The House Party

Part 3. Into the Woods

Over breakfast, Whistler asked Maud "I heard some strange noises coming from your room last night. Did you have a nightmare or something?"

"Oh yes, Rex. It was awful. It seemed that, whenever I closed my eyes, I felt as if someone was repeatedly stabbing me. I couldn't settle until after one o'clock. And I feel so weary, it's as if I've been in a fight with Joe Louis."

She got up to help herself to some kedgeree, and Fleming joined her at the serving table, as Gilbert started talking to Whistler.

"To tell the truth, Ian, I can barely walk this morning. Both holes feel well-used and rather tender, so I doubt they'll be in use again for a day or two. But it was a glorious night, wasn't it?" The wicked smile on her face made him start to get hard again. This woman knew more about sex than anyone he knew, and it seemed she was always trying to learn more.

After breakfast, the weather was dull and threatened rain. Whistler took Ellen to the Music Room to help him with his decoration work. Maud and Anrep were busy discussing Boris's proposed mosaics for the National Gallery. Hill had set up his easel by the French windows and was busy with what Fleming felt was an uninspiring composition, while Gilbert snoozed in a chair. So Fleming headed to the library and settled down with the newspapers. It was depressing: the Germans and Italians were still bombing cities in Spain; the Dutch seemed to be supporting fascism, insulting Jewish refugees from Naziism and imprisoning a writer for offending Hitler; there were anti-Jewish riots in Poland; Mussolini was committing atrocities in Abyssinia, whose annexation Britain had - shamefully, Fleming felt - formally recognised earlier in the year. Even the cricket was depressing, with Bradman seemingly invincible. After an hour or two, he got up and went for a walk around the walled garden. The threatened rain finally appeared, so he headed back indoors for a scotch, a cigarette, and to jot down a few ideas he'd had about how to make Hitler's life more difficult.

At dinner, Maud had rearranged the seating so that Whistler was next to her, with Fleming seated next to young Ellen. While she talked a lot, the girl seemed to have little real conversation, but Fleming recognised all of the gestures. She played with a strand of her elegantly bobbed hair constantly, and bit her lip. Whenever she had the opportunity, she would touch his hand on the table, on some pretext or other. On the terrace after dinner, she stood closer to him than was strictly necessary and pretended to feel cold. He removed his jacket and hung it around her shoulders.

Whistler and Maud came by, and Rex struck up a conversation with Ellen about the stars, which he started to name for her. Maud asked Ian to light her cigarette, and as he leaned close, she whispered 'Why not?'

"Maud, what about you?" he replied softly.

"Out of bounds tonight, dear boy. Both entrances need rest and a lot of ointment. Boris is less than pleased, I can assure you. I may have to lend him a hand, as they say. But you, my boy, have opportunity and, I believe motive. All you need is the means, which I'm sure you can dream up."

"Maud, I really don't think you should be suggesting this."

"Nonsense my boy. She's as keen as mustard, and you're the condiment that will warm her up nicely."

And Maud was right. When Ellen announced that she would turn in for the night, Fleming offered to accompany her as far as her room to retrieve his jacket, and then turn in himself. At her door, he bent to kiss her goodnight, but instead of receiving his kiss on her cheek, she met him with her lips, throwing her arms around him so that his jacket fell off her slender shoulders onto the floor. The kiss was a little clumsy, but what it lacked in finesse, it made up for in passion.

When they finally broke, she apologised for dropping his jacket. He smiled and told her it was no trouble, but as he bent to pick it up she casually lifted the hem of her skirt up her thigh as far as her stocking top, before letting it fall back. Then she opened the door to her room, went in - but left the door open. Glancing along the hall to ensure he was not observed, he followed, closing the door softly behind him.

Despite her coquettish come-on, Ellen was very much the naïve young girl. She was clearly excited at the prospect of having some sort of physical relationship with the handsome ex-journalist. However, her inexperience was obvious. Fleming was gentle with her, carefully removing her dress and slip, and admiring her in her rather exotic - and for a girl like that, sophisticated - lingerie. She had a brassiere and matching knickers in black silk, and a lacy garter belt holding up her black silk stockings, apparently all acquired in Paris while her mama wasn't looking.

