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I've always suspected that these English guys were loonies. Ever since I met a bunch of them at a party, I've been convinced that they're all nuts. They steal police officers' helmets and drink boring cocktails, and they party too much. And then they've got servants; people who run around saying, “Yes, sir” and “Most distressing, sir.”
Loonies, all of them. But very nice guys. And very, very friendly. Almost too friendly for a simple American like me. And if you don't think it's possible for anyone to be too friendly, you just haven't met Bertie and Jeeves. Let me tell you how I found out that English gentlemen and their butlers – oh, sorry, Jeeves, valets – are a bit on the loony, friendly side for my tastes.
***
“Sure,” I'd said, “but I don't have more than one extra room.”
“Oh, no trouble at all, Rocky; he can stay in my room,” said Bertie.
So there they were; Bertie and Jeeves, in their fancy dress and fancy accents, visiting my place in Long Island. It was getting late.
“I say, Rocky, old thing,” Bertie said, “you don't have an extra blanket, do you?”
I love how they talk; it's so charming in a nostalgic and classy way. I could probably write a poem about it.
“Sure, Bertie,” I said. “Kinda cold, isn't it?”
“Well, yes. And Jeeves is rather tall, you know.”
I'd almost forgotten that Jeeves was there. He has that effect on people; he's kind of just there without anyone really noticing. I think he'd been reading in the kitchen, or something. Jeeves is an intelligent man; if I didn't always get the impression that he didn't want to look at me, I would have enjoyed talking to him.
“Oh, yeah, that's right. You sure you'll be alright with just one bedroom?”
“Perfectly fine, old top; we Woosters are no strangers to roughing it.”
I wasn't quite sure what he meant by ´roughing it`, but he didn't seem worried, so I found him an extra blanket. He and Jeeves went upstairs to go to bed, and I went to my own bed. I'm always deadly tired after ten at night.
I woke up a little later, around midnight, when a loud crash rattled the walls. There was just one crash, and then nothing. I lit an oil lamp and headed into the night to investigate.
All seemed quiet in the hallway, so I went to the second bedroom. I tapped lightly on the door and pushed it open. “Bertie? Did you hear that?”
Bertie's bedroom was pitch dark, and as the light from my lamp filled it, there was a rustle of fabric. When the pool of light reached the bed, I saw that it was empty.
“I say!”
Bertie suddenly appeared from behind the bed, a blanket wrapped around him. “I say, Rocky, it's a bit late for a social call, what?” he said.
I raised the oil lamp a bit, and Bertie blinked against the light.
“Did you hear it, Bertie?”
“What, old thing?”
“The crash! There was, I don't know, a great, big thud! Like something smashing the front door!” I explained. Bertie seemed oblivious, so maybe I'd only dreamt it.
“Oh, that, yes. Ah, it was only me. I fell out of the bed,” Bertie said. He tried sitting down on the bed, but the blanket kind of hindered him.
“Hey, where's Jeeves?” I asked.
Jeeves, like his plans, kind of flickers into view. And that's what he did; one moment, he wasn't there, and the next, he was standing next to Bertie on the far side of the bed.
“Sir?”
Jeeves, too, was wrapped in a blanket. And I could see by the lamp light that his hair was all tousled.
“What's going on?” I asked.
Bertie fidgeted, but Jeeves cleared his throat in that polite way of his and spoke.
“We fell, Mr Todd.”
“Fell?”
“Off the bed; the blankets proved more... troublesome than I had anticipated,” Jeeves said.
Bertie gargled something that could well have been “Jeeves!”
“Well, why were you both falling off the bed?” I asked.
Bertie grinned sheepishly. “Rocky, dear chap, you know how it is when one exerts oneself beyond the allotted space, what?”
I didn't understand a word he was saying. “Huh?”
“Well, you know... Jeeves and I are used to the bed in the master bedroom. It's a little bigger than this one. We forgot ourselves,” Bertie said, and it wasn't until that moment that I noticed they were wrapped in blankets, but not pyjamas.
“You're sharing a bed?”
Jeeves arched an eyebrow at me. “I thought you had told him, Bertie?”
Whoa, boy. Jeeves calling anyone by their first name? That couldn't be right, I thought.
