Raffles fic: Le premier pas, bis.
This was the first fic I ever posted anywhere, and I was so shy I only posted it to my own lj. After some revision, I'm reposting it now to put up at crimeandcricket.
Title: Pearls by Candlelight
Author: constantmuse
Pairing: Raffles/Bunny
Adult.
Disclaimer: Raffles and Bunny are the creations of E.W. Hornung, and were reincarnated in the Yorkshire Television series, 'Raffles' (1977).
Pearls by Candlelight
The evening’s adventure had been an uninvited call on the Mayfair townhouse of the Marchioness of Bywater. We had agreed, or rather, Raffles had decided, that when it came time to leave the scene of the crime, we should separate and each make our own way back to his studio.
I arrived at the door, finally, panting and trembling, looking over my shoulder, my heart in my mouth. I let myself in with the key Raffles had given me, as quietly as I could. The studio was silent and in darkness. I nearly jumped out of my black jersey when a shadow moved and I heard Raffles’ drawl, chiding but not unkind, “Whatever took you so long? I’ve been here for ages.”
Mine had been the easier and shorter route, but Raffles had still managed to return more swiftly than I. Raffles lit a single candle in a candlestick on a side table, enveloping the two of us in dim golden light while the rest of the studio remained in shadow. Raffles faced me, smiling inscrutably.
“Turn around, there’s a good Bunny, and close your eyes.”
I wondered what would happen next. A soft rattle from behind, I knew, must be the jewels Raffles had seized. I felt a gentle pressure around my neck and shoulders. I brought up my hand to feel what could only be the magnificent diamond-and-pearl collar that had been the chief object of Raffles’ ambitions that night. He carefully arranged the collar and secured the clasp, with a certain pride, just as though presenting it to a consort whom he wished to impress with this trophy of his success. I shivered at the sensation as Raffles’ fingertips brushed the nape of my neck. His face was so close I could feel his warm breath on my hair.
“Smooth pearls from the South Seas, and glittering diamonds from the red earth of darkest Africa, brought together in tribute to an English beauty.”
Telling me I could open my eyes, he turned me to face him. Taking a long string of pearls from his pocket, he draped it around my neck in two long loops. As Raffles emptied his pockets of jewels, I could not help but notice how the bulge remained in his close-fitting black trousers. He attached a pearl-and-ruby cuff bracelet to my left wrist and a diamond-and-pearl bracelet to my right. Then he took me by the shoulders and held me at arm’s length, looking me up and down, admiring the effect of his handiwork, stroking my face and down my neck to caress the jewelled collar.
“Upon my word, never have these jewels looked so fine as they do now, Bunny, not ever, not on the dull complexion of a grand duchess, nor on the gaudy silks of a maharanee. They are so exquisitely set off by your black costume, and your youthful, fair features.”
I thanked the dim light for sparing my blushes at this outrageous flattery, which was nevertheless highly gratifying.
Raffles pulled me close. As his lips closed on mine, his tongue penetrating my mouth, his strong arms wrapped around me, I felt his hardness against me. I knew then that the excitement Raffles derived from burglary had another dimension, that the excitement of the adventure translated itself into physical arousal. I could not share this perverse delight, having so recently been quaking with anxiety, but my body now responded to his, without reserve.
Raffles manoeuvred me towards the chaise-longue. He undid my trousers and pushed them down, before gently but firmly lowering me down onto the upholstery beneath him. His attentions were slow and caring. He took his time caressing my hair and face, kissing my lips and throat, moving his hands down my sides, up inside my jersey to touch bare skin that was now crying out for his touch.
“My Bunny, my dear little rabbit”, he murmured, “You do not need these adornments, you are quite perfect without them, but they do look dashed fine…”.
