Between the Lines

I just want to thank everyone for the extremely kind comments the first episode of this story received; and special thanks to Gale82 who persuaded me that I was capable of writing a story for grown-ups! This part goes in a slightly different direction, so I hope you won't be disappointed.

3.

The flesh beneath my fingertips was warm, soft and yielding; and it bore a faint coating of perspiration that glistened in the flickering light from the scented candles on the bedside table.

"Yes... just there!" the unusually husky voice whispered as I found what she claimed was an aching muscle near her shoulder blade; and then she followed it with a soft "mmm..." as I gently pressed my thumb to it and began to make small, circular movements; "Yeah... that's good... that's really good!" she murmured, while I was discovering that the apparent softness covered the well-toned, firm body of someone who clearly worked at keeping in such amazingly good shape.

"Oh, yes... that's nice. Don't stop," she purred.

I know I had a silly grin on my face, but I really didn't care because there was no one to see it. There was only me and my perfect goddess of love in the room and, at the moment, she was lying face down on the large bed; her red-brown tresses had tumbled down across her face, hiding it from my view as they provided a vivid, colourful contrast to the whiteness of the sheets and pillows.

Propped up on my left elbow while my right hand continued to deal with her 'slight ache,' I allowed my gaze to slowly traverse the magnificent, pale body that lay beside me. The nape of her long, elegant neck was visible between the waves of hair where I had been caressing it only a few moments earlier, amazed that such a slender and delicate structure could disguise the strength and power revealed during our lovemaking. Her arms, being stretched out above her head, emphasised the smoothness of the skin on her back; highlighted the well-toned, but not over-developed, muscle structure, and made it possible to observe all the sections of her spine -- all the way down to the gentle vale of her lumbar curve which, in its turn, accentuated the flowing lines of the pale twin uplands that rose beyond it.

Without really being aware of what I was doing, I stopped the massage and allowed my fingers to begin taking a walk in that direction.

"If you're heading south," she said dreamily, "keep clear of the outlet. It's private property!"

"I was more concerned with wandering through the wet bush," I replied, but then she rolled onto her side to look at me, sweeping the hair away from her face so I could see her winning smile.

"Steady, tiger!" she growled, "We need to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning. I really think we should get some rest."

"Hmmm... okay," I conceded, trying not to look too longingly at her enticing breasts. I'd already decided that they were fractionally smaller than I'd initially thought; probably a C-cup, but only just. It was their firmness that gave the impression of greater size.

"You've probably got a few questions..." she began.

"Hell! Not more than a million!" I interrupted, but she went on, barely managing to stifle a yawn:

"...So I'll try to answer the important ones in the morning. Is there anything you want to do before lunch?"

The Marx Brothers answer, 'Eat breakfast!' flashed through my mind, but by that time I'd already raised my eyebrows to reveal my true thoughts and she smiled; "Apart from that!"

I was about to make another retort but she pressed a finger to my lips and insisted: "Say 'goodnight,' Jack."

"Goodnight, Jack," I murmured, (I'm also a fan of Burns & Allen routines), but I finally took the hint and turned away so the sight of her naked body wouldn't be filling my head with wicked ideas. Well, not quite so much, anyway! The last thing I recall was her saying that 'this' was really important to her. My ego wanted to believe that she meant having me in bed with her, but my practical and more realistic side was sure that she really meant the script and the possibility of a new career.

A few moments later she snuggled up, slid her arm around me, and left it to lie gently over my waist. Between that, and the feel of her breasts pressing against my back, I was convinced that sleep would be pretty much impossible; but it wasn't. The next thing I remember was being woken by severe bladder pressure.

The candles had long burnt out so it was still dark in the room, but there was a glow from beneath the bathroom door where the light had been left on -- a thoughtful touch -- and I was able to gather up the used condom for disposal (even people with servants have to do some things for themselves!), as I made my way safely across the deep pile of the carpet.

