Nailing Neely Jordan - Part 4

24/06/10 23:12 GMT

Carlotta, let me explain.

Fucking roommate Jasmin was not part of the plan. Obviously. It just happened, spontaneously, explosively, as these things do with girls who don’t have Neely’s kind of scruples. And are inebriate.

I went around there spur-of-the-moment. I’d dealt superbly well, false modesty be fucked, with the aftermath of the birthday eating-out. I made all the right noises in my communications with Neely – concern just shy of penitence, barely controlled desire, I even expressed a willingness to try church again. It all seemed to be having a beautiful effect, in fact I’m damned sure it was, and in the name of letting the whole thing unfold organically I called on her unexpectedly. Single red rose, “just calling because I was thinking about you,” style of manoeuvre. It would have knocked her sideways, had she been in. And I would have saved it for another occasion had Jasmin not.

It was all perfectly innocent to begin with. The little slip of a thing invited me in, said Neely would be back soon from a church meeting. Or something. But she’d keep me company while I waited. Problem was, she had downed a substantial quantity of vodka and orange in preparation for going out clubbing, so I found her in a giddy and flirtatious state along with a crop-top and tiny skirt. Admittedly I drew out the flirtation (as much as I could without seeming like a complete dog). We were sitting in the kitchen having a drink and it was all “She’s so lucky to have you, Ray, well, kind of have you…”, with just a glimmer of a knowing smirk. To which I contributed that I was sure she wasn’t short of male attention when she went out nights, whereupon she informed me that she kept getting stuck with boys, when what she needed was a real grown-up man. One who knew what a girl wanted. Then she got back to how lucky Neely was to have a guy who was so attentive to her needs. I asserted that I tried to be good to Neely and Jasmin expressed sympathy regarding whether or not my needs were being met.

Okay, there was an air of simmering danger and I’m sure we both knew it – Jasmin was reading me rather better at that point than her housemate ever could - but it was all made fine by the knowledge that Neely was due to show up at any moment. And then came the text to Jasmin’s phone. Neely had gone for coffee with some people from church and wouldn’t be back so early and could Jasmin turn down the heat on the crock-pot. Or something. I just looked at her and there was one of those significant brooding moments. I mean this girl knew I wasn’t getting any from her friend and all the vibrations said she was pretty much in need of it herself. It was clear all her flirtation had only been semi-serious, but I knew instinctively if I went for it she was unlikely to refuse. Anyway, in that moment the risk just seemed worth taking.

Okay, be pissed at me, but it’s been fucking frustrating, Lotta, and… well Neely is wildly sexy, but this girl – it you’d seen her… Glossy jet-black hair, bendy little dancer’s body, she’s part-Thai, Filipino, not sure – at any rate she’s got that Far East I’m-so-sweet-come-fuck-me thing going and God, all I could think of was how good my cock would feel inside her tight little cooch. I know, I know, I should have thrown a fuck some other direction, but the moment just possessed me.

So I seized it and her. Grabbed her, kissed her hard. Pushed her up against the table and let her know how vastly swollen my cock was for her. A split-second’s resistance – not even resistance, vague moral reluctance – on her part, then she just grabbed back, hand clutching my ass, her skirt riding up so that her cunt was grinding against me. No pleasantries required, what a beautiful thing. Top ripped down, skirt ripped up to meet it, then plop her cute little ass onto the kitchen table and off with her panties in a single wrenching movement. Tear open flies, and cock just as ready as her sweet wet cunt-hole. Grab her legs, bend her over like a pretzel on that hard wood surface and ram my unrelieved dick as far inside her as it would go. A month of self-restraint – well fuck all that, the dating and the wooing and the caring nice-guy schtick, fuck it all if only for a few brief minutes. Let me just saw my reinforced cock all the way in and out of that clutching, wet girl-tunnel. Grip her thighs, press them down against her stomach and nail her on the kitchen table. Jesus. So FUCKING good.

“Oh God, we shouldn’t be doing this,” the traitor was moaning.

“Yeah, but we damn well are,” I pointed out through a grit-teethed snarl. “And you’re fucking loving it, aren't you?”

“Ohhh shit, I am…” she agreed in a piteous hard-fucked ecstasy.

“Well let me hear you ask for more,” I instructed her mid-thrust.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fucking give it to me…”

So I did, hard to the balls. More than that, I tore the clothes clean off her along with my own, flipped her around, put her on all fours there on the table, a lissom slippery caramel streak with her pussy-lips puffed and raw from the shafting she’d already received, that cute devious little face peering around to see when she was going to get some more. Already frigging herself into a frenzy and far beyond the workings of whatever negligible conscience she has. She couldn’t help it any more than I could. All these weeks angling to get inside Neely and there I was as though trying to sabotage the whole thing, banging her hot nasty little friend amongst the condiments. God, the sleek curve of her back as I gripped her shoulder and rammed it into her…unforgettable. This shit is what I do best. I just flung my cock back inside Neely’s wailing, ready-to-pop little bitch-pal – “Oh God, you’re so big, you’re so fucking big, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come…” – and pounded the shit out of that hot treat till I blew a ball-draining wad inside her. Couldn’t do anything else – I don’t have Neely’s God to restrain me. Do you know, all the time I was fucking her, sweet as it was, I was thinking how much ‘bigger’ I’d feel to a certain untested virgin pussy, and of the noises that virgin would make as she was done for the first time? I still don’t want to miss that opportunity, I assure you.

Anyway, it seems Jasmin and I both ‘came’ to our senses. She did look wildly hot crumpled on the table with my thick white ooze slithering out of her well-fucked cunt, groaning “Ohhh God, what have we done?” Truth be told it did all have a sense of wrongness-too-far, even for me. Like a sorry guilty mess to be cleared up. Which we did, pretty damn quickly once the orgasmic fever had died.

She was red-faced from more than sexual excitement afterwards. “We’ve done a bad thing here, Ray, a really bad thing.”

