Nikki Harrington


An afternoon on the river leads to other things.

A first time story.

Written: March 2012. Word count: 1,986.



After a lengthy and very enjoyable lunch we took a boat out on the river. Raffles reclined with his eyes closed in the bow of the boat and I sculled.  As I pulled the oars I watched him; I do not believe I have ever seen him look more handsome as he lay with the sun shimmering off the water around him, his black hair, showing beneath his straw hat, gleaming in the sunlight, his tanned face at peace.


As always I was struck with a sense of disbelief and awe that this man, this wonderful man, this Greek God, this highly intelligent man, the man whom everyone wanted at their dining tables and parties, the man who played first class cricket for England and Middlesex and was the best all rounder of the decade at least, had chosen me to be his friend, his companion, his right hand man, his confidante, his partner, the person he trusted above all others. Indeed, more than once he has told me I am the only person whom he completely trusts - certainly I am the only person to know about his secret life of crime and I share that part of his life with him as well.


Even more difficult to understand was that he was more than happy to spend hours in my company; that it was he who invited me to lunch and to dine with him and to accompany him to the theatre, to the opera, to house parties and to his cricket matches. I know many people wondered why he spent so much time with me, why he took me with him wherever he went, and why the 'and guest' always meant me. Me, whose name few people troubled to even remember. Why would the great A. J. Raffles want me by his side? There were times even I did not know, times even I could not quite believe it; thus it didn't particularly surprise me that other people were puzzled by it.


As I watched him, my mind daring to go to places it shouldn't go to, he opened his eyes and stared unblinkingly at me, as if he were considering something. He didn't speak, he just looked at me. I simply gazed back at him, happy to be in silence, happy to follow his lead, as I always did.


After a minute of two of silence, he sat up and glanced around him. "Pull over there, Bunny," he said, nodding to one of the islands that were dotted about the water.


"Why," I asked, even though I was already adjusting my pull to comply with his wishes.


Again he studied me then gave a half shrug and said, "There are some things for which privacy is required."


I thought he meant the results of the two bottles of wine we had shared at lunch, and having had enough wine myself to make me a little less reticent than I normally am, I jokingly made a comment to that effect. His reply was more than a little cryptic. "Not quite," was all he said as he returned to just watching me.


Under his gaze I became a little hotter and my mouth became dry. I glanced away from him, concentrating instead on lining up the boat with the straight edge of the island.


Once I had pulled up, Raffles alighted and tied the boat in place. My surprise must have been obvious when he offered me his hand to help me out of the boat. I had no need to get out and my look must have said so because the way he held his hand became slightly irritated.


Not wishing to annoy him, I sighed softly, took his hand and let him steady me as I got out of the boat. We left her swaying in the water as, still holding my hand, he led me further under cover of the trees.


I am not certain what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't what happened. He stopped, glanced around him once and then with ease, turned me and pushed me back against a tree. The next second his mouth was on mine and his long fingers were unbuttoning my trousers. "Don't deny me this, Bunny, please," he murmured, taking his mouth from mine for long enough to speak, as talented fingers found their way inside my trousers and drawers, finding flesh that was already hardening under his touch and gently pulling it out.


As I pressed myself back against the tree, certain if it were not for it and the way he was holding me, I would fall to the ground, I wondered why he would think I would deny him the thing I had wanted for so long.


I groaned softly into his mouth as he continued to stroke me, arching my back and pushing myself more deeply into his hand as I kissed him back with as much love and passion as I could show. His kiss was dangerously addictive; I knew now I had experienced it, now I had tasted him as he kissed me, that I would go on wanting it for the rest of my days. To wish for something is one thing; to have is quite something else.


I could feel my desire growing more and more as fingers I'd watched bowl unfathomable balls continued to seduce me. However, it appeared it was not enough for him, because after one more intense kiss, he took his mouth from mine, dropped to his knees in front of me and took my heated flesh into his mouth.


I cried out and gripped his head as I steadied myself even more against the tree. I glanced down at him and was stunned at the sight of the man who tomorrow would not only take to the field for the second test match, but also captain it, the usual captain being injured, on his knees in front of me, doing things to me that were considered immoral, illegal, disgusting, despicable, against God, against man and of a base nature.