Like everything else I'd seen in the house so far, the bathroom was large and luxurious. I'm not the kind of person who can tell the difference between fake and real stuff, but I'd bet that I was looking at real marble, real gold-plate on the fittings and, when the colour of the towels (Egyptian cotton according to the labels), blends so perfectly with everything else, you just know that a lot of money has been used to design everything. As someone who normally stayed in the kind of hotels where you were lucky if the toilet bowl's just had its annual clean-up, I was definitely impressed. There was even a bidet -- something I hadn't seen for a long time - and I was tempted to make use of it just because I could! In the end, though, I just grabbed a very quick shower before returning to the bedroom.

Penny was still sleeping but, due to the warmth of the room, she'd pushed the covers away from the top half of her body and I was treated to the kind of sight that every man with red blood in his veins would love to wake up to in the morning. I really did think of just slipping back into bed and nodding off for a little while longer -- it was a thought that lasted for about a tenth of a second, probably -- then I put my head beneath the covers as I carefully climbed onto the bottom of the large bed, found the warm flesh of her foot, and introduced it to my lips.

That was nearly a very bad move. The contact made her leg twitch and I came close to losing a tooth, so I took hold of the foot before I kissed it a second time.

Languidly massaging the sole with my thumbs, I began to take her toes into my mouth, sucking each of them in turn before gently licking across the creases on the underside. My reward was to hear a muffled murmur that was definitely more appreciation than complaint and then, as I went to move my caresses a little further up, a sleepy voice said; "There's two of them, you know!"

Smiling, and feeling good, I found her other foot and repeated the performance. I was determined not to hurry because, in all honesty, I'd been a little bit embarrassed by my performance the night before. The excitement and the unexpectedness of it all had made me so anxious that my efforts at foreplay had been far too impatient and perfunctory. In my defence, I hadn't been with any woman for more than six months -- and I couldn't recall ever being with one as lovely as Penny - so that, although she'd appeared to enjoy it, I was pretty sure that my eventual three or four minutes of barely controlled thrusting hadn't done a great deal for her.

So I took my time. I kissed and massaged her calves, paid plenty of attention to the sensitive area behind her knees and, by the time I'd kissed and licked my way up each of her magnificent thighs, the dividend from my investment was found in the way she drew her legs up and spread them invitingly wide. Although I was unable to see much in the darkness, there were two things that my other senses noticed immediately -- both of which were good. The first was that the smell -- the same fragrance I'd noticed in the bathroom -- told me that she'd 'cleaned up' since our coupling.

I've talked to guys who love the opposite -- to be greeted by the remains of a previous sexual activity -- but that's never appealed to me. Somehow, it always reminds me of trying to prise open a toasted cheese sandwich. I definitely prefer clean.

The other thing that pleased me was that her pubic hair, although trimmed at the edges, was full and luscious. It's something I have a thing about -- for health reasons. Removing pubic hair -- no matter what method is used - irritates and inflames the hair follicles left behind and leaves microscopic open wounds. When that's combined with the warm moist environment, it becomes a perfect culture medium for some very bad bacterial pathogens; Group A Streptococcus and Staphylococcus aureus.

Nasty! Each to their own -- but I'm happier with 'natural.'

I've never understood men who do this reluctantly or 'because she expects it.' I do it because I love it! I love the taste of those feminine fluids and I love the slightly musky smell: I also love the sense of power it awards me because, as my partner becomes more aroused, I can decide how fast or slow I wish to proceed; I can decide how much pressure to use and which part of that fascinating body part to pay most attention to, and when! It involves all my senses; the taste and smell, the feel of the responses in the slight tics and twitches of muscles, the sound of the little gasps and moans and the sight of the most beautiful thing that creation ever produced. Therefore, although I've never made any claims to being well-endowed, nor to being a fantastic lover, I knew that I was more than capable of being able to please Penny once she allowed access to my lips, my tongue and my teeth.

And so it proved. Even before my lips had found and fastened on her clitoris and begun to suck gently on that delightful bud, her hands were on my head trying to press me closer and her hips were rising off the bed in anxious, jerking thrusts. Before long, her cries for release were ascending to a level of near desperation and my response was to slow down for a second or two, just long enough to draw out a groan of despair and frustration. I managed to wait for a few seconds, just licking along the whole length of each labium in turn and then, when I could feel impatience in the movement of her hips, I carefully slid two fingers inside her, drew her clitoris into my mouth and flicked the tip of my tongue over it fiercely, again and again.