I played along with the penitence. It wasn’t difficult, the whole situation didn’t feel like my finest hour somehow. “I’m sorry,” I was telling her, “it just kind of happened…”

However she wasn’t entirely buying my routine. “Yeah? Well it probably happens a lot, doesn’t it, Ray? Only I shouldn’t have been a fucking part of it…” Then next she was virtually pushing me out of the door before I had a chance to get my shoes back on. “Just go,” she was telling me, all teary, “get out of here, let me clean up, take your fucking rose, she can’t know you were here... I’ve got to go and shower, I’ve got your smell all over me…”

I honestly don’t think she’ll say a thing, Lotta, she was way too mortified and desperate to cover our traces. I asked her on the way out and she said, “No, she mustn’t know about this, not ever,” her voice shaking. Oh yes, and then, “But you should break it off with her Ray, you should do it soon, you’re not who she thinks you are.” Little hypocrite.

So I think it’s all okay. I got my rocks off and Neely should be none-the-wiser. I mean, do we really have a problem here?

Ray

24/06/10 16:46 PST

Don’t ‘Lotta’ me, you son-of-a-bitch. Are you out of your fucking mind? God, what am I thinking? Whenever your dick takes over, that’s a super-loud ‘yes’. And don’t try and cover over your fuck-up with your tired story-telling routine. God it was so hot, I couldn’t help myself…Check how my normally perfect syntax has gone to shit, I’m so charged with animal energy… I ought to slap you, you idiot asshole! You’re supposed to be a wolf hunting down select prey, not a goddamn hyena scavenging somebody else’s sexual leftovers. Besides, we’d already discussed the issue – if you needed to drain your balls, you should have found someone safe. You want the Jasmin girl, at least wait till after you’ve fucked the Christian! Do we have a problem? he asks. Do we have a fucking problem? All this work and thought, all our planning, and you have the gall to ask me that…

Yes, Ray, I damn well think we have!

Just suppose that this little skank acts on the scary conscience she was displaying before you left. What if she decides she has to divulge your true colors to her roommate? Decides she can’t bear the thought of her virginal friend being preyed on by this opportunist bastard? Okay, so maybe she’s too guilty to admit she actually fucked you, so instead she just says you showed up and came on to her. Don’t you think she’s liable to do that next time Jesus’ little soldier is singing the praises of her lovely respectful new boyfriend?

Haven’t you thought this through at all??? Even if she says nothing right away – and you mightn’t even get that much grace – you’re on borrowed time, buster. You’d better seriously up your game or you’ll most definitely blow whatever limited chance you have left to nail the Jordan girl. And if you don’t nail her, well – all those delicious things I’ve got lined up for your cock will NEVER HAPPEN.

Right now you’re a serious disappointment. So fuck off and get some serious moves worked out. You can report back when you’ve got something worth telling. Oh, and Ray, I’ll damn well know if you lie to me.

* * * *

“Morning, Lord. Ehhh – thanks for today. Weather’s a bit dodgy, but – well – that makes us appreciate the nice days more, right? Thanks for… how well things are going at the church. For all the recruits we have on the homeless project and how well the outreach programme is going. All the new kids who’ve started to attend. And for the general upbeat mood around the place. Thanks for Jonas and all his support, especially on the forthcoming workshops. Nice to have an ally, you know, somebody who thinks the same way as me. And has an even worse sense of humour. Aaaand – yes, thanks for Pastor Simmons. I know his heart’s in the right place. In his chest cavity slightly to the left. No, I’m kidding, I love him, you know that. He’s got everyone’s best interests at heart and he loves you. So that’s all good.

“Thanks for the Lemongrass caf in all its deliciousness, especially for the new white chocolate-chip cheesecake, which rocks the entire joint. For Leo and Jasmin, my lovely decadent friends. Thank you for Ray…” Neely faltered momentarily in her regular morning God-chat. “Yes, thank you for Ray. That he wants to attend the church again. And for how he’s so nice and… and respectful to me…” Even when his tongue’s inside my pussy.

Now there was the trouble with believing you could talk to an omniscient higher power. You couldn’t edit out your sneakier thoughts. There was no internal monologue to be kept from one’s Maker. Neely tried again. “Thanks that even though there’s been a certain degree of…” rampant carnality “…misbehaviour between us, things are still under control.” Girl, you’ve been thinking about him licking you out for three whole nights! “Okay, well kind of under control. We’re behaving ourselves again. And it’ll be easier if he shows greater interest in things at Alton Bridge. I mean how great would it be if he came to faith?” It would be wonderful, but Neely get real… You just shouldn’t be dating him. You know it, God knows it… “Anyway, thanks for the whole show. I know I’m very lucky. And here’s praying for strength to do good service today. To be a good witness for Christ and…” not to think about doing rude naked things with Raymond Archer “…and that too. Amen.”

Neely finished lacing up her trainers. She checked the mirror and ran a brush through her luxuriant locks a few more times. Then she picked up her purse and her phone, in preparation to set out for work at the café. She paused to flip through the texts Ray had sent her the past few days, since the night he had made her birthday so memorable. There were two which stood out, two which kind of summed up the conflict in her mind. The one from two days ago, the very day after his tongue had gone a-flickering… WOULD IT SHOCK YOU IF I SAID I WANTED TO TRY CHURCH AGAIN? There certainly had been a shock element, a pleasant one which had made her heart race. Did he mean it? But then when did Ray say anything he didn’t mean? He had never tried to fool her with false professions of interest in embracing her faith. So his words here must mean something. She’d told him they’d talk about it next time they went out, i.e. tonight. Let him express what was on his mind more fully. Maybe Ray the sceptic wasn’t as impervious to Christian faith as his reactions had always suggested. Maybe respect for her Christian profession was gradually morphing into something more meaningful - interest in the claims and teaching of Jesus Christ for their own sake. Was it too fanciful to think that? Didn’t Neely have any real faith in the potency of her own beliefs to draw in someone else? Or was it just wishful thinking to justify the physical effect Ray had on her anytime he came close? Any time she thought of him?

Because there was the other text, wasn’t there? The one which had come apropos of nothing later the same day: YOU DRIVE ME CRAZY, BEAUTIFUL GIRL.

Wow, she did drive him crazy it seemed. That wasn’t arrogance. She could hear it in his breathiness every time he wished her goodnight. She could sense it in his body’s tension when he kissed her, in the way he gazed at her, as though with passion he could barely suppress. Lord, she could hardly miss it bulging unrelieved in the crotch of his jeans when they’d been making out, it had been fit to burst free three nights back when he’d finished making exquisite oral love to her pussy. (A little aching moan escaped from her restricted throat as she recalled, one more flashback added to hundreds, and each one a mini-burst of illicit delight.) He’d made her so excited, but there was a secret dark thrill that she excited him right back. That he wanted her, got huge and hard for her, that she was withholding something that despite all his professions of respect, he wanted. Badly.