So taken was I with the thought that I had to watch him bat, bowl and field tomorrow and concentrate on his fingers and head doing other things, it was too late when I realised what my body was telling me. "Raffles!" I cried, the cry both warning and rapture; the former came too late and I closed my eyes with shame, as my body trembled in the final seconds of ecstasy.


He stayed where he was for some minutes, lightly kissing and licking me, cleansing me, until finally he reverentially rearranged me and my clothing and buttoned my trousers back up. Then in a single elegant move, he rose to his feet and gazed down at me. I've always known Raffles loved me, indeed he has even told me thus on at least one occasion. But until that moment I did not know the depths of his love for me, I did not know it was possible to be loved by someone as much as his eyes and face were telling me I was loved.


But I was still ashamed at my failure and began to make a stammering apology to him, wondering if my shameful behaviour would mean the most beautiful, marvellous, unexpected gift I had been given would never again be mine. But he just smiled, pulled me into his arms, held me tightly against him, letting me feel his own hardness and whispered into my ear that he would not have moved away even had my warning been more timely.


I know I quivered in his arms as he whispered those words and others to me, I did not feel worthy of his love of being loved by someone as perfect as he. I knew whatever I did for him would be woefully inadequate. Hs kiss, his touch, his mouth had all told me quite clearly that he had known what he was doing; whereas I, apart from a few furtive fumbles and  quick kisses at school and even fewer furtive and chaste kisses since then, had no knowledge of physical love. I did not wish to disappoint him, I did not wish to fail him, I did not wish to make him regret what he had done. I had to touch him, I wanted to touch him, but I knew I could not match or even come near to his skills.


Nonetheless, I took one hand away from the arm I realised I'd been clinging to and let it slip down his body, finding the hardness and covering it. "Bunny!" he gasped, as my fingers closed around him for a moment before opening again as they fumbled and tried to undo his buttons. Finally, it fell to steadier, cooler and more experienced hands than mine to complete the task and then, shaking only slightly, I slipped my hand inside his clothing, drew his hardness out and again closed my hand around him, this time there was no clothing to interfere with my touch.


"Bunny," he gasped again, and to my surprise I felt his release in my hand as he sagged against me and his mouth once again sought mine.


After a kiss that became more about love than desire he took his mouth from mine and gazed down at me. "I believe it is I who should offer an apology, Bunny. I offer no excuse other than that I have desired you for so long, have wanted to take you into my arms, to kiss you, to touch you, to hold you; I have dreamt of doing such things so many times that -" I silenced him with a kiss.


It was he who sculled the boat back to the shore, he is stronger than I, thus we covered the river far more quickly; he who hailed a cab and bundled me into it, sitting as far from me as he could, as his steady, blazing blue eyes promised so many things; he who paid the cab driver with not a single thought for the coin he handed over; he who all but manhandled me into the Albany and up to his rooms.


And it was he who in the delightful coolness of his bedroom undressed first me and then himself; he who guided me into his bed, letting me settle on cool, fresh linen before he joined me; he who spent the rest of the afternoon, evening and night showing me just how much I was loved, desired, wanted, needed even; he who gave me what I had always wanted: his heart, his promise of fidelity; he who gave me him. He has had my heart and me from the first day we met.


It was he who led the England team, after less than an hour's sleep, onto the field. And a very diminished England team it was too, as not only was the usual captain absent, but also two of the star batsmen and one of the fast bowlers were missing having all succumbed to a violent stomach bug.


However, England did not have to worry as they had A. J. Raffles who in the first innings took seven wickets, made two catches and went go on to score more than a century and remain not out before repeating the achievement in the second innings. I do not think it was just my more than a little blinded by love eyes that believed he single-handedly won the test.


And if there were times I could not watch him bowl, could not watch his fingers on the ball, least my flush, at the memory of what else I had seen and felt those fingers do, be seen, well I am certain I can be forgiven. I am certain he would forgive me - and his forgiveness is the only one I need.



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