“Oh, um, it must have slipped my mind,” Bertie said, looking a little confused. “I was going to, see, Rocky. Just so you wouldn't... well, wonder what the devil we were doing sharing a bed.”
I think I might have turned beet red at that point.
“Homosexuals,” I said, and Jeeves nodded.
“I trust our confidence is not misplaced, Mr Todd?”
“Oh, sure,” I said, and started backing out of the room. “Um, yeah, I'll keep a secret.”
“Jolly good,” Bertie said. He cocked his head at me, and grinned. “Wouldn't want to have a go at it, I suppose?”
That shocked me, if anything ever did!
“What?”
“Bertram, I don't think -”
“Oh, come now,” Bertie said, and he grinned up at Jeeves. “You said yourself that Rocky's a handsome chap, did you not?”
“Hey!”
“I did, but I was not -”
“I know you weren't, Jeeves. But it seems a little rude, what, carrying on like this without offering Rocky his share of the fun.”
I was about to argue when Jeeves looked at me. There's something hypnotic about that fella; can't say what, but he's interesting. And he was looking interested, if you know what I mean.
“True,” he said. “Mr Todd's appealing attributes are hard to overlook.”
I gaped at them.
“And he's a good egg, eh, Jeeves?”
“Hey, now, don't -”
“Also true, Bertie. I agree the inclusion of Mr Todd to our endeavours would be... most stimulating. If, that is, Mr Todd is amenable to the idea?”
“What's that he said, Bertie?”
“He means to ask, Rocky, old top, if you're interested. I can promise you it's great fun!” Bertie said, and grinned at Jeeves again.
Now, a poet must tell the truth in his works, like a mirror held up to the grim face of reality. It would be pure hypocrisy of me to lie, so I won't.
I was interested. I was actually very interested in Bertie; had been since I first met him. But I was a little unsure about Jeeves; I'll admit that.
“You two are... a pair, I guess?”
“Well, we haven't marched down the aisle or put an advertisement in the Times,” Bertie said. “But we've done the vows. Privately, of course.”
“And you still...”
“Your participation would be a matter of added excitement to our carnal relations,” Jeeves said, and his eyes were glittering. “As I believe the term goes, no strings attached.”
“Well put, Jeeves,” Bertie said, then shuffled around the bed – still wrapped in that blanket. “What say you, Rocky?”
“Um... okay, I guess,” I said. Looking back now, I sometimes think I oughta have left the room before being asked that question. But Bertie really looked adorable doing that blanket-wrapped shuffle of his.
“Splendid! Then let us go to it, eh, Jeeves?”
“Quite, Bertie.”
And before I could blink, Jeeves and Bertie were standing right in front of me, blankets gone and hands tugging suggestively at my pyjamas.
“Oh,” I said. I'm usually a talkative guy, and eloquent, being a poet and all, but you can't blame me for not finding my tongue when Bertie leaned in until his face was just inches from my own. His skin was golden and glowing in the lamp light.
“Jeeves, would you get the lamp?” Bertie asked. “I'm going to kiss Rocky.”
“Very good, Bertie.”
Jeeves took the lamp from me and put it on the bedside table. This was probably a very good idea, since Bertie barely waited for my nod before pressing his lips to mine. And as soon as I tasted that kiss, my knees went weak.
Bertie's kiss is indescribable. He's not very much taller than me, but I felt like I was hanging from his shoulders and clinging to life by nothing but his tongue in my mouth.
“Bertie!” I gasped when he released me. “Where did you learn to kiss like that?”
“From Jeeves, of course,” Bertie said, smirking. “He's taught me everything I know in the bed department. Would you like me to demonstrate?”
Jeeves flittered up behind me and slid his hands around my waist. “Allow me, sir,” he said, and began unbuttoning my pyjama top.
“Are you really going to call him sir while we're...”
“Do you wish me to break with decorum, sir?”
This last part was obviously meant for me. Jeeves sounded just like he always does, so I couldn't tell if he actually wanted to ´break with decorum` or not.
“Call me Rocky, Jeeves, if that's alright with you. I'll call you what Bertie calls you, I guess?” I asked. It felt really strange, being undressed and talking about names at the same time.