For a moment the thought made her feel sexy and powerful, then guilt rushed in to drown that sense. Not just guilt at her sinful desires, guilt at playing with Ray in this way. Getting him all pumped up (oh heavens what a phrase) and then leaving him unsatisfied. Being a tease, however involuntarily. For Ray didn’t share her faith, not yet at any rate. He didn’t understand her reasons, however hard he tried, for abstaining from sexual pleasure. He had nothing internal to help him make sense of it. How cruel it seemed to treat him this way. She wished she could do something for him, wished she could make it better without… without sacrificing herself. Of course maybe she could…

Neely’s eyes strayed to the little bottles of scented oil, sniffed-at but unused on her dresser. She picked up the little card she had found within the packaging the morning after she had first opened the case and read it once more: Enjoy. If not in company, at least alone. Was her good boy teasing her a little? Inviting her? If so, surely he would have made her unwrap the present on her birthday evening. No, he’d just wanted to give her a sexy romantic gift for her birthday, show that he considered her a proper woman, not some shy repressed little girl. How she wished she could reward him… reward him using his own gift to her. But no, no – she so shouldn’t go there.

She grabbed for her Bible before going out – flipped through the New Testament for something to sustain her. Arrived at the opening to Jesus’ ‘Sermon on the Mount’, one of the passages most instrumental in her first embracing the Christian faith. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven. Then all those other blessed individuals – the meek, the merciful, the peacemakers, the pure in heart…

Neely was pure in heart, wasn’t she? Full of good motives and intentions. Trying to be helpful, doing the right thing by everyone, making the lives of people around her just a little bit better. Pure in mind, that was the problem. She was very far from that these days. Pure in heart not good enough, Lord? She feared it wasn’t. There was that bit later on in the Sermon about the sin of looking with desire on someone to whom you weren’t married. Although maybe that only applied if you were already married to someone else? No, it was no use going that direction, testing the elasticity of the Scriptures. The whole of the Bible underscored a within-marriage-only approach to human sexuality. And anything which threatened to undermine that was just playing loose with the rules.

Which meant she shouldn’t be setting the Good Book aside and replacing it with the Bad one – the one which had joined the Bible as a daily reading staple and had been stored guiltily for two days now under her bed. “I know you’re taking crafty reads at it,” Jasmin had told her, “so you might as well just keep it till you’re done.” So Odyssey of Lust was lurking where she could reach for it with such ease, morning or evening. She didn’t even have any time to spare before work, so why was she opening it and leafing to the page she had marked the previous night?

Just a few paragraphs…

Sapphire the globe-trotting slut, she recalled, had arrived in Bavaria, pursuing her apparent destiny to take inside herself cock of every possible nationality. The details returned from Neely’s hazy tired-out reading the previous night. The oft-fucked heroine had been preparing to room above the tavern in an Alpine village when she had fallen into conversation with a handsome duke and his glamorous partner, drinking spiced Franconia wine, before being persuaded to accompany them to their forest-enclosed mountain castle for the evening. Feeling under-dressed in their presence, Sapphire had been encouraged by Katrin, her beautiful hostess, to bathe and change into the sheer white dress supplied her. It was only towards the end of her meal at the couple’s huge dining-table, surrounded by leering family portraits and stags’ heads, that Sapphire realised the occasion had an ulterior purpose…

“Excuse me,” said Sapphire with hesitation, not wishing to appear rude. “There don’t appear to be any spoons for the dessert.” The huge slice of delicious Kirschtorte sat before her, making her mouth water.

“Ve vill not be using spoons,” her debonair host explained, rising from his seat and strolling towards her with nonchalance. “In fact, my beautiful dear, ve vill not be using any plates eezer.” Here we go, thought Neely, but anticipation trumped all sense of irony.

Sapphire looked confused. (No change there.) “Then how will we…?” she began.

“Ve vill observe a custom established by myself in zis castle some years ago,” the Duke explained, removing his jacket. “You see each summer I select a lovely young voman like yourself, someone who is travelling through zis part of our vunderful Bavaria on a journey of self-discovery. I select very carefully with ze help of my loyal housekeeper here.”

“Your housekeeper?” Sapphire stared in confusion at the blonde-haired Katrin. “But I thought you were married!”

“No, Katrin is not my vife.” The Duke threw the jacket casually onto one of the high-baked oaken chairs, flipped aside his suspenders and began to undo his shirt, revealing a powerful dark-haired chest. “I am indebted to her for running zis ancient castle vis supreme efficiency and in helping me pursue my… indulgences.” He licked his lips in a way that made Sapphire shudder with fear and excitement. Did seducers literally lick their lips? wondered Neely. No matter. “She also shares in many of my preferences and plays a part in all of my games.”

“Games?” Sapphire realised with a shock that Katrin was removing her dress and stripping down to blue-silk lingerie that enhanced her well-preserved and robust figure.

“Yes, games,” said the Duke, now stripped to the waist, “and Katrin always helps me choose ze perfect girl vis whom to play. In zis case, you.” Sapphire gulped and looked around wondering if she could run. But where would she run to? “And do you know vy you are perfect, Sapphire?”

“No,” she replied with a quavering voice, as both the Duke and Katrin closed in on her where she sat.

“Because I know you seek out carnal pleasure vereffer you go. You ver seeking it tonight.”

“No, you’re wrong,” insisted Sapphire. “I’m just on vacation, I wanted to see the mountains and the castles.”

“Your mind may not know you are seeking it,” said the Duke, “but your body craves it. I knew zis as soon as ve spoke. I haff a sense for your heat.” Sapphire felt Katrin’s slim smooth hands on her shoulders, as the woman unclasped the back of her halter-dress. The Duke tore the dress down suddenly, making her gasp at having so much skin exposed. “Tell me, Sapphire, as you travel ze vurld, do you not find yourself surrounded by strong attractive men who want to enjoy ze delights of your flesh? Tell me, Sapphire.”

“Y-Yes, I suppose I do,” she stammered, as Katrin undid her brassiere at the back.

“And do you try to avoid zees men’s advances, or do you find yourself giffing up your body to zer depraved lusts? Tell me!” His hands lingered on the lacy cups of her bra.

“I give myself up to them!” she said breathily, her heart racing and her pussy moist.

