0 comments/ 47651 views/ 5 favorites Body Double By: J G Parkes There was great excitement in a small Yorkshire village when a film company arrived to shoot a remake of 'Wuthering Heights' on location. It was a major production, mainly financed with Hollywood money, thus an internationally famous American star was required to play Cathy. The rest of the cast were British, including a darkly handsome Heathcliff. It all began when the owner of the cottage, Julia Cooper, opened the door to two men almost identically dressed in parkas and jeans, though there was a great difference in height and girth. "Hi." The younger, taller and slimmer man beamed at her. "Hello." "We work for a film company and we're scouting locations." "Oh, how exciting.." "Ninety per cent boredom, ten per cent excitement." "Are you making a film round here?" "A remake of 'Wuthering Heights'." "You've come to the right place." "Bronte country." He smiled. Rather a nice smile. "My name's Jonty Trevalyan." "Pleased to meet you." They rather formally shook hands. The smaller man pushed his way inside. "Are you the owner of this house?" "Yes." Julia had taken an instant dislike to this intruder. Jonty was still standing outside. She looked at him; he shrugged. "I am Mark Selbie," the small man declared. "Art Director for Focus Productions and the new version of 'Wuthering Heights'." "Oh. I see. Except I don't. Why are you here?" "I was looking around a few days ago," Jonty explained. "I saw this cottage and thought it would be perfect for a scene in the film. I knocked on the door, but apparently you were out." "You should have left a note." "I agree, but it was absolutely pouring with rain and I was soaking wet. Been tramping around the district and got caught in a sudden downpour." Julia laughs. "It happens on the moors." "So, anyway, I thought I'd bring Mark see the place for himself before making a final decision." "Wasn't your recommendation good enough?" Jonty shrugged and gave her a small smile. "I'm only the Assistant Director." "Sounds important." "Nothing more than a gofer." He stepped inside and Julia closed the door. She confronted the Art Director, who was poking around, looking through various doors. "Can I help you?" Her voice was icily cold. "Hope so. Splendid cottage you've got." "I'm glad you think so." "Late 18th century." "Yes." "Not modernised structurally." "Is that a condemnation?" "On the contrary. You're to be congratulated on leaving well alone. Too many people buy splendid old property then 'restore' it. I use the word advisedly. As far as I'm concerned, they're nothing better than vandals. But this...." he gestured with his arm. "....splendid. Good for our purpose, too." Julia frowned. "Your purpose?" "18th century, retaining its original appearance and set apart from all the other property." Julia smiled. "Yes, my parents loved it. I haven't lived here for a number of years." "Oh?" "My father died a month ago and I inherited the property. I'm putting it on the market." "Um." Selbie vaguely nodded, his thoughts elsewhere. "It's perfect for an interior scene we have when we see Cathy and Heathcliff having sex for the first and only time." Trying to remember the story of 'Wuthering Heights', Julia frowned. "Does that happen?" "It does in this movie," the Assistant Director cheerfully replied. "That's Hollywood for you." "Naturally." "Anyway, we wanted your permission to use this cottage. A few exterior shots, a couple of interiors. We'll refurnish completely for the filming. Period stuff, of course. Wall decoration; it all has to look right. Most of the action will take place in the master bedroom." Selbie opened another door. It was a cupboard. "Can I see it?" "Oh, I don't...." Jonty smiled. "Don't worry, Mrs....?" He raised his eye-brows, interrogatively. "Cooper. Julia Cooper. I'm not married." "Don't worry. When we're finished everything will be re-instated. You won't notice anything. We're pretty good at that kind of thing." "Would I have to move out?" "Not at all, as long as you don't mind living with a film crew and a lot of equipment for a few days. Some areas will be out of bounds, of course." Julia grinned. "Such as the master bedroom." Jonty smiled back. "Exactly." "How long will you be?" "Five days are scheduled." "For one love scene?" "It's a pretty hot one. No holds barred. Totally nude, very intimate. There's a couple of days rehearsal with clothes on so they know exactly what they're doing, then another with very little clothing, so they get the feel of each other...." "A good way of putting it." ".....then a couple shooting it." "I thought the director would call 'action' and they'd simply go through the motions of making love. After all, most of us frequently do it in real life." Jonty shook his head. "I'm afraid it's rather more controlled and mechanical in the movies. But it still has to look good." Tired of the conversation, Selbie demanded