by Chloe Gillis
Clarissa let out a huge sigh. So now it was stalemate! What to do? Finally, around midnight, she worked out a plan. She would go to Bruce’s room and hide behind the screen in the corner. When he was safely in bed, she would tiptoe out, climb right into bed with him, and force him to show his hand. Honesty would have to be the best policy. Bruce was a gentleman and would feel compelled to tell Chauncey the truth.
Silently, she got out of bed, slipped her silk robe over her shoulders, and tiptoed out of her room. The guests were in another wing of the house. Clarissa was nearly turned around and headed for the scullery before she found the proper hallway. She had accompanied Lady Edith when the guests had arrived and helped show them to their rooms, so she remembered that Bruce had the room off the far end of the upstairs gallery.
She put her ear to the door. She could hear water in the bathroom. He was undoubtedly getting ready for bed. Slowly, she pushed the door open, hoping it wouldn’t creak. Bruce was humming in the bathroom. Clarissa slipped through the door and shut it carefully behind her. She quickly ducked behind the oriental screen in the corner of the room and waited, her heart pounding.
The room was very dimly lit by a small lamp on the bedside table. Clarissa heard Bruce humming as he came out of the bathroom. She peeked through the narrow slit between the panels of the screen. Bruce stood beside the bed, holding a towel. He was completely nude. Clarissa saw with a thrill that her suspicions were indeed true. He was beautifully proportioned, with long, clean limbs, and clearly defined muscles. A powerful chest smoothed into a taut stomach and groin. His cock, at ease, was, again to Clarissa’s delight, more than ample.
Suddenly, Clarissa heard a light tap at the door. She held her breath, still peeking out the slit. She watched as Bruce approached the door.
“Who is it?” he said softly. Somebody mumbled something from the other side. Bruce opened the door, still stark naked.
“Is everybody asleep?” Bruce asked.
“Yes. The house is quiet.” It was Chauncey. Clarissa’s heart beat furiously. What could Chauncey want at this hour? Perhaps to discuss her! She waited, her eye glued to the slit between the panels. She saw Chauncey step through the door and lock it behind him.
“My dearest,” he said.
Clarissa’s blood ran cold! How could they have seen her? She froze, waiting for them to step behind the screen. Then, suddenly, what she saw left no question in her mind as to the nature of the situation. Chauncey took the naked Bruce in his arms and kissed him, long and deeply, on the mouth. Bruce’s back was toward her, and she followed Chauncey’s hand as it slipped down Bruce’s ribcage and came to rest on his firm buttocks. Chauncey gave a gentle squeeze.
Bruce began to unbutton Chauncey’s shirt. “It seems to have worked out beautifully,” he said.
“What is that?”
“The situation with Clarissa. We now have a legitimate reason to live under the same roof on an at least semi-permanent basis!”
“We do, indeed! She’s a rather capital girl, Clarissa is! Hurry, my dear. Jones is positively straining to be free!”
Clarissa watched, half shocked, half mesmerized, as Bruce unbuckled Chauncey’s belt and tugged his trousers down to the floor. Chauncey’s cock, of impressive size, sprung forward, erect and eager. Bruce went down on his knees. Taking the formidable member in his hands, he massaged and stroked it and at last wrapped his lips around it.
A gasp of delight issued forth from Chauncey. He thrust back and forth a bit, in and out of Bruce’s mouth. Clarissa had a clear view of the whole proceeding. Bruce’s hands were wrapped around Chauncey’s buttocks, stroking and squeezing them. He worked his fingers between Chauncey’s tight cheeks, exploring and prodding. Out of courtesy, Clarissa wanted to look away, but the growing warmth and tingling between her legs kept her focused on the unfolding scene on the other side of the screen.
Bruce stood up, and Chauncey led him to the bed. They lay side by side, gently caressing each other’s cocks. Bruce slid down in the bed and once again took Chauncey’s cock into his mouth. He began to slide his lips up and down the stiff shaft.
Chauncey moaned and writhed. “Faster!” he whispered. “Harder!”
Bruce teasingly chuckled and just licked around the tip. Chauncey heaved his hips. “Make me come!” he begged.