“Und vy do you do zat, Sapphire?” he demanded. “Tell me vy!”

“Because… Because I love to!” she moaned, fearful of her own confession. “Because I enjoy it!” Neely heard herself gasp aloud. She was more affected by silly Sapphire’s confession than she wanted to be.

“Of course you do!” the Duke cried in victory, as he ripped the brassiere away from Sapphire’s quivering breasts. “Vell here, my darlink, you vill have all your desires satisfied. I vill keep you here till you haff serviced all my needs and zos of my guests. And in acting as slave to our lusts, my beautiful Sapphire, you vill discover the true depths of your own sexual depravity!” He groped her full breasts, his face full of delirious glee. “Know vat you are! Do not deny it any longer! A creature of lust and vild sexual passion. Submit yourself to your cravings. Katrin, it is time for dessert!”

As Sapphire gasped, Duke Ralph scooped the Kirschtorte from her plate with his hand and smashed the entire mess of chocolate cake, butter-filling, cherries and whipped cream all over her naked tits. He smoothed the mixture thickly all around, smearing her globes with ruined dessert. Then he and Katrin both leaped on her and ate ravenously, licking cake, cream and sticky cherry-sauce from her bosoms, slavering their tongues all around her and sucking hard on her erect nipples till she squealed in fear and ecstasy. Katrin continued to feast off her boobs, while the Duke seized her dress and tore it from her body, ripping her panties away from her loins as well. As Sapphire lay helpless in her dining-chair, he parted her legs and smeared some of the remaining cake debris all over her wet cunt.

“Don’t vorry,” he told Sapphire. “I vill make sure you do not miss out on dessert. You can guess from ver you vill lick it. But first I must enjoy mine.” With that, he pulled her thighs further apart, shoved his face between them and thrust his tongue deep inside her sticky, dripping…

No more! Neely slapped the book shut, flush-faced, memory flooding her conscious mind even as her pussy did the same to her freshly-worn knickers. Gosh, Ray hadn’t even required liqueur-soaked cream-cake to sweeten the experience. Till now she had felt a safe distance from the gorgeous Sapphire, whose sexual encounters were as risible as they were hot. But the idea that the daft heroine was carried into each misadventure by an undercurrent of desire rather than simple stupidity sat uncomfortably with her. Neely did not want to share too much with the jet-setting bimbo. She did not want to acknowledge a similar primal force at work within them both. The one which kept her reading every night, fusing Sapphire’s encounters ever more with thoughts of Ray, his muscular strength and his tongue. Which had made her accompany the reading and the thinking these past three nights with the vibrator’s buzz on her clitoris. Which had woken her the night just gone in a fevered sweat, mumbling – she had caught herself doing it – “Make love to me Ray, I want it, I want it, I want you to f – f - … to f - …”

No… “NO!” Neely shook the thought, hid the book and changed her knickers. Head together, girl. You’re being tested, that’s all. You’ll get a handle on all this. Okay, you’re already cutting work fine. On with the day. Do stuff. Keep busy…

She wondered why Jasmin had not knocked already on her door But of her friend there was neither sight nor sound. Had she gone ahead? Neely tapped on her roommate’s door and peered inside. “Jaz? You not up yet?” She received an inarticulate groan from under a duvet in response. “You okay, sweetie?”

Jasmin peered mournfully above the covers. Her eyes looked heavy, her face grim. “Neely, I’m not going in. I feel dreadful. I’ve already phoned Annabel to explain, she’s got someone else to cover. If anyone asks, I’ve got flu…”

“Is that Russian flu?” Neely arched an amused eyebrow. “Vladivar-induced?”

“Something like that,” moaned a feeble voice.

“But you didn’t even go out last night,” said Neely, curious. “Did the girls come around here? Did I miss the party?”

“No, no, you didn’t miss anything. Really. No one here. Just me.”

“Drinking alone, you warned me about that once,” said Neely. “Hang on, let me get you something…” She ran to the kitchen and fetched a glass of water and some Paracetemol tablets, setting them on her friend’s bedside table. “There you go, babe. Sleep it off and I’ll see you later.”

Jasmin resurfaced and stared balefully at Neely. “Thanks,” she croaked in misery. “You’re a good friend, Neely. Way too good.”

Neely kissed her on the forehead and gave her arm a squeeze. “I’ll remind you of that next time I need a shift covered. Get rested.”

“Neely, I… I…” Neely looked closer and thought she recognised something in Jasmin, some sadness, that couldn’t simply be put down to alcoholic excess.

“What is it, Jaz? Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s… I…” It was like the girl’s soul, not her body, was struggling to purge itself of something pent-up.

“Yes? It’s okay, you can tell me.” Neely’s concern grew and her hand lingered on her friend’s arm.

“It’s… It’s… nothing,” said Jasmin, as though defeated in her attempt. “Just my stupid life, is all. Go on, get to work. Don’t be late. I’ll be fine.”

What’s got into her? pondered Neely, having finally torn herself away from the invalid. But she forgot Jasmin’s personality-glitch as her own clouds of moral confusion returned, hovering close above her all the way to the cafe. She threw herself into work, chattering to customers almost crazily to distract herself from a swarm of thoughts which buzzed like her new toy. She was just thankful Leo didn’t ask about the birthday gift. Her other job, her real job was haunting her as well, chiefly the planned lunchtime meet with Jonas. What a frame of mind with which to be finalizing Sunday week’s opening workshop in the ‘sexual ethics’ series. How could she approach the conversation with any sense of integrity?

By the time she arrived at The Ship, Jonas’ favourite pub by the habour, she had turned it all around in her mind. This wasn’t a gauntlet to be run, it was a God-sent opportunity – to reinforce her values, to gain strength in solidarity with her partner-in-the-faith.

“Neelers! Club sandwich and a pint of Carlsberg. Your shout.” She smiled broadly on seeing his familiar rather laddish grin and gel-spiked dark hair. Her comrade-in-spiritual-arms, irreverent attitude to all formality masking the reverence he held for his beliefs. She loved that. And she loved him, like the brother she’d always wanted. “You ready to whip these little reprobates into shape?” he asked cheekily.

“Sure am,” she said, hugging him. “And buy your own damn sandwich.”

They had one of their cheerfully productive working-lunches, pinging ideas back and forth, seeking out relevant Scripture passages and quotations from their favourite spiritual thinkers, then splicing them in their heads with relevant visuals they could use – music videos, film clips and advertisements. Scribbling down key points and discussion frameworks, working through all that they wanted covered by the end of each session.

