Chapter 45X: Master of Cere(moan)ies (Patreon)

DISCLAIMER:
This chapter officially ends Bas’ celibacy and finally pays off all the flirting he has been subjected to. Enjoy the latter half of the chap!

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Chapter 45X: Master of Cere(moan)ies

Outside Bas’ Caravan, Leavesden. April 2009.

“Dearly beloved, we gather today not to mourn a loss, but to celebrate the life of a dear friend.” Funerals weren’t my jam, especially at such an early stage in life. But this one… this one hurt. Few, if any, would attend these last rites - hell, I personally was having to sub in for the minister. “To my great shame, the number of people who will ever honour your sacrifice is vanishingly small. But it isn’t a stretch to say that without you, I’d scarcely be alive, hale, or healthy. You gave so much of yourself to me and I-I-I….” The tears I’d put so much effort into damming, swelled to capacity, blurred my vision, before overflowing and spilling down cheeks. 

A hand, bearing the warmth of comfort and consolation, laid itself on my trembling shoulder. “Mr Rhys, enough.” Fedex offered commiserations beside me.

Once the choking on my larynx subsided, I gathered myself. The salty tears collecting between my quivering lips added a poignant flavour to my eulogy. “My apologies…. Iet my emotions get the better of me, ahem!” Throat cleared, I sniffed in my dribbling snot, and shook my head to ward off the last vestiges of my outward turmoil. “You gave so much of yourself to me, and the best I can do for you is a shallow, unmarked grave. This is far, far less than you deserve, yet I can offer you no more. Otherwise, I risk undoing all your hard work.”

“Bas, this is a joke, no?” Everyone grieves in their own way. Denial was merely the very first step of it. In time, Fedex too, would have to address her stunted sorrow. 

“It’s okay, Fed. I understand if this is too painful for you, but I have just one last request. Would you please sing? Something sombre. I’d do it myself, but I’d rather the rozzers not mar this day with another noise complaint. Ave Maria might suit the occasion.” 

“Sei fuori!” Her finger circled her temple, as if to say I was out of my mind. 

No backing track accompanied me on my way down. Poor ol’ girl. She remained tongue tied while my legs buckled and I knelt to deposit the bouquet of flowers inside the grave. 

I say bouquet, but it was a single, artificial flower - more just a couple of petals, really. The morning dew soaked into the silk threads of my bottoms as I gently laid my Tenga Air-Tech re-useable male masturbator (complete with vacuum suction capability) to rest next to the most recent issue of Good Housekeeping magazine, and finally an external hard drive - packed with more hours of porn than the entire runtime of all my movies combined. 

So, just what I’d downloaded in the last couple of weeks. “You will have your revenge, my loves. I vow I shall murder the pussy that did this to you!” 

My piece said, I glanced up at Fedex; encouragingly nodding at her to offload her heavy chest before I let my portable Dutch wife forever rest in peace. Her thumb and forefinger pinched achingly at the middle of her brow, no doubt stymying the liquid lament threatening to pour out. “Would you like to say a few final words?” This was important for her, too; the death of my dry spell marked the end of her tutorial phase. 

Tabloids shouldn’t expect to photograph me frothing at the mouth, a half eaten leaflet of viagra in one hand and a slippery bottle of lube in the other, as I tried and failed to douse an inferno rising off my crotch because of both venereal disease and friction burns. But now that the penalties warranted plain gossip rather than a trip to the gulag for my potential partners, I was more inclined to allow myself a libido. 

“Since we are burying things that should never again see the light of day.” She shot a scathing look down into the hastily dug ditch. Anger, the second stage of grief. “Add this to the pile.” Reaching into her pocket, Fedex slipped out what looked to me like one of the memory cards we used in our handy cams. She snapped it in half and tossed it into the hole with the rest of my memorabilia. 

“What’s that?”

“Your carelessness made manifest. It held the evidence of your current tryst. Not exactly a full-blown sex tape - but the footage inside will have left too little and far too much to the public’s imagination.”

Abandoning all hesitation, I leaned over, scooped the soil, and patted the filled grave with fond reverence. “The first of many.” My life wouldn’t devolve into debauchery, but whenever the opportunities presented themselves, Fedex’s temporary title was gonna be man-whore-cover. 