Fleming told her to help undress him, down to his underpants, and then he removed her brassiere and knickers. Initially, she shyly covered herself with her hands, but he moved these away, kissed her and caressed her skin gently with his fingers and lips, which made her tremble. His hand cupped gently over her soft, blonde bush, and an exploratory finger insinuated into the slit beneath showed that she was excited by the prospect of further penetration.

When he suggested they get onto the bed, to his surprise, young Ellen lay back, stretched her arms over her head and spread her long, stockinged legs wide, making an inverted Y, as if she expected him to fuck her without further ceremony. The sight was arousing, and Fleming was tempted to give her what she was expecting. Instead, he lay down beside her and started some preparatory caresses. As he swept his hands up the black silk of her stockings, he encountered the pale silk of her well-toned, dancer's thigh, and he found it smooth and entrancing.

As he explored the pink ellipse of her neat, moist vulva, she gasped and sighed. When he probed deeper, gauging her tightness, seeking a hymen to break, he found none.

"So Ellen, it seems you're not a virgin after all."

"Oh no. It was - a boy in Paris, in April. We did it twice. It was nice - at least the second time. But - but I was afraid he'd - he'd made me pregnant. Luckily, he didn't."

"No one since then?"

"No. I've - I've wanted to, but - but there wasn't the right man. Does that make me a - a slut?" She almost choked on the word.

"No, my dear, it doesn't. And don't worry - I won't make you pregnant."

He was almost put off by her naïvety, feeling a strong desire for Maud's knowing sensuality, guessing that all of the coaxing and teasing he would have to perform with Ellen might be tedious. But he was attracted by the girl's pert, firm breasts with their long, sensitive nipples, her silky pink quim, surrounded by its soft, flaxen curls, and her oh-so-smooth skin.

As he swirled his finger inside her, he dipped his head to taste her soft nether lips and, by now, copious juices. She writhed and bucked as he first traced intricate shapes with his tongue, then flattened it along her slit, lapping thirstily at her quim-cream. She climaxed very quickly, as she thrust her clitoris against his eager mouth. Fleming was amused by her sweet cries of 'Oh, Lord!' and 'Oh, Crikey!', which contrasted sharply with the language that he, Maud and Anrep had used the night before.

When her personal tempest had subsided, he maintained gentle stroking and licking of her various sensitive regions - her upper thighs, her breasts, her vulva, her neck and face - taking her down gently and bringing her back up. She seemed bemused and delighted by her climax, which, it appeared, had been her first, and entirely unexpected.

"But Mama says that only men reach climax, so that they can - can ejaculate their seed. Ladies just - just have to lie there and receive. It was nice - receiving it from Bernard in Paris, but - but he didn't make me feel like - like you just did."

"How old was Bernard?" Fleming asked.

"Nineteen, I think. A year older than me."

"Then your Bernard needs to learn some new tricks. And perhaps I can show you some before the night is through. Now, are you ready for me?"

She looked at him and nodded, a look of some trepidation on her sweet face. Fleming had continued to stimulate her quim, gently stroking around her inner lips and dipping his finger into her vagina to tease the sensitive areas at the front. She was very wet. Now, he stopped briefly, took a pillow and placed it, with Ellen's pert bottom on top, on the edge of the bed. He stood up and removed his silk underpants, and heard Ellen catch her breath.

The girl put her hands together in front of her pert ivory breasts, closed her eyes and intoned "For what I am about to receive, may the Lord make me truly thankful". She looked at him and giggled endearingly.

Fleming took up position between Ellen's open thighs and lined up the head of his penis, as Ellen watched in fascination, gasping as his member touched new, sensitive surfaces of her slippery quim. He began to push slowly into the tight hole, and she let out a plaintive little cry and threw her head back onto the mattress, her face screwing up. Her arms stretched again above her as her head moved from side to side and she bit her lip. Fleming, who by now desperately wanted to embed his entire cock inside this silly little girl, slowly edged back, then pushed again.

"Oh Lord! Ian, it feels - it feels so big! You're - you're stretching me. It - it hurts, Ian."

"Quiet, Ellen. Just relax. You do want me inside you, don't you? It seems to me you've been asking for this all night, so be still, open for me and take what's coming to you, there's a good girl." Fleming, rarely a patient man when it came to sex, was trying not to let his irritation show. He licked his thumb and began circling it around Ellen's open quim, taking care to avoid her clitoris at first, and she began to make more pleasure-filled noises.