“It’s much better to have broadened it like this,” said Neely, feeling good about the whole thing. “Looking at relationships as a whole, not just the sex part. Focus on all the things we can be developing and exploring, rather than the… the… the ones we shouldn’t be doing. Aren’t doing.” She hoped Jonas hadn’t noticed the derailing of her thoughts by a recollection of Ray’s thrashing tongue. It appeared he hadn’t.

“Yeah, totally agree. Look, I’ll put all the materials together tonight,” assured Jonas the tech-wizard, “in the IT suite.” Neely laughed at the reference – the former junk cupboard at the church, which her colleague had converted into his own computer-room-cum-editing-suite. “I’ll have the stuff for the first session really spot-on before the evening’s through.”

“Lonely evening for you,” said Neely.

“No, Leona’s going to come along and help me out.”

“Wow,” Neely grinned. “You really know how to romance a girl. She’s going to sit and watch in wonder at your tech skills. Maybe I should come rescue the poor thing.”

“She loves that stuff,” Jonas protested, shooting mock-daggers at her. “Better at it than I am. It’s a whole section of her media course.”

“Oh, right. I wondered what you two had in common.” Neely was so used to Jonas ribbing her, she preferred to get her jibes in first. “Cradle-snatcher…”

“Heyyyy!” He dipped his fingers and flicked her own water at her so she flinched. “I expect that from some of the other guys - that’s why we keep it low-key - but not from you. Leona’s a very mature nineteen-year-old.”

“Very pretty nineteen-year-old…”

“That too. Anyway, you’re the one dating the heathen hack.”

“Alright, alright, touché…” Neely glared at him, but her smile quickly broke through. “Looks like we’re both conducting relationships on the QT.”

“Hey, Neels, don’t sweat it,” he reassured. “You’ll have him converted to the faith in another month.”

“Maybe,” she said quietly, doubt flickering in her mind once more. “We’ll see…”

How Neely envied Jonas what he had with Leona. What was a few years’ age-difference when you had basic Christian compatibility? She envied Jasmin and Leo too, come to that, pursuing love- and sex-lives free of faith-imposed constraints, with people of similar mind. Everyone seemed on the same page with their lovers, whether the book was the Bible or the Kama Sutra. But what of those poor souls trying to reconcile conviction with desire, while their partner did not share those convictions? She would have to try to address her dilemma that night with Ray.

She carried the thought away with her from her lunchtime meet, spent all afternoon steeling her resolve, trying to think of her relationship with Ray in terms similar to those she’d discussed with Jonas. Trying to fit it back into that box. By early evening she’d almost convinced herself that she’d done it and just needed to convey the fact to her boyfriend. Her good work was all but undone when she met Ray outside Bristol’s Old Vic Theatre that evening. He reverted to his respectful pre-birthday self, greeting her with a brief chaste kiss on the lips, but it was enough to make her burn with memory.

“Missed you,” he told her, and it was mutual. She’d missed his broad presence close to her and the reined-in passion of his touch. And the deft work of his tongue, holy heavens had she missed that. Walking in with him, flirting in the bar over a pre-show drink, nestling next to him in the stalls – it all made her yearn for more of what she’d had, along with everything she’d not.

They relaxed into an involving production of David Auburn’s play Proof, a clever, moving tale of madness, mathematics and love. It was unexpectedly, disconcertingly erotic as well, in the scene where the maths prodigy offered up her cherry to her father’s PhD student; she appeared in the follow-up scene bath-robed and glowing, as though satisfyingly popped. It was a dramatic element that Neely could have done without, one which stuck with her till the actors took their bows and beyond. Perched on a stool in the theatre bar afterwards, she attempted to steer the conversation and her feelings somewhere safe.

“I was surprised to get your text about church. I didn’t think you were much interested in it for itself.”

Ray looked slightly embarrassed. “Well I’m not sure to what extent I am. But I think I need to establish a little balance.” He leaned across the table as he spoke and she tried to look into the blue of his eyes, rather than fixate on the light chest-hair visible past the unbuttoned section of his shirt.

“What kind of balance?” His after-shave was a sea-salt tang in her nostrils. She endeavoured to focus on his conversation.

“The type you always talk about. To remind myself of the whole of you, all your interests and aspects, not just the side I got carried away with on your birthday.”

Now even the conversation was problematic. This was not where Neely had hoped it would go. “I don’t want you to worry about that…”

“It does worry me,” he said. “It worries me that something I did to make you feel good on your birthday, to make you feel special and sexy, had the opposite effect.”

“It didn’t…” Emotion for him swelled within Neely and she wished that she could reassure him fully. “Well it… it did make me feel those things…” She couldn’t look at him. “…Sexy and special. It’s just… just… You know how much of a conflict it is for me. I can’t just give in to those… feelings…”

“It’s a conflict for me too.” His voice was low and earnest. The tone arrested her and she looked at him again. “I wanted you so much, Tuesday night. I’m not apologising for what I did, because I think you deserve to feel how that obviously made you feel. You’re this beautiful passionate girl with a lust for life and I just don’t see that God or man could accuse you of doing anything wrong in… in enjoying that gift.” Neely instinctively went to explain how it wasn’t simply a matter of feeling accused by God, that it was all to do with adhering to priorities in life, that it all tied into a much broader system of belief, but he stopped her. “Look, Neely, that doesn’t mean I intend to try and push anything else on you. I promise faithfully to myself every day that I won’t. I haven’t forgotten anything you’ve said on the subject and it doesn’t make less sense than it did. It’s just…”

“Just what?” Neely asked with trepidation. She didn’t need Ray going back on his avowal.

“Look, I’m not sure this is the place to talk about it.” Proximity of other theatre-goers was making her a little self-conscious, it was true. “Maybe wait till we’re in the car?” She agreed and tried to relax back into light-hearted chat, keeping her mind away from all the associations that went with lovers in cars driving their way to secluded places…

They sat in Ray’s BMW just down from the theatre shortly after. Neely felt less and more exposed. “What I was trying to say back there…” Ray continued, and her toes curled a little in fear and fascination. “It’s why I thought of the church thing. Discover more about why you believe what you believe. Get to know some of your church friends a bit better. Because I just need to get a handle on what I’m feeling here.”