Any reply I might have made was completely incoherent because his skilful hands had now reached my groin. With his right he took a firm hold of my cock and began to move rhythmically up and down, with his left he stroked around my nether regions. Almost without my being aware of it, he slipped down beside me and turned me over, to press himself against my behind. The studio seemed to be well equipped, as Raffles was now smoothing pleasantly scented oil from a jar, over his cock and between my buttocks. My innards lurched and my cock throbbed in pleasurable anticipation of the sensation that would soon follow. Raffles was on top of me, his breath once more warm on my neck, and the cock that was slowly penetrating me was hotter, harder and thicker than I had felt it before. Raffles, usually so self-controlled even in the act of passion, moaned a little and started to thrust ever harder and more deeply. With his right hand back on my erection, all too soon I felt the pressure build within me, revelling in the intense pleasure of reaching orgasm with him filling me. Not for the first time, I unashamedly breathed out his name at the moment of climax. My response made Raffles more urgent, his cock grew inside me, thrusting so hard I feared injury as he reached a violent and prolonged climax.
Afterwards he held me close, his ragged breath slowly returning to its normal calm measure. As we lay pressed together on the narrow chaise-longue, Raffles lit up a Sullivan, emanating profound satisfaction.
“With the takings from tonight’s haul, Bunny,” he smirked, “we shall be able to live a life of ease for months on end. No need for any further adventures of this sort for a while…” He drew on the cigarette and blew the smoke upwards luxuriantly. “Depending, of course, on how expensive your tastes might become. Mine, as you know are simple in the extreme, ascetic even,” Raffles joked, passing me the cigarette.
In my shallowness, I had already forgotten the terrors of the burglary, and could think of nothing but the ecstasy of the lovemaking that had followed, so I selfishly complained,
“But if we do not engage in the excitement of … pursuing your art… there will be none of this pleasant aftermath…”
“Good point, Bunny, we may need to pull off some minor adventures, from time to time, just to keep our hands in, or our peckers up, or what have you… Or we could just come here occasionally, you and I. I always feel somehow freer here, anonymous, out of my usual haunts, the mundane routine.”
I had to concur with that, from what I had just experienced, and the reward without the risk appealed irresistibly to my cowardly nature. After another languid drag on the cigarette, Raffles’ next remark, as so often, left me uncertain whether it was meant seriously,
“But you will have to wear a black jersey and pearls for me.”
Title: Pearls by Candlelight
Author: constantmuse
Pairing: Raffles/Bunny
Adult.
Disclaimer: Raffles and Bunny are the creations of E.W. Hornung, and were reincarnated in the Yorkshire Television series, 'Raffles' (1977).
Pearls by Candlelight
The evening’s adventure had been an uninvited call on the Mayfair townhouse of the Marchioness of Bywater. We had agreed, or rather, Raffles had decided, that when it came time to leave the scene of the crime, we should separate and each make our own way back to his studio.
I arrived at the door, finally, panting and trembling, looking over my shoulder, my heart in my mouth. I let myself in with the key Raffles had given me, as quietly as I could. The studio was silent and in darkness. I nearly jumped out of my black jersey when a shadow moved and I heard Raffles’ drawl, chiding but not unkind, “Whatever took you so long? I’ve been here for ages.”
Mine had been the easier and shorter route, but Raffles had still managed to return more swiftly than I. Raffles lit a single candle in a candlestick on a side table, enveloping the two of us in dim golden light while the rest of the studio remained in shadow. Raffles faced me, smiling inscrutably.
“Turn around, there’s a good Bunny, and close your eyes.”
I wondered what would happen next. A soft rattle from behind, I knew, must be the jewels Raffles had seized. I felt a gentle pressure around my neck and shoulders. I brought up my hand to feel what could only be the magnificent diamond-and-pearl collar that had been the chief object of Raffles’ ambitions that night. He carefully arranged the collar and secured the clasp, with a certain pride, just as though presenting it to a consort whom he wished to impress with this trophy of his success. I shivered at the sensation as Raffles’ fingertips brushed the nape of my neck. His face was so close I could feel his warm breath on my hair.
“Smooth pearls from the South Seas, and glittering diamonds from the red earth of darkest Africa, brought together in tribute to an English beauty.”