“As reassuring as that is for the longevity of my career, perhaps we should both return to our duties. I have a perimeter check to perform.” 

“Yeah, probs for the best. I’ve had my fun-” eral.

Then she sauntered up to me as I stood up while dusting the dirt off my hands on my jammies. I was a good head taller than her, so as she got to her tip-toes, I had to dip my neck so she could get close enough to my ear to whisper into it. “And I believe you, Mr Rhys, have to get back to buttering your croissant.” 

Not for one delusional moment did I consider she was hitting on me in any way. “You can’t do that. That’s not fair!” With that sultry tone and image, even Ralph in full Voldemort regalia would have got the same waistband stretching reaction out of me. 

Done teasing, she flicked me on my forehead and walked away. “Enjoy your breakfast, Bas.”

I stared down at (no longer) little old me. “Good thing the impromptu cemetery is only ten feet away from the caravan. If I got caught roaming around with you, they’d lop you right off.”

xxx

Inside Bas’ Caravan, Leavesden. April 2009.

The French, I’ve recently learnt, have a complicated relationship with modesty. In that, they have very little use for it.

Lea Seydoux stepped out of my shower as I hopped back into my abode. Sure, she had a towel; but it was currently far too busy tussling her dyed silver tresses to cover anything below her eyebrows. “Good morning, mon charo.” Initially, I thought Lea was calling me mon cheri - my darling - in a dialect I’d never heard. Come to find out the recent term of endearment she’d stamped me with meant something very different. She’d been casually calling me her fuckboy - in public, I might add.

I ought to have responded to the greeting. It was the polite thing to do; but her sudden naked arrival turned me into a rude lummox. My brain couldn’t complete a line of thought, and neither could my eyes follow a line of sight. Both were far too busy rattling inside their respective sockets - and for good reason. 

Her entire sinful figure was on display for me as Lea’s continued towelling jostled and jiggled her in rhythm with my own throbbing pulse. 

Every contour of flexing muscle, every droplet of water molesting her glossy skin that begged me to lick it off. Every perfectly shaped curve of softness sent an itchy wave of static under the skin of palms, begging and twitching to once again bury themselves in those pillowy pouches as they had the last few nights. I stopped salivating just long enough to give her a guttural, neanderthal-esque answer. “Very good morning.”

She laughed - found me funny. I wish I could tell you how wide her smile was, or if she was sexily biting her lips; but even a light giggle rocked her plaint flesh in waves of motion. “I see zat your pants have gotten dirty.” She sauntered towards me, her raised arms still drying her hair, pulled her already firm and hand-sized breasts higher on her chest. She drew closer to me, every step causing them to swing in the opposite direction of her deliciously swaying hips, “per’aps you should take them off,” right until she squashed them onto my chest, “and wear somezing else.”

Lea dropped one of her hands, hooked her fingers behind the elastic, and yanked my pyjamas down. One side fell lower than the other, sitting askew at an angle on my hips, but still low enough to flop my member out. 

I didn’t have long to savour the refreshing coolness of the open air until I felt my velvet skin blanketed by the soft thicket of dark blonde curls above her core. 

Then I stuck a foot in my mouth - regrettably, not hers. “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, baby?” In the immortal words of Minerva McGonagall: I’ve always wanted to use that spell. Too bad now was possibly the worst time to think about older ladies and poor French accents. 

Her perpetually tired-looking eyes remained half-lidded, but I could tell that a little bit of annoyance had seeped into the previously burning arousal in them. “Ugh! Bas…. Never mind, I’m going back to ze bath. Maybe your showerhead will do your job for you.” Lea pushed herself off of me. As she swivelled to wiggle away, she ensured she kept up as much skin contact as possible to let me know what I was about to miss. “Why must you kill ze mood?”

She hadn’t appreciated my attempt at Fleurting™ so it was now time to kick it up a gear and exercise some Seydouxion©. These last few days had given me intimate knowledge of what her own bedroom proclivities were. Suffice it to say, her turnabout was all a ploy. She didn’t want to be chased - she wanted to be hunted.

Besides, speaking of killing, I hadn’t forgotten that I had a specific brand of homicide to commit. 

“And what makes you think I’m letting you get away from me?” Before she could get any further away, my arms coiled around her plush frame, and I stole her back into my torso. 