“Topping,” Bertie said with another of his charming grins. Then he placed a hand on my shoulder and steered me towards the bed. “But don't let him fool you; Jeeves is just toying with you. He'll call you Rocky. Let's get... what's the word I want, Jeeves?”
“Cooking, perhaps?”
“That's the chap. Let's get cooking, then.”
Before I could really figure out what was happening, I was lying on my back on the bed, and Jeeves and Bertie were joining me on it – Jeeves lying calmly by my side, propped up on an elbow while he stroked admiring fingers down my cheek; and Bertie on hands and knees over me, looking eager.
We were all naked by that time, and I had to stare at the two other men; I just couldn't help myself. They were so different! Jeeves was a little taller than Bertie, and Bertie's taller than me, so I felt like I was in bed with giants. Jeeves' skin was darker than Bertie's; all tanned and golden. Bertie was like pale cream in contrast.
Their hands were rather similar, actually; long-fingered and elegant. But when they touched me, I felt the difference: where Bertie's touch was that of an artist's hands, Jeeves' fingers were calloused from work, stronger and more direct in their approach.
Bertie straddled my hips, and I noticed how lean and delicate his frame was. He looked almost boyish, but the heat of his body belied his innocent features. His blue eyes and golden curls looked nothing like saintly at that moment.
“What posish do you usually prefer, Rocky?” Bertie asked, looking mischievously down at me.
“Oh, uh, I... don't get out that much, Bertie. I haven't done this in years.”
“Might I suggest, Bertie, that we introduce Mr Todd to the best of both worlds, as it were?” Jeeves murmured, and kissed my collar bone delicately.
“Jolly good! ... How do you mean, Jeeves?”
Jeeves sat up and kissed Bertie lightly, then gently pushed the other man off me. Bertie laid down on his back next to me.
“I suggest that Mr Todd... Rocky... penetrate you, Bertie, while I subject him to the same pleasure,” Jeeves said in a low rumble. His eyes were still glittering in the lamplight.
I bet you I blushed. But I wanted it. I coveted. That's supposed to be a sin, isn't it? Well, I don't know about sins, but I wanted Bertie and Jeeves more than anything right then.
Bertie groaned and turned over to kiss me again. “Sounds alright with you, old thing?” he murmured against my lips.
“Sure,” I said. My voice was raspy and dry. “Yeah, sure.”
“If you will lie atop Bertie,” Jeeves told me, “I shall assist you in preparing him.”
Bertie must have been used to being the passive party, because he spread his legs and smiled trustingly up at me when I knelt between his legs. Jeeves then pressed against my back, his hands on mine at my sides.
“Here... Rocky.”
Jeeves pressed a small jar of something into my hand.
“Petroleum jelly,” the valet explained.
“I say, Jeeves! I do think our little poet is blushing!” Bertie crowed, laughing merrily. “Are you ashamed at your proc... proliv... What's that word, Jeeves?”
“Proclivities?”
“Yes, that's the chap. Are you ashamed of your proclivities, Rocky?”
I shook my head, and unscrewed the lid of the jar. “Of course not. I got some decency, is all.”
Jeeves chuckled softly in my ear, and I dropped the jar. Who would ever have thought that Jeeves could chuckle?
“Decency is all very good in public, Mr Todd. However, to maintain decorum in the bedroom leaves something to be desired of the lovemaking, does it not?”
And here Jeeves reached around me, and grabbed my, uh, my shaft with slick fingers.
“Oh!”
“Spread your legs a little more, Bertram,” Jeeves said, his voice dark as he pressed against my back. “Mr Todd and I will require space to properly prepare you for penetration.”
Bertie did as he was told. Jeeves covered my fingers in jelly, as well, and pushed lightly against me until I was hovering over Bertie – still on his back, still grinning up at me in relaxation and eagerness. Then he brought my hand to Bertie's rear end guided my fingers to the opening there.
It turned out Bertie was a verbal guy in bed. I mean, he didn't say many coherent things, but he certainly made a lot of noise.
“Ro-hoh! Rocky! Jeeves! Oh, God!” he cried, bucking against my hand the moment my finger disappeared into his body. “Oh!”
“Is he always this responsive?” I rasped. Bertie's face was incredible to watch; it crumpled in pleasure before I could even add a second finger to the one already moving with his body.
