of his towel. He reached out and traced my lips with his thumb. “There might be…”
I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. What happened next was rather unmentionable, but I shall mention it all the same: after a fiery exchange of kisses and caresses, he undressed me, laid me down on the bed and let his towel fall to the floor. More kissing, more caressing, and then he threw my legs onto his shoulders and took me. It was all absolutely blissful, until –
“Darling!” Jeeves cried, his heavenly thrusts coming to a regrettable stop.
I looked up at him. “Yes, dear?”
“No. I mean the cat.”
I followed Jeeves’ gaze to the bedroom door, where our new cat – who is called “Darling”, but that is another story – sat watching us. I was quite annoyed with this interruption, I’m sure you understand. I tried to shoo her, but she wouldn’t move. Jeeves had gone quiet.
“Never mind her, she’s just a cat, what?” I tried to reason, but Jeeves only looked at me with horror. “Alright, alright,” I sighed, “She’ll leave in a minute, I’m sure.”
But she did not. Jeeves rolled off of me and covered himself with his towel.
“Jeeves! Come back here!” I exclaimed.
“Not while she is watching!” he protested.
I got off the bed with a grunt. Darling started licking her paws, feigning disinterest. I bent to pick her up, but at that exact moment she leaped and ran across the room like a scalded cat. I chased her, but she hid under the bed. “Of all the blasted rooms in this blasted apartment, why the deuce did you choose this one?” I called after her, but she ignored me. I couldn’t reach her, and calling her was no use. I looked up at Jeeves imploringly.
“No,” he shook his head, “I couldn’t even if I wanted.”
“But Jeeves…” I whined.
He was already getting dressed. “I’m sorry, my dear.”