a decision. "There's other property we can view, though I must admit to liking this very much. But we have to get it fixed up today. I think.....eight hundred pounds would be the highest amount we could offer." Julia looked at him, wide-eyed. "Eight hundred pounds to use my house for a film?" "A day," Jonty interposed. "For five days?" "Yes." "That's....." Julia did a quick mental calculation, but thought she must have got it wrong. "Four thousand pounds," she gulped." "Please, Mrs......" Selbie snapped his fingers in irritation. "Cooper," Jonty reminded him. "Yes....yes....Mrs Cooper." "She's not married." Selbie clucked in annoyance. "Please can we have your answer. Yes or no?" Julia hesitated briefly, then nodded. "Yes." ***** There was much activity at the cottage the day before rehearsals were due to start. An iron bedstead was installed with genuine looking 18th century furniture in the periphery of the camera's eye. Three cameras were to be used, two in fixed positions and the third hand-held. Several large, powerful lamps provided a fair amount of illumination and even more heat. The set was closed to everyone except those essential to filming the scene and the window was blocked off to thwart peeping-toms. The Oscar winning American actress remained aloof from everyone, spending all her spare time ensconced in a vast, centrally heated caravan. She was accompanied by a somewhat butch secretary and minder, the two of them seemingly inseparable. Rumour had it that they were lesbians; rumour was probably right. The actor playing Heathcliff was completely the opposite, always finding a friendly word, and even managing to remember the name of the most humble technician. Alan Drury was born and bred in Warwickshire, but ironically, as he ruefully admitted, had never been asked to play in Stratford. He was in his early thirties, dark-haired, blue-eyed and with finely handsome features. For his part as Heathcliff he had grown a light beard. In company with most of the other women on the set, Julia was completely smitten by the handsome actor. The kitchen seemed to be a natural rendezvous for people not actively engaged in the immediate proceedings and Julia was on permanent call to make tea. "I hope we're not abusing you and your hospitality," Alan said as she filled his cup. "I enjoy it. I wouldn't do it otherwise. How's it going?" "Well enough." Julia was at the epicentre of all gossip as she dished out tea and biscuits. The first two days, clothed rehearsals, apparently went with few hitches or arguments. Kisses, caresses and general body movements were discussed and agreed with vague gestures and pretence of the action. By the end of day two the Oscar winning actress had permitted some fumbling and had obediently spread herself on the bed with Alan on top. Storm clouds began showing themselves on the morning of day three. Julia saw Alan Drury enter her bedroom wearing a ruffled cotton shirt and breeches. A few minutes later the leading lady, clad in a flimsy, pale-coloured full length dress with plunging neckline, rushed in surrounded by helpers, who seemed to be hiding, and/or, protecting her from prying eyes. She was probably a few years younger than Julia, but had much the same build and colouring. The Oscar-winning actress was ushered into the bedroom for her big love scene. No-one, absolutely no-one, was permitted to be in there except Alan and the Director. No matter that the cameraman protested he must align his equipment and do some dummy shots in preparation for the Big Event. Miss Oscar Winner was naked....well, almost. In truth she wore a bikini which successfully hid all of her most intimate parts. The rehearsal went badly. This was supposed to be as near the real thing as they could get with her in a bikini and Alan in shorts. Cathy flinched every time Heathcliff, the love of her life, got anywhere near her. She went into hysterics when he mounted her in simulation of the love act and she felt his hardness against her thigh. Alan went flying off the bed as his co-star threw him off her. Almost immediately an altercation started, loud enough to be heard in most parts of the house. "This is so ridiculous." That was the actress. "What's wrong now?" The Director sounded peeved. "I can't play this scene." "But, lovey, it's all arranged." "Don't give me any of that lovey crap. I've fucking had you limeys up to here." "I'm sorry, Ms Dawson, but you agreed to play this scene as written. It's in your contract." "This fucking scene isn't in the book. I've read the book and there's nothing like this. Cathy Earnshaw doesn't bare her boobs and ass in front of Heathcliff - or anyone else." "She does in this movie." "Not this gal." "If you don't do this scene as written the whole dramatic thrust of the piece is lost." "I don't do porno." With that, the Oscar-winning actress slammed out of the bedroom and out of the cottage leaving behind her a thick