“And… what are you feeling?”

“I… I… Damn, I shouldn’t even tell you this stuff. It’s probably not helpful.”

“No, Ray, you should. We need to be honest with each other. I need to know what you’re thinking.” It scared her, but she was sure this was the right line to take.

“I’m trying to get some perspective on my feelings, my frustrations. Not,” he added hastily, “just frustrations about the physical aspect of sex. It’s way more than that. I’ve never met anyone like you before, Neely. There’s a difference between wanting to have sex with someone just because they’re physically attractive and give you the horn - which you are and do -” He squeezed her jean-clad knee as though to reassure and she giggled a little in her fearful, pleased embarrassment. “…And wanting to make love to them because of who they are. Because you want to experience this amazing person in that way.” Neely was as moved as she was aroused. Ray’s face seemed to cloud a little. “I have such dreams about you…”

“You do?” Against her better judgement Neely wanted to know.

“You have no idea.” He looked away as though shamed by his confession. “Just… crazy dreams. I shouldn’t even be saying this.”

“I… I…” Neely kind of agreed at this point, but she didn’t want to stem the pent-up inner thoughts to which he was giving vent. “No, it’s better you say it…”

“I wake up and my head’s just full to bursting with… images of making love to you. How amazing that would be. With you. Tender, passionate, but not just that. It’s not like I think you’d break. I see… I sense so much passion in you and I think I know how intense it would be. How wild you would drive me, the things I would… The ways… Jesus… Sorry, shouldn’t swear like that. And shouldn’t… shouldn’t be such a typically horny guy I suppose.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay…” Neely stroked Ray’s arm as she always did when he agonised, but she too was feeling horribly tormented and her panties were as soaked as they had been on their birthday date. “You’re not typical…”

“If I care about you, then I need to respect what you believe. Not fixate on that one aspect of our relationship, just like you say.”

“Yes, I know that. But you’re a guy, you’re allowed to feel frustrated, I need to understand that too.” Like I’m NOT frustrated? Flaming hell… “We need to be able to talk it out.”

“Yes, well sometimes talking just makes it harder,” he smiled ruefully. “Pun intended.” Neely glanced inadvertently at his trouser crotch, which was indeed under considerable duress. “Caught you,” he said, and she looked up to see him grin. They laughed together at it almost uproariously, but her face was flaming at the same time. “Look,” he told her, “let me get you home before I say something even more inappropriate.”

The thought occurred to her as they set off through the dusk and it struck her as a good one. Maybe Ray did need the society of some of her Christian friends to help re-jig his perspective. And Alton Bridge was helpfully on their route. “Ray, is it okay if we stop off at the church? Jonas is round there finishing off some stuff for the workshop we’re doing and I’d love to have a look at what he’s come up with. If it’s not too late for you…”

Ray seemed a little surprised, but went with the flow. “Sure. He seems a good guy. What’s he up to, audio-visuals?”

They chatted off-topic of sex all the way to Alton Bridge – a considerable relief to Neely. All the lights were off when they arrived at the church, but she recognised the lone vehicle in the car park as Jonas’ Ford Mondeo. Ray pulled up on the kerbside.

“You can go inside,” Neely pointed out. “You weren’t torched by lightening the last time.”

“I’ll wait here. You go say hello.”

“No, come on, it’d be nice for you to meet some of the guys again.” She hopped out of Ray’s BMW and he followed her through the gates towards Jonas’ car. Drum-and-bass was pumping out of it – probably Leona’s choice of music rather than that of the car’s owner. Neely ran up to the Mondeo’s semi-steamed windows and wondered too late if she had stumbled upon the couple making out.

The “Hey” was out of her mouth the same instant she recognised that much more was going on. Jonas was not set to drive; he was sprawled back on the rear seat more or less stripped, his body a streak of lean muscle. Leona, his coffee-skinned girlfriend, was straddling him in a crouch, butt-naked and proud, mid-fornication. She wasn’t just riding Jonas’ cock, she had a double-grip on the back seat and was impaling herself on him repeatedly and hard with the brisk motion of her plump ass. It seemed she was determined to take him all the way up inside her on every connection of their loins. The slick frizz of her black hair was dancing all over her shoulders and her generously-curved young body was set off with a glaze of perspiration. Jonas had hold of her tight waist, but had no need to aid her movement, so committed was she to the fuck. His head was flung back and there was an ecstatic grin all over his face, as though he couldn’t believe his goddam luck.

Then he became aware of Neely’s presence at the front window and his expression turned to one of horror. Leona looked back and squealed in shock, halting mid-slide down her boyfriend’s shaft and grabbing a blouse with which to cover up her exposed breasts. “Oh my! Oh God!” Neely recoiled in an embarrassment which mirrored theirs, bumping into Ray who had walked up behind her.

“Everything okay?”

“What? Yes… Please, let’s go. Bad timing. Baaaad timing…”

She spun around and set off at a trot for Ray’s car, her face burning and her heartbeat an accelerated thump. She did not stop till she got there, then stood frantically waiting for Ray to let her inside.

“You alright?” he asked, concern in her voice.

“Yes, yes I’m fine. Just get me home. Please.”

“God,” he said, once they were inside. “You caught them fucking, didn’t you?”

“Yes!” She snapped the word at him in a sudden brief fury, then looked away, her eyes tearing with lonely confusion. “Yes… I’m sorry, Ray, can you just take me home?”

The journey was silent, Neely’s mind numbed by the ungodly vision to which she had been privy. When they arrived outside her apartment block, Ray laid a consoling hand on her arm. “There are worse things, sweetheart,” he said. “For a moment back there I thought the Church Car-park Killer had offed another couple.”

“Don’t joke about it!” She flinched from his touch a moment, then relented, taking his hand. “I’m sorry, Ray, it was just a shock. Look, I can’t deal with this right now. I need to be alone. Thanks… Thanks for a lovely evening…” She deposited the briefest peck on his cheek and got out of there. Somehow it seemed even dangerous than before to be alone with Ray Archer, and nothing to do with any change in him.

Jonas… Jonas! Lord, not him! Her stand-up fellow soldier in the fight, the guy who always had her back. When all around were falling and fornicating, aside from the smug marrieds and the interminably single self-righteous, they had each other – brother and sister in Christ, funny and cool, however chaste. Damn! Shit! Don’t do this to me! Oh God, that was why he wanted the youth group kids to be all clued-in and ‘street’ about contraception. It was nothing to do with concern for their welfare. It was because he couldn’t look them in the eye and tell them anything else, now he was fucking his hot nineteen-year-old girlfriend!