Now Bruce began to suck in earnest, all the while his one hand tight was wrapped around Chauncey’s cock as the other was fondling between Chauncey’s legs, pushing and prodding. Chauncey spread his legs wide to allow Bruce access to the tight sphincter throbbing there. Bruce buried two fingers, kneading and pushing. Suddenly Chauncey gave a great gasp and moan. He shuddered. Bruce sat up, his fingers still working in Chauncey’s arse.
“Come! Come for me,” he urged Chauncey. “I want to see it!”
Chauncey moaned and bucked on the bed, and ejaculate spewed out of his rigid cock onto his chest and belly. He lay panting. Bruce bent down and tenderly kissed him.
“I want to come inside you now,” Clarissa heard him say.
This is what Eleanora had told her about. Anybody could love anybody they chose. Two men, two women, a man and a woman. It made no difference. The passion between these two lovers was every bit as intense as it had been between Clarissa and Andrew or Clarissa and Roger Downs. More, perhaps, thought Clarissa guiltily, because she did not truly love either Andrew or Roger.
Chauncey raised himself and, bending forward, took Bruce’s erect cock in both hands. Reaching into the bedside table, Bruce brought out a small jar and handed it, smiling, to Chauncey. Chauncey opened it and dipped his fingers into it. Clarissa watched as he rubbed Bruce’s cock shiny with the ointment. Then he handed the jar back to Bruce, turned over onto his stomach and opened his legs. Bruce knelt between them and spread Chauncey’s buttocks wide. He took a big dollop of the salve and rubbed it all around and into Chauncey’s already worked arse.
Clarissa clenched her cunt in anticipation. She reached down into her pajamas, finding the sweetest spot with her finger as she watched. Bruce placed the head of his cock between the cheeks of Chauncey’s arse. Playfully, he spanked the man.
“Ask for it,” he whispered. “Ask for my cock in your arse.”
“Give it to me. Fuck me,” begged Chauncey.
Bruce pushed. Chauncey gasped as Bruce’s cock entered him. Bruce began to thrust. He held Chauncey’s hips, pushing and pulling his cock in and out.
“Oh, you’re divine!” he moaned ecstatically. “I live to fuck you!” Bruce fucked faster as Chauncey moaned more loudly and gripped the coverlet of the bed.
Clarissa was caught up in the excitement and began to fuck herself with her fingers. She rubbed her clit, squeezing and pulling it.
At last Bruce cried out and fell forward onto Chauncey’s supine form. He jerked and moaned and finally rolled off onto the bed. The two lay panting together, holding hands.
“I love you,” Clarissa heard Bruce whisper.
And Chauncey whispered back, “I love you, too. Dearly!”
Clarissa gave a little spasm, coming at her own touch. She gasped and immediately regretted it. They heard her!
“Who’s there?” barked Bruce. Both men struggled to pull the coverlet around them.
Hanging her head, Clarissa crept out from behind the screen. She gazed at them sitting on the bed, the coverlet pulled around them, making them look like a two-headed man.
“Clarissa!” Chauncey could barely get the word out. He and Bruce looked at each other.
Clarissa began to cry silently. Tears she couldn’t stop trickled down her flushed cheeks.
“Forgive me!” she begged them, “Forgive me! I didn’t intend to intrude. Truly I didn’t! I had no idea! I had no idea! I was hiding in here to…well, to try to get Bruce into a compromising position.”
“Explain yourself!” demanded Bruce.
Clarissa’s face felt hot. Her hands began to sweat. She talked faster. “I-I well, you see, I had rather a bit of a crush on you, Bruce. Dear
Bruce. I thought you liked me back. I never presumed for a moment…” Clarissa stopped. The truth hit her hard. She blurted out, “I never presumed for a second that you and Chauncey were-were so in love! Oh, dear! Oh, dear! I am so, so ashamed of myself!”
Chauncey rose from the bed and slipped into a silk robe, tying it about his waist. Bruce reached down, picked up his discarded bath towel, and pulled it around himself.
Bruce was the first to speak. “Come sit by me, Clarissa.”
Obediently, she went and sat beside him on the edge of the bed, then stared at the floor. Had she alienated two jolly new friends for the sake of relieving her boredom? She felt so utterly selfish. Chauncey sat on the other side of her.
“What will you do?” he asked her in an odd, flat tone.