fog of gloom. There was a long silence, then the Director and Alan came out of the bedroom, followed by the cameraman. "What the hell do we do now?" "I could try to persuade her that it would all be very tasteful," the cameraman half-heartedly suggested. "Is that necessarily true?" Alan enquired. "I wanted it to be as raunchy as hell," the Director admitted. "Suzi Dawson and raunchy don't go together," the cameraman sighed. "She's bible belt. They don't do things like that." "But she agreed. She knew before we started that this scene was integral to the action and she was going to have to do it nude and roll around a bed with Alan here. We don't expect her to do it for real, but she has to make it look convincing." "Maybe if we call head office they'll bring some pressure to bear." "We don't have time to play around. We're all set to go. I'd replace the bitch if I had my way, but there's too much in the can now. We're behind schedule and over budget. We can't afford to waste time." The Assistant Director coughed. "What is it, Jonty?" "If you don't mind a suggestion, Michael." "Anything would be useful right now." "A body double." The cameraman nodded. "Possible. Yes, distinctly possible. I could shoot everything except the face and then splice in a few shots of our star's wondrous features. You'd never see the join." "That's all very well, but where are we going to get a body double fast enough to shoot this bloody scene here and now when we're ready?" There was a deep silence. "I'll do it." Julia, sitting quietly in a corner, spoke in a small voice. The Director looked round. "Who said that?" Julia held up her hand. "Me." All the men looked at her. "A good physical likeness." Jonty nodded his approval. "Hair's similar," said Alan. The cameraman looked critically at her. "I'd say we could get away with it." "You realise what you're offering to do, Mrs Cooper?" Julia smiled at the Director. "Appear naked in my own bedroom." "More than that, Mrs Cooper." "I'm not married. Please call me Julia." "You've got to make love to Alan here." "That would be a great chore." "I'm not joking. This is an international movie; big budget, big stars. What's up on that screen has to look like the genuine article. It isn't, of course; it's all fake, but that mustn't show. The audience have to believe that what they're seeing is true. That's where acting comes in. A body double has to be as convincing as the star she's impersonating." "I can do that." The Director looked at her for a few moments, then threw up his hands. "Okay, okay. I'll go and tell our star what's happening. Get yourself into a bikini and let's go, go, go." Julia sped away, followed by a wardrobe assistant. The Director turned to Jonty. "Get London. I want casting to round up a suitable body double pronto and have her stand by." "Don't you think Julia can do it?" "I don't know what the hell she can do; and neither does she. It may be her own bedroom and she may be doing what comes naturally, but it's a different ball game in a room full of people with cameras prying at you. We can't afford to waste time and that's why I'm going with this crazy idea, but I'd feel safer knowing there's a professional waiting in the wings, even if we're delayed till she gets here." "Right." Jonty went off to phone. Less than an hour later Julia and Alan stood facing each other in the bedroom. She was wearing the same décolleté dress as seen earlier on Suzi Dawson. Underneath she wore a rather plain pair of knickers and a brief bikini. Her hair had been released from its pins and tumbled down the sides of her face, looking slightly unkempt. "Helps to hide your features," the Director explained. "I intend to start by walking you through the moves we've been rehearsing for the last two days." He sighed at the thought of so much wasted time. "Alan is familiar with the choreography of the scene, so relax and let him guide you." Julia nervously smiled. "It'll be a pleasure." "There's been some dialogue setting up the situation." Alan put his arms round her; it was a strong, firm embrace. "Cathy has willingly come to Heathcliff in defiance of her brother. They kiss; long, passionate kiss." He gave her cheek a light peck. "Won't my face be seen?" Julia asked. "Not yours," the Director replied. "Ms. Dawson's sweet features will fill the screen. A kiss she'll do. Anything more....." he shook his head. "Heathcliff unfastens her dress." Alan suited the action to the word, pulling the flimsy garment forward, off her shoulder, then allowing it to fall to the ground." "At this point you'll be naked except for the knickers." The Director looked at her critically. "All right?" "Yes. Is this thin dress all they wore?" "It was the fashion." "It's more like a nightdress. They must have been frozen in a climate like ours." Alan grinned at her. "It's very sexy, don't you think?" "Shivering from top to toe isn't much of a turn-on." "Right. The