Telling me I could open my eyes, he turned me to face him. Taking a long string of pearls from his pocket, he draped it around my neck in two long loops. As Raffles emptied his pockets of jewels, I could not help but notice how the bulge remained in his close-fitting black trousers. He attached a pearl-and-ruby cuff bracelet to my left wrist and a diamond-and-pearl bracelet to my right. Then he took me by the shoulders and held me at arm’s length, looking me up and down, admiring the effect of his handiwork, stroking my face and down my neck to caress the jewelled collar.
“Upon my word, never have these jewels looked so fine as they do now, Bunny, not ever, not on the dull complexion of a grand duchess, nor on the gaudy silks of a maharanee. They are so exquisitely set off by your black costume, and your youthful, fair features.”
I thanked the dim light for sparing my blushes at this outrageous flattery, which was nevertheless highly gratifying.
Raffles pulled me close. As his lips closed on mine, his tongue penetrating my mouth, his strong arms wrapped around me, I felt his hardness against me. I knew then that the excitement Raffles derived from burglary had another dimension, that the excitement of the adventure translated itself into physical arousal. I could not share this perverse delight, having so recently been quaking with anxiety, but my body now responded to his, without reserve.
Raffles manoeuvred me towards the chaise-longue. He undid my trousers and pushed them down, before gently but firmly lowering me down onto the upholstery beneath him. His attentions were slow and caring. He took his time caressing my hair and face, kissing my lips and throat, moving his hands down my sides, up inside my jersey to touch bare skin that was now crying out for his touch.
“My Bunny, my dear little rabbit”, he murmured, “You do not need these adornments, you are quite perfect without them, but they do look dashed fine…”.
Any reply I might have made was completely incoherent because his skilful hands had now reached my groin. With his right he took a firm hold of my cock and began to move rhythmically up and down, with his left he stroked around my nether regions. Almost without my being aware of it, he slipped down beside me and turned me over, to press himself against my behind. The studio seemed to be well equipped, as Raffles was now smoothing pleasantly scented oil from a jar, over his cock and between my buttocks. My innards lurched and my cock throbbed in pleasurable anticipation of the sensation that would soon follow. Raffles was on top of me, his breath once more warm on my neck, and the cock that was slowly penetrating me was hotter, harder and thicker than I had felt it before. Raffles, usually so self-controlled even in the act of passion, moaned a little and started to thrust ever harder and more deeply. With his right hand back on my erection, all too soon I felt the pressure build within me, revelling in the intense pleasure of reaching orgasm with him filling me. Not for the first time, I unashamedly breathed out his name at the moment of climax. My response made Raffles more urgent, his cock grew inside me, thrusting so hard I feared injury as he reached a violent and prolonged climax.
Afterwards he held me close, his ragged breath slowly returning to its normal calm measure. As we lay pressed together on the narrow chaise-longue, Raffles lit up a Sullivan, emanating profound satisfaction.
“With the takings from tonight’s haul, Bunny,” he smirked, “we shall be able to live a life of ease for months on end. No need for any further adventures of this sort for a while…” He drew on the cigarette and blew the smoke upwards luxuriantly. “Depending, of course, on how expensive your tastes might become. Mine, as you know are simple in the extreme, ascetic even,” Raffles joked, passing me the cigarette.
In my shallowness, I had already forgotten the terrors of the burglary, and could think of nothing but the ecstasy of the lovemaking that had followed, so I selfishly complained,
“But if we do not engage in the excitement of … pursuing your art… there will be none of this pleasant aftermath…”
“Good point, Bunny, we may need to pull off some minor adventures, from time to time, just to keep our hands in, or our peckers up, or what have you… Or we could just come here occasionally, you and I. I always feel somehow freer here, anonymous, out of my usual haunts, the mundane routine.”
I had to concur with that, from what I had just experienced, and the reward without the risk appealed irresistibly to my cowardly nature. After another languid drag on the cigarette, Raffles’ next remark, as so often, left me uncertain whether it was meant seriously,
“But you will have to wear a black jersey and pearls for me.”