It made her screech with rapture; her thighs automatically clamped tightly against either side of my head and I felt the powerful muscles in them begin to quiver uncontrollably. A second later I heard her shout something that was utterly incomprehensible, but her pelvis was suddenly thrust towards me so fiercely that it almost flattened my nose and then, taking me completely by surprise, a torrent of hot fluid splattered my face, instantly followed by another and another!

It gushed into my mouth, surged into my nostrils and sprayed onto my eyes and cheeks as I vaguely heard a series of animal-like grunts and groans turn into a long wail of uncontrolled release.

I've always believed that you don't stop when you're winning, so I carried on with what I was doing -- only this time more fiercely than ever. And I was ready for the deluge when it came again, keeping my lips together and easing off slightly -- enough to hear that the wailing and screeching had now become a mere whimper and a gasping "Please... please!"

At the same time, the pressure from her thighs evaporated and her hands were on either side of my head to try to draw me up and away from the pleasure grounds I'd enjoyed tormenting, and I quickly began to climb upwards over her recumbent and helpless form.

It was one of the very few times in my life when I needed no assistance from hands to find my mark. My cock was aching and throbbing from the vigour of my erection and, without any hesitation, it slid smoothly and firmly into the exquisite captivity of her warm and soaking tunnel which, despite everything, seemed to seize me tightly.

There was no finesse and no delicacy about what followed. There was no thought, no conscience and no consideration; it was just hard and near-brutal fucking. Penny's mouth kissed my lips and my face with what appeared to be desperation as she enclosed me in her arms then hooked her ankles behind my knees -- her whole body responding to every thrust and seeming to urge a ravishment I'd never dared to try with anyone else.

How long it lasted, I can't possibly guess. Certainly, it went on long enough for her to experience yet another of those insanely erupting orgasms that warmed and soaked my groin while she buried her face into my shoulder, trying to stifle the high-pitched squeals and screams that might otherwise have brought a pitchforks-and-blazing-torches rescue party from the nearest village! And then, moments later, my own climax seemed to shudder through my entire body, making me twitch and convulse and jerk as if I was wired in to an electricity sub-station -- and that seemed to go and on, as if every part of me was flowing into the beautiful body that I was so gloriously attached to.

When the spasms finally faded and died, I was unable to move -- and it seemed that Penny was the same. Although I still managed to support my weight on my arms, I didn't have the strength to manage anything else, and as long as her arms and legs clung to me I didn't have any desire to, either.

Later, much later, she would tell me that she'd tried to call out a warning before she'd climaxed over my face -- and I'd make her laugh by saying that it wasn't much use doing that when my ears were so effectively covered! I'd also find teeth marks in my shoulder -- which had actually drawn a little blood -- when she buried her face there during our lovemaking but, hey, every good soldier has a few battle scars!

But that was all for later. At that moment we'd exhausted ourselves. We were both drained and contented so that, when I finally managed to roll away from her, we embraced gently and fell asleep very quickly.

*

4.

"Come on, you lazy so-and-so! It's time to get up," was followed by a wet towel landing gently on my face. This wasn't fair -- certainly not compared to the way I'd woken her earlier!

"You can't be this mean to me," I moaned, "We're not even married!"

"Come on!" she said, "It's almost nine o'clock! You need a shower and a shave -- and I've asked Mason to have breakfast ready in half an hour."

"Oh... right, well we wouldn't want to upset the staff, would we?" I grumbled. Then I opened my eyes, blinked hard against the bright daylight, and watched her fasten her bra as she stood at the foot of the bed. She had already donned a matching pair of plum-coloured pants and I couldn't help but feel that I may have missed something.

"Come on, Grouch!" she ordered as she went over to sit at the dressing table and switched on the hair-drier. "Not exactly a 'morning person,' are you?"

Now that, I thought, given the events of a couple of hours earlier, was definitely unfair. Anyway, if she'd bothered to check, the small tent in the bedclothes would have contradicted her. Sighing, I threw the covers aside, grinned as I spotted the stain of a very large damp patch on the sheet and, in the hope of looking impressive, sucked in my stomach and strode towards the bathroom.