dress is off, now he pulls down your knickers so you're completely naked." "There'll be a facial shot of our star," the cameraman explained, "but the body will be yours." "Very nice, too," Alan murmured. Julia blushed. He slowly sank to his knees, planting kisses all over her, including her breasts, still protected by the bikini. He removed her knickers and buried his head in her crotch. She felt embarrassed as a little vaginal juice escaped and trickled down her leg. "You bend over him," the Director instructed, "and pull the shirt out of his breeches, then off above his head." "You want me to do that?" "Yes." She did, but there was an awkward tangle of head and arms before the garment was free. They laughed. "Don't worry," said the Director. "This is a first run-through and you learn by your mistakes. Right, shirt is off. He tongues your pussy while you are bent over his back, arms stretched and hands inside his breeches, cupping his buttocks. Now he's going to put you on his shoulder, stand up, swing round and lay you on the bed." It was easier said than done. With a great many grunts and a deal of effort, Alan followed the directions, collapsing on top of Julia as soon as she was on the bed. His heavy breathing had nothing to do with sexual arousal. She giggled. "Not much of a Tarzan." "All he had to do was swing from trees, not pick Jane up from a crouching position. I don't want to do that too often." He turned over on his back, still breathing deeply, then heaved himself up. "You could make a girl self-conscious about her weight," Julia scolded. "Yes, I know and I'm sorry. You're not over-weight, I assure you, but lifting from that position is damned difficult. Especially when I'm supposed to make it look effortless. Right, I'm ready for the next step. Standing over the bed, Cathy is laid out naked. I undo my breeches, pull them off, go down on top of her." He did. The small amount of covering separating their most intimate parts did nothing to prevent Julia reacting to the firm, male body pressing her down into the mattress. She was conscious of his manhood, safely hidden beneath his shorts, and her own heart beating fast. She could feel the heat of sex rising in her. "We kiss....long and passionate." She longed for him to do that. "Then I take your breasts. Caress...kiss." Oh, yes, please! "Work my way down to your thighs, then between them. Using my tongue...." Oh, God! Never mind rehearsing. "Then move back up, position myself for entry and....bingo!" "That'll do for starters." The Director interrupted. "Clothes back on and we'll run it again. I want it as smooth as clockwork - including lifting her onto the bed." "Yes, sir." Alan made a mock salute. They rehearsed the sequence several times until it was, indeed, smooth and seamless. By this time there was no embarrassment between them and it seemed as if their bodies really did belong to each other. "Splendid!" cried the Director. "Ready for the moment of truth?" "What do you mean?" Julia innocently enquired. "Go through the routine again - naked." Julia smiled. "Oh, is that all?" It was a good day's work and everybody was pleased, especially with the amateur body double, who put more sparks into her work than the star herself. The following day it would be for real. ***** "I want you to play this scene as naturally as you can." The Director was giving them last minute instructions. "Forget the cameras, forget we're here. There's just the two of you - Cathy and Heathcliff. You're both wild and passionate, demanding sexual satisfaction, but you're also tender and loving. The rehearsals yesterday were great. My intention is to let you two guys go; one take, no stopping. When we see the result we can go back and do anything extra if required. Okay?" Alan nodded. "Fine." Julia felt herself shaking slightly in anticipation. "Yes. Great." The Director looked around at his camera positions. "All right. Let's do it." "Rolling." The cameraman was looking through his viewfinder. "Action." Alan waited for three beats, then cupped Julia's face in his hands. He gazed intently into her eyes for a long moment before tentatively kissing her lips. More kisses followed in quick succession, each one more ardent than its predecessor until, finally, he gave her a long, deep kiss rocking her back on her heels. Her body flushed with the heat of desire and there was a familiar dampness between her legs. Alan unfastened her dress and slid his arms inside, kissing her once more as he held her close and ran his hands up and down her naked back. She was weak at the knees. With his hands on her shoulders he pulled the dress off. It cascaded to the floor behind her, leaving her naked, except for the knickers, and vulnerable. Body Double They followed through the choreography of the scene as laid out the previous day, step by step. Julia had no idea what the cameras were recording, but acted by instinct and did what she