“Always,” Jeeves whispered in my ear. His large, solid frame was still pressed against my back. “You should see him when he is buggered, Rocky. Like a wanton whore, he begs for your prick and shouts the most delicious obscenities.”
I groaned, as did Bertie. Jeeves' words were as hypnotic as his eyes.
“Would you like to bugger him, Rocky?” Jeeves continued. “Would you like to see him in such a state? I assure you it is pure heaven to be inside him when he climaxes.”
“Yes,” I moaned. “Yes, Jeeves. I want to fuck him.”
“Then get on with it!” Bertie whimpered, reaching for me. “Please, Jeeves, make him...”
“Take him, Rocky. He's ready,” Jeeves purred.
With Jeeves' hands gently guiding me, I finally slid into Bertie's body. He moaned beneath me and put his hands on my hips, urging me to push deeper. It was only through sheer force of will that I didn't orgasm right at that moment.
“Oh, Bertie,” I sighed, pulling back a little and pushing back into him. “Wow.”
“Quite,” Jeeves said behind me. Then I felt the valet's fingers, slick with more of the cool jelly, between my buttocks. I held still, a little stiffly maybe. It'd been years since anyone had done that to me.
“Relax, please, Rocky,” Jeeves murmured, and his fingers pressed into me.
I grunted something into Bertie's neck, which I had been kissing slowly, and tried to let myself relax. It was so tempting so simply slip into the cloud of pleasure that seemed to encompass the entire bed and merely let go.
Soon enough, I felt boneless and overheated under Jeeves' ministrations. His fingers were pushing into me, stretching my body, and Bertie was clenching rhythmically around me. The latter's eyes were wide and dark; he looked up at me with undiluted desire. His mouth was open and much too tempting not to kiss.
And just as I thrust my tongue between Bertie's lips, Jeeves replaced his fingers with his dick and thrust into me. I moaned into Bertie's mouth, but didn't break the kiss – his tongue felt too wonderful against mine.
“Jeeves,” Bertie gasped, ending our kiss after some time. “Jeeves, please move. This is driving me mad!”
Jeeves' arms came around me as he braced himself against the mattress, his hands near my own. Bertie's hands were clutching at my shoulders. It was the most intimate tangle I could ever have imagined.
“Allow me to move us, Rocky,” Jeeves murmured. “When I thrust forward, follow my movement.”
And Jeeves slowly pressed into me; I, in turn, pressed into Bertie. The pleasure was so strong my eyes rolled; Jeeves' considerable erection stroked inside me while I felt Bertie's heat tightly surrounding me. It was just too good to be true. Then Jeeves started moving properly, and I almost came.
Jeeves looks very gentle when he's dressed and valet-ish. You'd never think his upper arms are like iron bands around your chest when he pulls you to him, or that his hips shove against your own like a rutting animal.
But his arms are completely unyielding, and he doesn't make love, he fucks. At least that's what he did to me. Jeeves fucked me, covering my body with his, as I fucked Bertie. With a sharp cry, Bertie clenched around me, moaning a name into my neck, and I followed him with an exclamation of my own.
“Good God, Rocky,” Bertie panted. “That's... quite -”
Just then Jeeves bit my neck hard, and I yelped and startled so I pushed harder into Bertie. We both groaned, and I heard Jeeves give another throaty chuckle in my ear.
“You feel delightful, Rocky,” he murmured. “As delightful, I imagine, as Bertram feels around you right now.”
“Unfh,” I replied, too focused on not simply coming too soon and bringing this wonderful thing to an early closure. It was hard enough as it was, without having to speak.
“Please, Rocky,” Bertie moaned, his head tossing a little against the pillows. “Please, oh, good heavens, fuck me, Rocky!”
Jeeves was the one who complied; I was too overcome with sensations. Jeeves thrust hard and relentlessly into me, and I let him move us, my hips pushed by his until I was as deeply sheathed in Bertie as I could be. Then Jeeves put a hand on my hip, taking even more complete control of my thrusts, and Bertie cried out.
“Jeeves! Jeeves, harder!”
“I believe Rocky... has yet to hear you beg properly, Bertram,” Jeeves said, and his voice was breathless. He gave a few more hard thrusts, and I groaned into Bertie's shoulder.