Using a slow rocking motion, Fleming gradually gained headway. After Maud's tight arse last night, he was surprised to find another hole nearly as tight. Slowly, as he teased her vulva and placed his other hand over one of her pert breasts to tease a nipple, he gradually got her to relax and accept the fucking she was receiving.

And after nearly a minute, she was finally taking Fleming's full length, embedded deep inside her. He'd had to employ a slow dance of insertions and withdrawals, but he felt that the journey was worth it. She was virgin-tight - perhaps more so because of her dancer's training - and the next few strokes, as she relaxed sufficiently to allow him to move, but not sufficiently to lose that delicious grip, were sublime; so much so that he had to control himself so as not to climax immediately. He focused for a while just on her pleasure, closing in on her clitoris, pulling and teasing her nipples and trying to use the less-sensitive upper surface of his cock to stimulate the more-sensitive front wall of her vagina.

This approach began to have the desired effect on the girl, who started making noises of evident pleasure, and to rise to meet his thrusts. He increased the pace, fucking her a little more vigorously. He thought this might cause her to become nervous again, but instead, she lifted her feet behind his back and rode him in earnest, pressing with her heels to welcome him inside her.

It then became a race for who would reach orgasm first. Fleming was determined that it should be Ellen and focused on stimulating her clitoris and nipples. Ellen, it seemed, wanted nothing more than for Fleming to give her a vigorous fucking, and her tight little cunt was making Fleming's job harder as he sought to delay his own pleasure.

But finally, experience won out over youth, and Ellen started to moan as a second orgasm took her. Fleming felt the first contractions in her tight, wet cunt and knew he needed to act quickly. He pulled back just in time as a thick stream of semen spurted up her smooth, pale belly and as far as her breasts, followed by three more in quick succession.

This method of contraception was a mixed blessing to him. On the one hand, he had had the opportunity to sample the wet tightness of the girl's cunt with an immediacy of sensation impossible with a condom, but the pleasure of spending inside that tight, wet tube was denied him. It was a compromise, but one he was prepared to accept, given that he had just fucked a young, pretty and unexpectedly responsive girl with a deliciously tight cunt.

Ellen seemed delighted with her experience, though less so with the semen stains on her silk suspender belt. "It was that or deposit it inside you, my sweet," he explained as they lay on the bed, she cradled in his arms.

"I'll forgive you, dear Ian, if you promise to do that again when I'm not wearing stockings."

"Perhaps." He lit a cigarette, having offered her one, which she refused. "But you looked so enchanting like that, with your sweet little pink quim framed by the suspenders."

"Ian, don't be so crude!" she responded.

"Crude? My dear, I could have used some expressions that were much more explicit than that. You and I haven't just been to a debs' ball, you know. We've had some quite delicious and highly illicit sex, which we both seem to have enjoyed enormously. Your mama would not have approved one jot, but that didn't stop you from enticing me into your room - and into your delicious little body for that matter. So please don't be coy with me, Ellen. You knew what you were getting into - and what was getting into you. My cock found its way into your tight, wet little quim, and we both loved it, so please stop being offended if I describe it as it was."

Ellen looked a little hurt. "Ian, please. We made love. Isn't that a better way to describe it?"

"Ellen, my dear. I find you extremely pretty, and your 'nice but naughty' antics and your deliciously smooth and flexible young body make me want you awfully. But I regret to say that I don't love you. How can I? We met yesterday, and we barely know each other, except in the Biblical sense. Do you love me?"

"I - I don't know. I find you very attractive..."

"There! You see, this isn't love, my dear; it's just a superior kind of lust. And make no mistake, Ellen - you have made me lust after you, and I would very much like to know you better, both Biblically and socially. Perhaps, in time, this may develop into love, but in the meantime, I suspect we will both want to continue to enjoy exploring the more physical nature of our shared experience."

"If - if you say so." She seemed a little hurt. "But now that we've - done it all, what more is there to explore? I mean, obviously, I'd like to do it again, but..."