would have done if this wasn't a movie. When they were both naked and Alan/Heathcliff was coming down onto her, she was aware of a trim, firm body, a chest with a light, fluffy covering of dark hair and a rampant penis. They held each other in a tight embrace. His hands caressed her breasts, lightly squeezing them, lifting the nipples. His tongue slowly circled and teased and then he pressed his lips to them, sucking the teats into small, hard balls. Julia could feel his penis pressing into her upper thigh, dormant, but stiff and thick, ready for action. This was only pretend, she kept telling herself. The cameras would make it look like it had actually happened, but they were only faking. She moaned softly as a hand rubbed lightly around her pubic area. Alan was giving her butterfly kisses, across and down her torso until, suddenly, his lips were brushing her inner thighs. The portable camera had moved behind her and was shooting down towards Alan, but she was barely aware of it as she held her breath waiting for his next move. She knew what it ought to be, but could hardly believe he was going to do it. She was right. He wasn't. His lips were close to her vulva - oh, so tantalisingly close - but he only pretended to use his tongue on her clitoris. She was aware enough to realise it would look convincing to the audience; she also knew an appropriate reaction from her would not go amiss. She groaned, writhed and squirmed. Alan kissed his way back up to her breasts, then her lips and positioned himself for penetration. Once again she felt his hard penis against her leg. He began rhythmically pushing back and forth as if he was inside her. She longed for it. She didn't care if there were people watching and cameras recording everything, she wanted his hardness in her vagina. The lips were open in expectation; her juices were flowing. She mentally willed him to lose control and give her what she craved. Alan gasped, stopped pumping, went rigid, then collapsed over in the throes of a climax; only it wasn't. His penis still lay along her thigh, as erect as before, and with no evidence of semen. Julia not only felt disappointed, but hurt that she apparently had so little effect on him. "Cut." Alan sat up and grinned, completely unaffected by his close encounter with Julia's most intimate parts. The hurt turned to annoyance. "You were great." "Not great enough apparently." She rolled off the bed and snatched a dressing gown proffered by the Director. Encasing herself in its folds, she clutched it tightly around her. The Director gave her a peck on the cheek. "No, no, lovey. You were perfect. That'll be a good scene once we've cut it together, added a John Barry music track and a few facial shots of our glorious star. What the hell she's so touchy about I can't imagine. After all, the great movie public are going to believe it's her body they're gaping at, so I don't know what she thinks she's achieved." They had a short break for coffee and some light adjustments, then took more footage of male and female - mostly the latter - nakedness and some reaction shots. By the end of the day it was all in the can and everyone was satisfied; except Julia. All the time she kept telling herself that it was nothing personal. Alan was expected to fake it and he did; brilliantly. The trouble was, she found him extremely desirable and had no wish to pretend anything. As he was about to depart the set Alan embraced and kissed her with rather more intensity than was required. "I've really enjoyed working with you," he murmured. He left. "Good actor," said the Director. "He could have a great future." "Um." Julia nodded. Good, bad or indifferent as an actor, she knew she wanted Alan Drury. "You're going to get paid for today, of course, but I want to give you a gift. A memento of the movie. Anything. Name it." "The bed." The Director laughed. "Sure. It's yours." ***** Julia stood at the window, gazing out at the garden and remembered how it used to look when she was a child. It had been so pretty with its neatly trimmed hedges and the grass cut short. Her favourite spot was down a short flight of stone steps into a little circular area of grass with a low wall. In the centre was a small statue - a naked boy on a plinth carrying a large plate above his head. As a girl she'd always wondered why he was naked and why he was carrying a plate. There was no answer, of course, but it made a nice bird bath and seemed to attract plenty of feathered visitors. Now it was all different. The hedges were overgrown, and the grass too long. Her father had lost heart. There had been too many years of neglect. Of course, the view across the valley was just the same; nothing would change that - unless the heavy hand of man was felt. Unfortunately, that time was soon coming. The tentacles of suburbia were spreading wider and wider. The countryside here was still unspoilt, but for how much longer? A