Clarissa did not understand. Her brow furrowed with the effort of making sense of the situation. “What do you mean?” she asked.
Bruce spoke softly, as he put a gentle hand on her arm. “Clarissa, please do not speak of this to anybody. Awful things could happen to us. We could be separated. Chauncey and I could very well end up in jail!”
Clarissa met his eye with horror. “Oh, dear! Of course I won’t mention it to a soul. This is your love, and you are so very fortunate to have each other.” She whimpered a little at the thought of herself being alone and unloved. Chauncey patted her hand.
“There, there,” he said, “no harm done. Bruce and I have been in love since we met at Eton.” He gazed off into space. “Remember, Bruce? I was in my final year and you were a fresh-faced first year!”
Bruce said, “I followed you to Oxford.” He looked at Clarissa. “It was there we made our love known to each other. We have been inseparable ever since.”
“How wonderful!” sighed Clarissa. Then she ventured, “Does this mean I won’t be going with you to London?”
Spontaneously, Chauncey threw both arms around her and hugged her to him. “Oh, my dear, darling girl! You are the answer to our prayers! With you in residence in Bruce’s flat, it is the perfect cover for us to at last share a domicile! And the reporter’s job is very sincere. You are a talented girl, and now, we find, compassionate as well!” Bruce wrapped them in his arms, and they both hugged her tight.
Clarissa, filled with warmth, could not deny her feelings of affection for both of them.
By ten o’clock the next morning, Clarissa had risen, dressed, and finished her breakfast. Lizzie had packed her belongings in her trunk and overnight bag. She stood on the front steps in her smart little traveling suit with Lord Terrance and Lady Edith, Sir Anderson and Lady Anne.
“Where are those boys?” asked Lady Anne, fidgeting.
Lady Edith bent toward her and said with a sly smile, “And they say women are always delayed!”
As if in answer to her concern, Bruce suddenly appeared, followed by Chauncey and two boys carrying their luggage.
“Good morning, Mother,” said Bruce, kissing Lady Anne on the cheek. “Where’s the car?”
Lord Terrence spoke up. “It’ll be around shortly. So sorry to see you young people go! You should stay another week, until Annabelle and William return.”
Lady Edith chided him. “Oh, my dear, they are young and the city calls!”
Just then, the Bentley rounded the corner and came to a halt in front of the little group.
“Well, here we are,” said Bruce.
“And here we go,” laughed Chauncey.
Good-byes were said all round, the chauffeur opened the door, and the traveling trio climbed aboard. Clarissa settled herself between her two gentleman escorts and positively beamed at the prospect of the adventures that awaited her.
Part Five
Clarissa Closes Her Eyes and Does It for England
THE FLAT IN LONDON WAS ADORABLE. Clarissa gave little squeals of delight as Bruce and Chauncey gave her the tour and helped her settle in. Art Deco prevailed, with a nod here and there to modernism. A bronze greyhound, nearly as tall as Clarissa, sat in the foyer. Bruce flung his fedora expertly as they passed the statue and the hat settled upon the head of the dog.
The foyer was ample, with a large coat closet. Four stairs led down on one side and four up on the opposite side. The floor was covered with the latest linoleum design of black and white geometric shapes, and a gilt mirror hung on the wall opposite the front door over a darling little crescent table upon which sat a shallow, shell-shaped silver dish.
Bruce led her up the stairs, chatting excitedly. Chauncey brought up the rear.
“Oh, my dear girl,” gushed Bruce, “you will love it here! I do, but of course, I am ecstatic to be moving in with Chaunce! Righto, Chauncey, old chum?”
Chauncey heaved a sigh as he followed them up the stairs. “I only hope I did not make a terrible error in judgment!” he said sarcastically to Clarissa. “I do value my private time! Even though I love you to pieces, dear!” He winked at Clarissa as he shot this last barb beyond her to Bruce, who was opening the door at the top of the stairs.
“Have no fear! Your house is big enough for the both of us. And we are lovely big blokes, if I do say so myself!” He turned to Clarissa. “You should see Chauncey’s house! Which you will. Syrie Maugham did it. It’s fantastic!”