Hah! She gasped. The sudden shock of my embrace knocked the towel off her head. She shot one panicked hand out to scrabble for it, but I caught her wrist first, and firmly bent it behind her back. “It hurts!” Yet her hardening nipple pinched between my fingers, told me just how much she was enjoying the rough treatment. 

I pressed her tighter into me. My nose buried into the trembling sinew of her throat; even under the scent of soap, I could smell a fresh plume of her natural musk as she began to sweat. My teeth latched on to her pulse point, where my tongue could feel her rapidly heightening heartbeat. My penis found somewhere else warm to snuggle again. This shaft of mine was hard and engorged enough to hold her up from where I’d slithered in between her squirming thighs. Her heated entrance rested right on top of me, drooling for my invasion.

The bed was too far. I hadn’t the patience. She needed to be taken, here and now.  

I bent her over the floor-bolted dinner table. “Ahngh!” Instead of cushioning herself as I slammed her down, she threw her other hand back to swat me away. “Bête sauvage!” Her backlash might have deterred most, but this wasn’t my first time indulging her fantasies. 

Lea moaned as I snatched her second flailing arm and tied with the first within the grasp of my larger hand. 

She pressed one side of her face against the wooden surface, while the other side flushed feverishly as she pleaded at me from over her trapped shoulder. I whipped my shirt off and hovered over her.

Her breath shuddered, and sweet mewls tickled my ears as I laid a trail of kisses from her upper spine, across the nape of her neck, ‘till I bit down on her ear. I felt the river of goosebumps racing over her flesh in the wake on my free hand’s fingertips. My nails clawed at the base of her scalp as I clutched a fistful of her hair and wrenched her head back. 

She painfully fought against that, just so she could desperately lock her luscious lips over mine. Her tongue slipped into my mouth as we shared a bruising smooch. She tasted like mint and need. 

I twisted my face away from hers, almost tearing my bottom lip because she refused to detach from her frenzied suckle.

“Brace yourself.”

That was all the command she needed to spread her meaty legs for me. “Baise-moi.”

It’d be my pleasure to. I engaged my core, dipped my knees, lined my hips, and plunged in. An unavoidable moan escaped us. The intense pressure of her coiling pussy erased any higher thought I may still have been capable of.

 She wasn’t any different. Lea’s eyes shut tight and jaws clenched, as sweat glistened at her hairline once I started thrusting into her.

My gaze wandered across the alabaster skin of her back, that quickly turned to cherry-red. I admired her delectable cheeks as they rippled from my hard pistoning. More, I needed more! I picked up the pace. The manic rhythm - plap, plap, plap! - of my groin banging on her ass as we both eagerly fucked at each other was far from the only song we were playing. 

Every moment inside her cloying, sweltering furnace felt like an eternity. 

As time, and my relentless assault, went on, her raspy moans became a long gurgling wheeze. I changed my angle. I stressed my glutes, rose to my full height, and inclined the tip of my sensitive head until I scraped myself at that special, bumpy ridge of pleasure at the roof of her mound. Her release was obvious to me when the splat and warm spray of her orgasm hit my knee and fell in rivulets down the inside of her thighs.

Her undulating depths jealously sought to coax my own end. Lea’s insides juddered around me even as I churned her juices with a loud squelch. 

I made the mistake of glancing down at our coupling. Her slick folds clung greedily to me even as I brutally sawed in and out of her. A ring of her cream staining an inch off my base, marking as deep as she fit me.

The sight of her, the sounds we made, the heady stench of it all finally proved too much. That final thunderous rush of impulse zapped up my spine. The arm twined in her hair, yanked up and arched her back. “Aah!” Every muscle in my body recoiled as she screeched her climax, finally forcing me to drench her. 

Everything from head to toe flared in lactic agony. In my haze of pleasure, I’d forgotten to breathe. Almost losing my footing, I stumbled back. I plopped wetly out of her. She slid off the table and fell to the ground. There wasn’t enough energy in me to catch her. 

She lay there on the floor, an arm tossed over her glossed over eyes as she struggled to reconnect spasming legs to her brain. “Merci… merci… merci.” Was all she could say.

My strength returned to me as soon as I heard that. “Don’t thank me yet. We’re just getting started.”