showery autumn day reflected Julia's melancholic mood. There was no sound except the song of birds, the ticking of a clock and the pitter-patter of heavy rain. A few minutes earlier it had been bright sunshine and blue skies; now the whole vista was transformed. She sighed again and turned away from the window to look round the room. The familiar pictures on the wall; several seascapes, of course. Her father had been fond of the sea. Books, old furniture, a carpet that was now a little thread-bare, the ticking clock on the mantelpiece and, on each side of it, photographs of her parents. It had all been so different a week ago when the film company was located here and when she had been a body double. Simulated sex for a film. That's all it was. Imaginary and meaningless to the actor, Alan Drury. He dismissed her from his mind as soon as the cameras stopped rolling. A tear of self-pity rolled down her cheek. "You're being ridiculous," she scolded herself. "Pull yourself together. So what if he was completely under-whelmed by you. You can't expect to turn on every man who holds you naked in his arms." She began the work of sorting items for clearing out the cottage. A FOR SALE notice was already fixed outside and advertisements had been placed in the relevant papers. All that remained was to dispose of all her parents' possessions. She picked up a clock. It was an old clock; older, even, than her parents had been. It had outlasted them both; it would probably outlast her. A sudden, agitated knocking on the door brought her out of her reverie. Julia opened it and found Jonty Trevalyan on the doorstep. He was dripping wet, bedraggled and inadequately dressed for walking on the moors. "For God's sake let me in. It's very wet out here." "I've noticed." Julia smiled. "You don't seem to have come prepared for rain." "I didn't come prepared to trudge along country lanes for miles." "What's happened?" "I was on my way here when my car broke down. It was bright sunshine and a clear sky when I abandoned it. I seem fated to get caught in the rain when I come here. I can't believe how quickly it's changed." "It's very unpredictable on the moors. Please come in." Julia closed the door. "You were on your way here?" Jonty nodded. "Um. I wanted to show a little appreciation for all your help last week. Making tea etcetera. Especially the etcetera." Julia blushed at the implication and the remembrance of her total nudity in front of several people - including Jonty. "I've brought some wine with me, but of course, that got left behind in the damned car." "Never mind. I've got a nice fire going. Sit by it and dry off. I'll put the kettle on for some tea." She paused in the doorway. "Or coffee if you prefer." "No, no. Tea's fine. Thanks very much." When Julia returned from the kitchen carrying a tray loaded with teapot, cups, saucers, sugar, milk, plates and biscuits she found steam coming off her visitor's clothes. "The fire seems to be doing its job." "Um." He felt the sleeve of his jumper. "I got pretty wet." "Probably best not to sit around in all your wet clothes." She looked critically at him. "I should say you and father were about the same size. We'll find something for you to change into." "I can't put you to so much trouble." "No trouble. Looking after my guest, that's all." "Your uninvited guest." "I'm pleased you're here. I'll get you fixed up." They chose a checked shirt and brown corduroys. The fit was remarkably good. Julia thought Jonty looked very handsome in her father's clothes. In the warmth of the room and the fading autumn light they chattered about everything except 'Wuthering Heights'. Julia spoke of her father and his love of education. He was a university professor who wanted his daughter to distinguish herself academically. But she had a casual attitude to school and failed to get the best grades. "I was a great disappointment to him. Whenever we met we'd argue. Mind you, that wasn't very often. The rift was deep and permanent." Julia tried to stop the tears, but it was no good. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. After a moment's hesitation, Jonty joined her on settee and pulled her head down onto his shoulder. Perhaps it was the cosy atmosphere; a darkening room lit only be firelight. Or perhaps it was the relief of exorcising the ghosts of her past with a near stranger. Whatever the reason, Julia found herself relaxing in his arms, feeling the strength of his embrace. The kisses that followed were inevitable. Gentle kisses as his lips lightly brushed hers, then her nose, eyes and ears. There was a familiar stirring deep within her. She was overpowered by desire; desire for this man to whom she had imparted her innermost secrets. She wanted to press her bare breasts against his naked chest and feel his hard penis caressing her pubic hair. Only this time there were no cameras and no rules about how far to go. He wanted