"You know, Jack," she said, switching off the drier for a moment, "there's nothing funnier than a naked man trying to look dignified -- especially when he seems to be following his own erection!"

It's difficult to follow that.

I mean, before I closed the door behind me, I did manage, "Have you just learnt that... or was it something you already knew?" But it was a feeble response, and I was still naked when I came out of the bathroom. By that time she was dressed and, although I could hardly detect it, had her make up on as she handed me the suit to try on.

It was a mid-blue pinstripe that fitted almost perfectly, even though it was a bespoke item from a Savile Row tailor. Add the shirt and the tie and I reckoned there wouldn't be much change from a thousand pounds. It made me feel a bit of a fraud - even my best stage outfit cost less than half of that -- but I thought it wouldn't be hard to get used to.

Penny, of course, looked delicious -- but also very business-like in her dark navy skirt suit with a white blouse fastened all the way up. The label on the lining of the jacket said 'Bluesuits NYC' and it looked smart and expensive, while the black court shoes complimented the look perfectly.

When we walked into the dining room (big enough for ballroom dancing - with a full orchestra!), I began to feel a bit edgy. No, that isn't true -- I felt thoroughly intimidated. Everything was on a far grander -- and much more orderly -- scale than I'd ever been used to. Then there was Mason; totally poker-faced as he served up the food, but I couldn't help wondering what private thoughts occupied his mind about the man 'Miss Pendlebury' had brought home, slept with, and dressed in one of her father's very expensive suits. I'd thought him to be young when I'd first met him, but I could now see that he was probably closer to my age and Penny had told me that he and his wife ran the estate.

"He glares at people he doesn't approve of," she'd said, "and since he hasn't done that you, I guess it means he likes you." I wasn't convinced.

If you want a heart attack, try having a full English breakfast every day. Mason served us fried eggs, bacon, sausages, tomatoes, mushrooms, fried bread and baked beans -- all washed down with cups of tea; and by the time we'd finished I wasn't really expecting the suit to fit any more. We adjourned to the same study we'd gone to the night before because Penny told me that smoking wasn't allowed in the dining room, and left Mason to clear up after us. I did offer to give a hand with the washing-up, which made Penny giggle and even drew a big smile from Mason.

Once we'd settled down, Penny let me know that this was the opportunity to ask her whatever questions I had. I lit a cigarette, and started with what seemed to be the most obvious one.

"Why me?" I asked, but that seemed to take her unawares.

"Why you... what?" she responded.

"Why pick me to help with the script? And why take me into your bed?" I explained, taking another drag of the cigarette and trying to look reasonably cool.

"Okay," she answered slowly, "the first part is straightforward. Dee and myself have seen a lot of comedians while we've been doing our act in the clubs... but only two or three seemed to have any originality. There was another guy named Jack...."

"Jack Meoff?" I said, probably looking a bit surprised.

"That's the one," she confirmed, "but Dee said that he only ever did sex jokes, both on and off stage and... and, well, she said he was a real lecher. I don't think I could've worked with him.

"And there was an older guy -- I can't remember his name at the moment -- he might have been alright, but apparently he's doing well on the cruise ships at the moment. Anyway... you were always the first choice. I realise I hadn't got to know you very much... but Dee was always the one who did the talking for us and she told me that you were intelligent, easy-going and genuinely funny."

"I had her fooled then!" I said, stubbing out the cigarette in an ashtray. "Okay... so what about the second part of the question?"

"Do you seriously expect me to answer that?" she asked, and I swear there was far more colour in her cheeks than there normally was. But when I just stared at her with an expressionless face, she took a deep breath and said; "Alright... two reasons. Firstly, I find you attractive... you're good fun to be with, Jack and that counts for a lot in my book. I don't mean that I've fallen in love with you... whatever that means... but I do like you a lot. And secondly, if this thing works out, we're going to be spending a lot of time together. It was that thing you said about needing some 'sexual tension' in the script that set me thinking. It gave me a bit of a shock, to be honest, because I suddenly realised that there'd be exactly that between us... and it was probably better to deal with it from the start. Does that bother you?"