Hang on, maybe it was Leona who had lured him into it. Wretched girl. Tempting him away from his Christian lifestyle. Come on, let’s do it in the car right outside the church, it’ll be really hot. She’d want him to do it in the pulpit next, the little tart…

Neely felt instant shame at the thought. So much for her progressive feminist faith. She was back pointing fingers at Eve and Jezebel and Delilah, those temptresses of God-fearing men. It wasn’t like Jonas hadn’t been enjoying the proceedings. He’d been having himself a fine old time! And thinking back on all the times she’d seen them together – the closeness, the knowingness – she suddenly knew his enjoyment had been going on for months.

She sat in the kitchen, stewing in a sense of her own foolishness. Jasmin was in her own room and seemed content to stay there, which right now was fine with Neely. She had too much else occupying her mind to deal with her roommate right now. How could Jonas have done this? And with her striving so hard to be good with Ray? It took a large glass of Cabernet to slow everything down into a state of melancholy bemusement at the whole sorry mess.

When her mobile rang, her heart leaped again, but it was no surprise to see Jonas’ name on the display. She had hardly expected him to stay silent until Sunday. Flipping open the phone, she hurried into the bedroom so that Jasmin might not overhear. Anger was already flaring within her and she could not bring herself to speak first.

“Neely?” None of the regular jaunty nicknames. It was clear that Jonas had not relished making this call. “Neely, look, I’m sorry…”

“Yeah, me too…” She could not prevent the bitterness creeping into her voice.

“I don’t know what to say…”

“Well…” She could do nothing else but be frank. “I was kind of hoping for ‘It was a moment of madness, we got carried away, it’s never happened before and we’ll pray for strength that it doesn’t happen again…’ But I’m guessing you can’t honestly say all of that, am I right?”

There was a lengthy pause that filled her with despair. “We’ve been – having sex for the past two months. A lot.” Neely let slip a forlorn little moan. “Look,” he said, “I’m sorry you saw what you did. I know this puts you in a difficult position, the workshops and all…”

“Difficult?” She couldn’t fathom what she was hearing. “Impossible, more like! You were going to conduct these evenings and just carry on… carrying on? And you couldn’t even tell me? I thought we confided stuff! I thought there was trust between us…”

“Neely, trust is all very well, but this is personal! I don’t ask what goes on with you and Ray…”

“Nothing goes on with me and Ray!” she cried, being freer with the truth than she could ever recall. “I’m trying… I’m trying to lead my life so I can feel a little integrity when I’m with the members of the youth group…”

“What, and you think I’m not?” Jonas was defensive now. “You think it’s all been a sham?”

“Well no, no I don’t, of course I don’t, but come on… You’re seriously screwing up right now! What are you going to do about you and Leona? Just… Just tell me you’re not intending to keep on doing what you’re doing…”

Another pause, and this time the reply was less hangdog, more direct. “We’ve talked it through. And Neely we’re not intending to change anything.”

Neely was stunned and had to fight for words. “But… But you’re a Christian youth leader. Don’t you feel… how wrong it is? Don’t you feel any shame?”

There was a frankness to Jonas’ reply. “You know, I thought I would. But honestly, the main emotion I felt was relief I got laid before my twenty-ninth birthday. It’s weird, like a bit of a revelation. I can’t lie to you. Look, I care for Leona, we’ve committed to each other. I…”

“Jonas, she’s a college student! It’s not even like you’re going to marry the girl next week, at least I hope that’s not on your mind, she’s too damn young…”

“I know that, Neely. It’s part of the point. I guess I’m just fed up with waiting…”

“She was still in the youth group when you met her, you were her Youth Leader. Now you’re… at it with her in the back of your car! It’s wrong on a bunch of levels!”

“She’s an adult, Neely, I’m having sex with my grown-up girlfriend, so shoot me!”

“You’re flouting the teachings of the Bible, Jonas! Everything we believe! All that stuff we planned for the workshops, did that mean nothing?”

“No, Neely, I still hold to that, the basic principles – commitment, respect, monogamy…”

“Chastity? Where did that go? How can you just change the rules? How am I supposed to run relationships workshops with you when we’re not even aiming in the same direction?”

“I don’t know, Neely…” Cavalier as he had been moments before, he now sounded genuinely embarrassed about the whole situation. “Look, we’ll talk it through. We’ll make sense of it.”

“We’ll I’m damned if I know how! You’ve let me down, Jonas, and yourself. And the young people! I’m so mad at you right now, so mad…”

She ended the call still fuming, Jonas insisting that they talk more on Sunday when she’d cooled down, which incensed her all the more. She hadn’t calmed moments later when she received a text: YOU’RE NOT GOING TO TELL ANYONE ELSE, RIGHT?

She stabbed the reply angrily into her phone: OF COURSE NOT, YOU BLOODY IDIOT, WHAT SORT OF TELL-TALE DO YOU THINK I AM? She wasn’t one of those tattling believers – I think Jonas really needs our prayers right now, he’s really struggling… Neely had always despised that bullshit. But she just couldn’t see through the mess her friend had created. How was she supposed to work with him? How could she even cope without his support right now?

Her anger was subsiding into tearfulness when her phone buzzed once more. With alarm she noticed it was Ray. Following that night’s conversation and her disastrous attempt to connect him with fellow-Christians, she had no idea how to deal with it. Nonetheless she took the call, swallowing down all sobs before speaking.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself, Neely J. How’re you doing? I’m not calling too late, I hope…”

“No, no, you’re not… I’m okay, I’m fine.” Wow, I’m quite the liar this evening.

“I hope you’re not too upset by what happened.”

“No, really, it’s alright.” Why would I be? Just because you now know my Christian friends buck like bunnies along with everyone else… “Don’t worry about me.”

“’Cos I reckon I know what you’re thinking and if I’m right I don’t want you to feel that way.”

She loved the tenderness in his voice, but dreaded what tender thing he might say. “And what way’s that?”

“You’re worried I’ll get ideas. That whatever Jonas and his girl were doing in that car tonight, I’ll be hoping we’ll do as well. Because that’s not necessarily true. I mean, you know I’d love to be doing with you what they were with each other, but not through some seedy seduction. Only if I knew that was truly what you wanted to do.”