Clarissa and Chauncey both followed him through the door. Clarissa was charmed. There were two reception rooms, both with fireplaces, on either side of a center hall. The Art Deco theme prevailed. Besides the reception rooms, there was a small office at the end of the hall, replete with a typewriter and a beautiful view of the neighborhood. Through the arched glass doors of the smaller reception room was a spacious dining room lit with a crystal and brass chandelier and crystal wall sconces. Beyond the dining room were three bedrooms. The biggest bedroom had its own en suite bath. Across the hall were two more bedrooms with a bath in between. There were parquet floors and Persian carpets throughout.
“This will be your bedroom,” said Bruce, gesturing to the large en suite room. “You will love it. It faces east, so the sun smiles in every morning, and the view of the city is fabulous!”
Chauncey was carrying Clarissa’s small duffle. “Bruce’s man, Dutton, will bring up the rest of the luggage.”
Bruce took her by the hand. “Yes, yes,” he said. “Let’s go downstairs. It’s the domain of Dutton and his wife, who keeps the house, but you should know where to find them. They have a small apartment down there off the kitchen. They’re capital folks! They’ll tend to your every need and you won’t be alone here. Of course, you may call for me or Chauncey at any hour of the day or night.”
Clarissa followed the boys downstairs and met the Duttons. Mr. Dutton was a tall, lean, gray-haired man, quite distinguished looking. He was dressed in an immaculate black suit with a crisp, snowy white shirt. Mrs. Dutton was a very attractive woman, about fifty. Despite her conservative dress in a gray frock with starched white apron and high collar, her voluptuous figure was very evident. She wore her gray hair in a bun at the back of her head, secured with two ornate hair sticks. She gave Clarissa a big smile.
“Welcome! Welcome!” she said. “You just make yourself to home, dearie. Mr. Dutton and I will see to anything you find yourself wanting.” She wrapped Clarissa in a warm hug and kissed her lightly on the cheek. She smelled heavenly.
Taking Clarissa’s hand, she pointed to what appeared to Clarissa to be a complicated electrical panel on the wall by the kitchen door. “There’s a button on the wall beside your bed, dearie. When you wake up in the morning, just press that button and I will bring you your tea and breakfast.”
“Why, thank you,” said Clarissa.
“You will also find a similar button in the office,” put in Mr. Dutton. “If you need any sustenance or assistance while you are working, simply press the buzzer.”
It was all very satisfactory, thought Clarissa, as she stood in her new bedroom an hour later and looked around. Bruce and Chauncey had departed for Chauncey’s house. Clarissa had kissed them both good-bye and promised to show up at sev
en o’clock for cocktails and dinner. Chauncey promised there would be some people there from the paper whom she must meet, perhaps even the editor himself.
“I would have invited people from the bank,” quipped Bruce as they walked out the door. “Unfortunately, they are so frightfully dry!”
Clarissa’s first week was so busy, she felt absolutely swept up into another world. The city was intoxicating. The pulse of the Tribune offices appealed to Clarissa’s sense of adventure. There was so much going on. The clatter of typewriters and the rise and fall of voices. Phones ringing, doors slamming, the more than occasional curse word.
Because of the nature of her assignments, Clarissa did not have to appear every day, but she chose to go in anyway. The energy of the offices rejuvenated and excited her. She was also eager to meet new people and embark on new adventures. She longed to have somebody special to share adventures with. She thought suddenly of the handsome stranger from the wedding, whom she had not seen since. Somebody like him, or at least, whom she perceived him to be. However, Chauncey was always available, checking on her during the day, making sure she was happy and settling in to the chaos of the newspaper. She had yet to meet editor-in-chief Adam MacLaren. Assignments were apparently devised in meetings between MacLaren and the editors of the different departments. Hers were delivered to her via the ever-attentive Chauncey, editor of the Social Pages.
Clarissa also found herself fortunate in Chauncey’s choice of assistants for her. Clarissa’s assistant was a tall, rather athletic girl by the name of Kitty Brown. Kitty was a bit older than Clarissa and did not have bobbed hair. She wore her thick brown locks in a bun at the nape of her neck. She also wore black rimmed glasses. Clarissa thought they were too heavy and gave her a harsh look that she needn’t carry. Kitty was pleasant, but kept her distance, sticking to her job as copy editor and researcher, rather than trying to become friends, but Kitty was nothing if not capable, and Clarissa was grateful that she made her look good in this new position.