“Please!” Bertie immediately whimpered, his hands pulling greedily on my shoulders. “Please, Rocky, bugger me! Harder!”
My head spun, and I was lost, I couldn't control myself; I climaxed, caught between their two magnificent bodies, shouting their names. I drowned in heat and pleasure, friction and hard, lean bodies.
“Jeeves,” Bertie moaned, his body clutching at me. “Jeeves, oh, good Lord, I can feel him!”
I was shuddering, barely aware that Jeeves was still moving my hips by his own. I was spent, sated, overwhelmed by the sensations, and yet Jeeves kept fucking me. Fucking Bertie through me.
“Tell me,” Jeeves demanded, his voice strained and rough.
“His release,” Bertie purred, and he pulled my face to his own so we could kiss languidly. Jeeves' thrusts slowed somewhat.
“I felt him climax inside me, Jeeves.”
Jeeves, groaning deeply, seemed to falter behind me, his movements erratic, and I realized Bertie's dirty words had sent him over the edge. Jeeves, that stoic figure, had lost himself in the heat of the moment. I felt the slick evidence of it ease his thrusts; soon enough, Jeeves and I were both barely moving.
“Rocky,” Bertie pleaded. His voice was desperate, raw with hungry desire, and his body pulled at me as much as his hands did as he begged for more. “Please, Rocky, don't stop now! Jeeves! Oh, don't stop, please, don't stop!”
Jeeves, without saying a word, pushed me off Bertie with a slight smirk. I rolled to my side next to him, heaving for breath, and watched Jeeves slide down and effortlessly take Bertie's cock into his mouth. His lips fastened around the hard flesh, and Bertie cried out.
“Jeeves!” Bertie moaned, and his man's name quickly became a chant. I could only watch raptly while Jeeves, his dark, tousled hair almost concealing his eyes, took Bertie all the way down his throat without a complaint, his throat muscle visibly working. And still Jeeves' name came ceaselessly tumbling from Bertie's lips, high-pitched now that my English friend was obviously nearing his completion.
“Come on, Bertie,” I whispered, watching him intently. “Come on, let go.”
He was so beautiful like that; just on the edge – like a Greek painting. His limbs were twitching, his pale, delicate skin sweat-slicked and flushed as he bucked against Jeeves' lips. His face was contorted as if he was trying to scream, but couldn't. I'd never really thought about Bertie being beautiful before, but I did then.
I wanted so much to see him climax.
“Jeeves,” Bertie whimpered, and from the way his hands clutched at the bedding, I assumed he was close.
Jeeves gave a purring, rumbling sound, as if he was growling pleasantly in his throat, and Bertie screamed – really screamed – and came. I watched his red, panting mouth form Jeeves' name silently and for a moment, I wished I could be the one to make him scream like that.
But then, I had made him beg. It was a heady sensation; watching Bertie Wooster, shivering in aftershocks after being brought to orgasm by Jeeves, that wonder among men, and myself. I could have written sonnets about it, I suppose, if I'd not been so captured by the sight of the languid kiss shared by the two men in my bed, now that Jeeves had slid back up Bertie's body to join us.
“I love you, Jeeves,” Bertie muttered, nipping Jeeves' lips playfully. Then he turned to me, and a smug grin spread over his face.
“I say, Rocky! What a show! I never knew you had it in you, old chap. Stellar performance,” he said, and even Jeeves had to smile.
“Well, um,” I replied. I think Jeeves must have fucked my mind right loose in my skull, because I couldn't think of anything else to say.
Jeeves stretched out on the bed next to Bertie, looking relaxed and sated and absolutely kissable. “Indeed.”
“I think we should come visit Rocky every time we're in New York, what, Jeeves?” Bertie chattered, winking at me. “Several times a week, even.”
I gave a shaky laugh, finally feeling the strain of tiredness. “I can live with that.”
***
Not that I really mind. As I told you, Englishmen are a bit crazy and overly friendly for my tastes; I like Bertie and Jeeves, of course, but they completely wore me out that night when I discovered them falling off the bed in my spare bedroom. I've discovered that Sam, my editor's brother, is more than enough to handle for a simple poet like myself.
Still, I'm looking forward to their visit in October. A little exertion once in a while never did anyone any harm.