It IS what I want! That’s not the point!

“But you don’t, and that’s okay.”

Don’t you understand? Don’t you know how much I want you?

“And one more thing I wanted to say. Don’t be too hard on Jonas. He might be a Christian, but he’s also a guy. He’s got…”

Needs, please don’t say needs…

“…Desires. Passion for his girl. And he wants to express it, that’s all. You sure you’re okay? You’ve gone all quiet.”

“I’m…” God help me, I’m lost… “I’m okay.”

“I think somebody needs the use of those massage oils. You haven’t cracked them open yet?”

“What?” Sudden panic. “No. No, not yet…”

“God, sweetheart…” She heard apprehension in his voice. “Anytime you get like this, I feel sure you’re going to decide it’s all a bad idea and dump me.”

“No, no, no…” she rushed to reassure. Confusion aside, that was not what she wanted. “I won’t, I promise.”

“Well that’s good to know. Look, I think somebody needs sleep. You rest up and I’ll see you next week, okay?”

The care, the concern. The aching sexiness. She basked in melancholy as they signed off and tried to take his consideration to bed with her rather than Jonas’ and Leona’s greedy lust.

Wine and fraught emotion combined to weigh her down into shallow sleep which never deepened. She was leading a young adults’ Bible study at Jonas’ house on Christ’s parable of the Horny Goatherd. It must have come from one of the Apocryphal Gospels, she thought, as it was not story which she had ever heard. Before she could read it properly, however, she became aware of Jonas and Leona making out furiously on a recliner, he in briefs, she clad only in the most scant red-lace lingerie. Then Jonas was upending her, tearing aside the thin barriers of both their underwear and inserting himself roughly inside her, whereupon he embarked on a hefty rear fuck-action that made her soft bits shudder. “So tired waiting!” he informed Neely with fervour, as he slammed home inside his moaning girl. “And she’s such a hot little darling!”

All around her other Alton Bridge couples were following suit, grappling each other clothing-free and starting to copulate. “We’ve switched denominations!” Jonas yelled in a wild rutting frenzy. “We’ve all joined the church of St Danny! Come with us! Come with us!”

“So good, so good,” urged Leona, as her boyfriend filled her up. “You want this, Neely, you fucking want this… You fucking want some fucking cock…”

Then it wasn’t Jonas’ living-room, but the dining-hall of a great Gothic castle, with torches blazing in wall-brackets and animal-skin rugs on the floor, on which the orgiastic congregants continued their vigorous carnal pursuits. A figure loomed beside her and turning she saw it was Ray, tuxedoed with bow-tie removed and shirt ripped open, the crotch of his trousers full to bursting with the dramatic swell beneath. She felt exposed before him and realised with a start that she was utterly naked, seated on the end of the long dining-table. “The things I vant to do to you, Neely,” he growled, advancing on her slowly. His straining erection was threatening to pop the buttons on his fly and he was reaching across the table for a Lemongrass café white chocolate-chip cheesecake. “I’m going to spread zis all over you, all over you, then I’m going to lick it off you and out of you, till you scream vis pleasure.” He shovelled up the melting fondant with one large hand and slapped it onto her stomach, spreading it around, thickly over her breasts and down between her legs as she groaned with helpless excitement. “And zen,” he said, plastering cheesecake down the crack of her cunt and fingering it inside, “ven I haff licked you clean, you know vat I vill do next…”

“Yes, yes,” she panted, “I know…”

“You know vat I vill put inside you, Neely, you know how hard I vill take you…”

“Yes, I know…”

He continued to feed dessert inside her intimate wet hole with his fingers, as she propped herself up and just watched. “Tell me how much you vant it… Tell me how much, Neely…”

“I want it… I want it…”

“How much?” Filling her up, with sticky, sugary mess. “Tell me…”

“So bad, I want it so bad… God help me please, help me please, help me please…”

She woke, slick with perspiration and her own fingers inside herself rather those of the Germanic Ray. Her heart was beating rapidly and eroticised dread was galloping through her.

“Neely, you okay?”

She started, gathering the bed-sheet closer about her, before she recognised Jasmin silhouetted by the landing light in her doorway. Her petite housemate was dressed in little more than a dark tee-shirt and appeared just as sleep-rumpled as Neely. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine.”

“I heard you cry out. You scared me.”

“Just… Just a weird dream. That’s all.” She tried to regain her breath a moment. “What about you? Feeling better than this morning?”

“Hmmm? Yeah, yeah, I’m better.” Jasmin hovered at the threshold, as though uncertain whether or not to come in, whether or not to speak again. She seemed to pause an inordinately long time, her mouth gaping slightly as though words were trying to make their way out. Then just: “See you tomorrow, Neely. Hope you sleep better.”

And she was gone, leaving Neely bemused, along with forlorn, guilty and throbbing for Ray.

* * * *

26/6/10 01:15

(excerpt)

…So, roomie Jasmin is keeping a low profile, it seems, and the serendipitous timing of the ‘Jonas’ incident has only served to push her closer. I’m expecting to earn your forgiveness very soon. The tension was palpable all through the evening and when I called her late… Let me just assure you that she’ll be ripe for the plucking within a few short days. Take massage add soft lighting, ambient music and a little liquid loosener, and watch how far I get.

Ray

25/6/10 21:22 PST

Ray –

My forgiveness isn’t won quite as easily as the Christian type, let me warn you. Today may have provided you with a lucky break, but you’re still on the clock, depending on how good a friend this Jasmin turns out to be. Perhaps her guilty secret is festering away inside her, till she feels desperate to disinfect. Assuming she’ll spill, you’d better work at the height of your powers. As things stand, you can’t finish this soon enough.

Which is a shame. A cocktail of win and massage oil should give you a fifty-fifty shot, or so it strikes me. But what a tawdry way to finish off the business. Prising her virginity from her under alcohol’s treacherous influence. If time were a luxury you still possessed, I’d say wait for her to ask. Make her come to you fresh from church begging for your cock. Let her embrace her slut-nature in the cold light of day, with no excuse to give her God short of her own pure-burning lust. Now that is a seduction of a higher order.

No matter. I’ll settle for a basic debauching. Just don’t fuck up again. Do what you need to short of outright force and do it soon. Fuck the Jesus-girl, Ray, whatever it takes.

Carlotta.