Fleming looked at her for a moment before falling back onto the pillow and bursting out laughing. "Oh Ellen, you are priceless! We've just started investigating the merest upper layers of snow on the tip of the iceberg, and you ask what more there is! If you're ready to experience more, I'm sure I can help you discover something novel."

And he did, finding her a surprisingly enthusiastic pupil. He introduced her to fellatio - she was initially repelled by the act, but, when pressed, complied without too much protest, though he decided not to spend his seed in her mouth - yet. He managed to hold back, allowing the sensations to subside, before fucking her energetically in a range of different positions. While thrusting his cock into her as she bent over a chair, he even tried a little mild spanking, which she seemed to enjoy. He decided to refrain from anything too extreme, like trying to sodomise the girl as he had with the willing - nay, demanding - Maud the night before, as that would be a little too much, too soon. However, he concluded that, given her adventurous nature, he might revisit that option at a later date. Instead, he contented himself with waiting for her orgasmic squeals and shudders to peak again before squirting his next load of semen into the crack of her pert little bottom.

For a sexual novice, Ellen seemed eager to learn fast and appeared to have boundless energy. By 2 AM, she had climaxed four times, and Fleming once more. He tried to leave her room, but she insisted that she spend the night in his arms. When he protested that they would be discovered the next morning, she said she would set her little travel alarm clock for a suitably early hour. As it was, he awoke around six with her mouth on his penis; clearly, she hadn't been too revolted by the act the night before. He called her a naughty girl, bent her over a stool and spanked her, and then (finding her wet) fucked her from behind with some clitoral play that made her climax again. Nearing orgasm himself, he pulled out, moved around and slipped his penis into her mouth. Unsuspecting, she sucked him for around 30 seconds before he ejaculated.

"Euch! Ian - that - that was horrible!" she spluttered, trying to spit out the thick spunk. She climbed to her feet and hurried to the washbasin to rinse her mouth out.

"I thought it was rather nice, actually", Fleming said, lying back on the bed and reaching for a cigarette. "You wanted to find out more about sex. Now you know what semen tastes like."

"It's nasty - like you, Ian Fleming! You shouldn't have done that!" She spat again into the washbasin, then grabbed her toothbrush and began brushing her teeth.

"You're making such a fuss, Ellen. You should simply swallow it. It's full of goodness." Fleming blew out a long stream of cigarette smoke. He looked at the time. "Anyway, I think I should get back to my room before we're discovered and your reputation is sullied. I have to admit that I'm looking forward to breakfast. Perhaps you're not, now I've already given you yours?"

Ellen grabbed a bar of soap from the washstand, turned and threw it at him. It struck him on the shoulder. "Swine!" she spat at him, spraying white teeth-cleaning foam.

Fleming looked at her and laughed. He got up and went over to the basin, put his arms around her and kissed her forehead. "Ellen, my sweet, everything we did - everything

you

did - was wonderful. You're a very special girl. Perhaps we can do some more together later. For now, I apologise if you objected to my spending in your mouth. I honestly didn't think you would find it that bad." He was about to add that Maud seemed to enjoy it, but thought better of the comment. "But for now, my pretty, it's best for appearances if we each emerge from our own rooms at different times."

She reached out for a water glass, swilled her mouth and spat into the basin.

"Charming!" he chuckled.

"Oh Ian, it was all so - so strange and - so exciting. I - didn't mean it when I called you a swine. It's just that..." Her voice trailed off, and she looked a little crestfallen.

"Let me guess, Ellen. You enjoyed what we did - all the naughtiness and the excitement - but now you feel guilty, and you're worried that I don't love you and I've just taken advantage of you."

"Well, a little bit, but..."

"Ellen, darling, you are so sweet. It's true, I don't love you - yet. But as I said, we only met yesterday, and we only got to know each other for the first time last night. I find you very attractive - in fact, much more than when I first set eyes on you - and I love your sweetness and your new-found naughtiness. I'd like to get to know you much better, and who knows where that might lead us?"

Fleming had used a similar line on other girls in the past. It promised the possibility of love, without the commitment, and allowed him to take advantage of a willing sex partner, eager to please him. And he genuinely liked the girl, but felt that she was too much of the ingénue to be a permanent fixture in his life. However, if she was to become a semi-permanent fixture on his cock, at least in the short term, then he'd be a happy man.