The Vanderlay Party

The party was intolerable.

Jewels and glassware glittered under the soft light of giant chandeliers, and the strains of classical music issued from strategically placed and carefully hidden speakers. Selina Sommers, clutching a tall flute of something white and sparkly, polite smile pasted on her peach-painted lips, thought she would go out of her mind if she didn't get out of there soon.

The celebration of financial success for senior executives and other important personages was the annual envy of the industry. As the publishing world's newest rising star, Selina had been thrilled to receive an invite to Mr Vandelay's party.

However, after enduring several hours of a painfully formal dinner, the endless boring speeches full of self-congratulatory nonsense, and the interminable prattle of intellectually arid but influentially rich people, Selina's veneer of perpetual delight was beginning to show signs of wear.

A group of fat, boisterous politicians, too-loudly admiring the derriere of one of the young waitresses, provided enough of a cover and Selina took the opportunity provided and slipped out through a side door without attracting notice.

The mansion, one of the country's oldest and most grand, was settled on a large estate and the grounds were enormous. An ornamental rose garden bordered the sweeping front lawn, and there were pools, tennis courts, shrubberies and forest walks everywhere else.

Selina breathed in the fresh, cool night air, and headed down a gravel path bordered with rockeries and native ferns. The noise of the guests' chatter died away behind her, and her shoulders relaxed in relief. In her deep purple gown she melded with the shadows, and the fresh breeze cooled her hot face. Presently she came to a small man-made lake, fringed by ferns and trees. Ducks moved restlessly as they heard her approach.

Selina stopped here and leaned against a cabbage tree, watching the ducks splash their feathers in the moon-jewelled water, listening to the trickle of a little waterfall cascading from some rocks to the west. The tranquillity of the scene and its contrast to the cacophony back at the house touched her sensitive soul, and Selina sighed. She closed her eyes and laid her cheek against the tree's rough bark, and let an errant tear slip down to fall on her bared shoulder.

"Ahem."

A voice cleared its throat softly, and Selina started, scratching her cheek as she did so. "Oh!" she gasped, looking around for the source of the voice.

A man was seated on a rock by the lake's shore. He stood up now, and Selina could see that he was very tall, towering above her even in her stilettos.

"I'm sorry," he said apologetically, with a little shrug. His voice was rich and melodious. "I didn't want to startle you."

"No, it's okay," Selina said, feeling foolish. "I hadn't realised anyone was here."

"I hate those things," the man said, waving an arm in the direction of the house. "I tend to steer clear of them as often as I can."

"I'm Selina Sommers," she volunteered.

"Michael Vanderlay," he returned, extending his hand for her to shake.

Selina moved forward, but the heel of her shoe caught on a tree root and she pitched ungracefully forward.

Michael reached out to catch her, but the motion carried them both to the ground. The incline rolled them down towards the lake, and they stopped right on the edge, where the moist spongy grass arrested their motion.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" Michael said, concerned.

Selina lay on her back, looking up at the starry black sky, and burst into laughter. The ducks quacked in protest, affronted. Michael chuckled at her, and extended a hand to help her sit up. She took it gratefully.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said, at last able to speak.

Michael reached out to pull a twig from her hair, but it stuck fast in the elegant French knot. He pulled harder, and the clasp holding it all together sprang free. Blonde waves of hair cascaded over his hands. The moonlight shone through it and turned it to molten silver. He stilled himself and stared at it in his hands, enraptured.

Selina took this moment to really look at him for the first time. His eyes and hair were dark in a strong, sensual face. A small wet leaf was stuck to the side of his nose. Unthinkingly, Selina reached out to brush it away.

Michael closed his eyes as her fingers made contact with his face. He placed his hand over hers, holding it there. He opened his eyes again and looked at her. With her hair all wild and her eyes glinting with moisture and moonlight, shoulders bared in the strapless gown and skin glowing palely, he thought he had never seen anything so beautiful.

Selina was spellbound. Her fingers wrapped themselves around his digits of their own accord and she pulled him towards her, her mouth finding his as though drawn there by fate. His lips were soft and warm and he tasted like champagne. She breathed a little sigh at the heavenly contact and kissed him again, hungrily.

Michael twined his fingers in her hair as his tongue sought hers; deepening the kiss as he surrendered himself to the feeling. He felt his pants tighten uncomfortably as desire for her flared and the flames were fanned.

Selina's hands wound their way inside Michael's shirt, and she ran them over the soft springy hairs on his chest with wonder. They roamed lower. She could feel the hot hardness of him through his clothing, and she pressed herself up against his body.

Michael groaned against her mouth and reached at her back for the zipper of her gown. Yanking it down, the dress fell away from her and she kicked it aside. Her breasts swung free from their confines, round and full and soft and white, upturned pink nipples hardening instantly in the night air.

Michael pushed her back down onto the soft bed of mossy grass. His hands cupped her breasts and then his mouth followed the path his hands had led. His tongue played around her nipples and then he sucked hard, grazing them with his teeth.

Selina gasped, her hands tightening around his head as bolts of need shot through her. She moved restlessly, wriggling against him.

Michael's tongue travelled quickly downwards and over her navel. He grasped the waistband of her panties in both hands and yanked them down, impatiently burying his face in the warm, wet treasure he found there.

Selina cried out as his tongue plundered her hot, slippery flesh, her hips writhing madly as the waves of sensation washed over her. He sucked at her clitoris and she moaned, quivering, insane with her need. His tongue flicked in and out of the very heart of her, and she could take no more.

Grabbing Michael's head, Selina rolled and pinned him to the ground. Her hands ripped at the button of his fly, and she hauled his pants and boxers down and off without care. His penis stood before her proudly, freed from its cloth prison. Selina took him in her mouth and sucked him hard, exacting from him a strangled gasp. She was rough and she knew it, but she didn't care.

Michael nearly lost control, but reined himself in. He took Selina's hand and pulled her up towards him. In one fluid motion, he stood up, picked her up too, and pushed her up against a tree. He kissed her fiercely, and at that same moment, plunged himself deep into her core.

Selina abandoned all pretence of power. She wrapped her legs around him as he drove into her powerfully, over and over. Her eyes widened as she felt herself impaled by his huge, hard shaft, and she bucked her hips madly to meet him, taking every inch into herself as deeply as she could. Again and again he filled her, pounding her into the unyielding Silver Birch.

Selina's orgasm came upon her quickly, and she came violently. She threw back her head in ecstasy and screamed as every muscle in her body tensed and she was flooded with pure please and blissful release. Her vagina gushed forth its orgasmic fluid, flushing over Michael's engorged member and driving him wild with the sensation. He drove into her harder and harder, faster and faster, approaching the edge of his own apex.

Selina's muscles contracted around him again and again, and she cried out in panting sobs as her orgasm went on and on. Her nails raked across Michael's shoulders, leaving little half-moons that welled with blood. And with a final heroic thrust, he lost himself in her and spilled himself into her, crying out to her incoherently. At last sated, she and he fell to the ground together and lay, breathing heavily, cloaked in a blanket of stars.

It was some time before Selina recovered enough to move again. Every muscle in her body ached deliciously, and her back was covered in tiny scratches. She thought she had never felt more alive. Carefully she sat up and leaned over towards Michael. She kissed him tenderly, lingeringly, and reached for her dress.

Michael opened his mouth as if to speak, but Selina silenced him with her fingers against his lips. And she left him there, bathed in moonlight and their love, beside the settling ducks.