it, too, there was no doubt of that. Whether it began by him unbuttoning her blouse or she first unzipped his trousers mattered not a jot. The end result was the same. Their clothes were discarded quickly and smoothly, with none of the usual fumbling and clumsiness. They lay naked together on the rug in front of the fire, not bothering to put on any lights. The flickering glow of burning coal was all the illumination they needed. Their hands lightly explored the contours of the other's body. Her nipples were small, tight, hardened buds nestling in the furry hair that covered Jonty's chest. She was aware of every little ripple as he breathed in and out. His penis, erect and ready to penetrate the dark depths of her vagina, lay along her stomach. It beat with the steady rhythm of life. They were not in a hurry. There was contentment in lying clasped in each other's arms, the world around them reduced to the rug and the fire. He traced a finger around the cheeks of her bottom and along the crack between. She shuddered slightly at his touch. "Cold?" he mischievously enquired. "No. Aroused." "That's good." His fingers gently pushed into her crack and brushed the lips of her vulva. "Oh," she moaned. Her legs parted slightly in automatic response to his probing finger. Jonty slowly and delicately ran his tongue around her earlobe, nuzzled the tip, then kissed the nape of her neck. "You have the most wonderful soft skin," murmured Jonty. He stroked her back with a long, lazy movement. She reacted to his touch by pushing even closer to his lithe body. The heat of sex swept across her, colouring the skin around her breasts and making her pubic area hot with desire. She could feel her juices, stirred by the action of his finger and dripping onto the rug. "Take me," she urged. Jonty rolled her onto her back, lifted her legs onto his shoulders, fully exposing the open vulva, and sank his manhood all the way into the velvet depths of her vagina. She clutched hard on his arms, her nails digging into his skin as he worked his penis up and down, round and round, pushing it against her womb. Julia had her eyes closed, but briefly opened them to find Jonty staring at her face, watching and waiting for the change of expression when she obtained an orgasm. What would he see, she wondered. She had never seen herself, nor any other woman, at that moment. "Come, come, come," Jonty chanted, emphasising each word with a quick jab of his penis. Julia needed little encouragement. Her eyes were tightly shut and mouth open; her breathing was a series of heavy pants. She was on the brink. "Do you want me to pull out?" "What?" Her eyes opened at the unexpected interruption. "Do you want me to ejaculate over your body instead of in your vagina?" He had stopped his movement. "No, no." She felt betrayed by his analytical appraisal of the situation. He should have been swept away, like her, on an uncontrollable wave of lust. "I want all of you inside. Cock, semen - everything." "I wasn't sure whether...." "Do it!" she screamed. "Don't worry. Just do it. Fill me with your spunk." He did. She thrashed around, shouted out and dug her nails even deeper into his arms as a massive orgasm overwhelmed her. Jonty echoed her cry with a more subdued gasp, his whole body becoming tensed. After a while, when their muscles were more relaxed, he withdrew from her. His penis was a little less rigid, a touch more soft, but still proudly standing erect. She reached for it and lovingly stroked her fingers along its length. This had so recently been a part of her; a wonderful, magical part that had given her unimaginable pleasure. It was slightly sticky with a mixture of his spunk and her juices. Jonty lowered her legs from his shoulders and shuffled forward on his knees until he was astride her. She pressed her breasts around his penis, enveloping it in the soft folds of flesh. A few remaining droplets of his semen dripped down onto her skin. He leaned forward and they held a long kiss, using their tongues as well as lips. With a long, deep sigh, Jonty rolled off Julia and lay next to her. They were both breathing in short gasps. After a few moments Jonty chuckled. "What's funny?" Julia demanded. "I was just thinking about poor Alan. Holding you naked in his arms and unable to take advantage of the situation." "As far as I'm concerned he didn't want to take advantage. He seemed completely impervious to my charms." "Ah, that's where you're wrong. He was more frustrated than you can imagine." "He didn't show it." "Maybe not, but he's a happily married man who's very protective of his reputation. Believe me, he'd love to be where I am now." "And where are you?" "Heaven." He wiped some spunk off her cheek with his finger and grinned. Julia giggled and leaned over to kiss him. At the same time her hand found his limp penis and she began to work on it. With a bit of luck and patience it would come back to life again!