shopgirljoan: (Malachi Malone Air Mercenary)
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Story stuff

Warning sex and talk about penises!

The Women - Part 1

Prevented from seeing Malachi, Vivien tried to enjoy life as best she could. As it was her Season, it was easy enough, invites for parties and luncheons poured in and at times she didn’t think of him at all. Yet she found it hard to take an interest in any of the young men, and catty remarks had been made which had rather hurt (she had never noticed anything of the sort at her boarding school anyway)

It might have been easier to tell the truth, and gained her more sympathy. “I loved a boy but he was unsuitable so they sent him away and I can’t even look at anyone else” had a titillating factor that the other Debs would love, but in truth her stepfather scared her. He had the kind of charm that she could tell would go sour when he didn’t get his own way.

Sir Hugo had been the one who introduced her to Julian. He was the son of another factory owner, and up and coming Blackshirt. He was really very handsome, with dark rumpled hair and a charming smile, but he had a rather unattractive arrogance to him. They had danced together, lunched together, and eventually after one party he had lead her to the boathouse where Malachi had made love to her.

His penis was all wrong. That was the first thing. Malachi’s, the only one she had so far seen, had been smooth. Julian’s had a sort of ugly flap of skin around it.

“What’s that?” she had asked, tentatively touching it with a fingertip, and Julian had laughed at her.

“Its my foreskin. All men have them. Well are born with them. Yids have them cut off as babies. Darling there’s no need to go so red, what are you so afraid of?”

In the event of it he had got overexcited and come rather loudly and messily on her dress, and she had run out to the lake and attempted to wash it off, with the result that she fell, which was why she was at present lying in bed with a horrid cold. But at least it had got her out of going to the Rally.

Lying in bed, Vivien allowed herself the luxury of reliving the time with Malachi slowly in her mind.

Everyone had been caught up in some silly game arranged for entertainment, so he had taken her hand and asked her “Viv, let’s have a walk, it’s so hot in here!” and she had been so happy to accompany him, having been hoping he’d say something of the sort.

They walked hand in hand and he talked a bit, about flying and the big magnificent machines that fascinated him so. Then they had come to the boathouse and he’d suggested they take a rest.

The roses which grew around it had been blooming, and the sun was setting slowly, so slowly it would be hours before it went down. Malachi sung softly

Will you come to the bower I have shaded for you?
Your bed shall be of roses, be spangled with dew.
Will you, will you, will you come to the bower?
Will you, will you, will you come to the bower?

Her eyes widened “What’s that song?”

“It’s an American song” he told her “But to an Irish tune. The Irish version is a rebel song not a love song, but I like this one better right now” and he continued singing

There under the bower on soft roses you'll lie,
With a blush on your cheek, but a smile in your eye.
Will you, will you, will you smile my beloved?
Will you, will you, will you smile my beloved?

But the roses we press shall not rival your lips,
nor the dew be so sweet as the kisses we'll sip.
Will you, will you, will you kiss me my beloved?
Will you, will you, will you kiss me my beloved?

Then he had kissed her, slowly, again and again, and somehow he had slipped his hand up her leg and pulled down her panties, and she felt scared but so excited and happy.

He had removed his trousers and underpants and was messing around fitting something onto his penis (so THAT’S what one looked like!)

“What are you doing?” she asked a little shakily

“Its to protect you” he explained

“Protect me?”

“So you won’t get up the duff, silly. I half inched it from Philip’s dressing table” He finished and pulled her to him and she let him enter her. She gave a painful cry.

“Oh dear did I hurt you? Just relax, it’ll be alright” He kissed her again and began to nuzzle down her neck. She wrapped her arms around him and looked at him, the dark eyes half closed, glossy blue-black hair, perfect lips. She shivered, and gasped as one of his fingers began moving against her.

“I think you’re ready now!” he whispered, and slid inside her again, and this time it worked, and suddenly all those veiled hints in her romance novels and made by other girls she knew to show off made sense.

Afterwards, they sat together on the trimmed grass outside and watched as the sun began to sink further.

“I want to marry you” Malachi said softly.

Vivien felt a funny kind of hitch inside “I…”

“Will you marry me one day?”

“Y…yes” she said “One day. Oh dear we should be back we’ll be missed!” she jumped up and smoothed down her dress.

Malachi nodded, and got up, reluctantly “Yes. I suppose we were a bit silly” He brushed himself down and took her hand “Come on”

They were back at the house when she paused to look at the roses which grew up one of the walls, mostly pink, but one plant had bright red flowers, even redder for the dying sunlight.

“Would you like one?”

Before she had a chance to answer Malachi had shinned up the drainpipe and grabbed one of the red roses, twisting it from its stem. He slid down part of the way before losing his momentum and falling in a dusty heap at her feet. They were both laughing as she pulled him up.

“At least I didn’t crush it” he took the rose and, taking the pins from her chaste white corsage, pinned to her dress.

“How dare you!”

They wheeled round to see Sir Hugo striding over.

“We went for a w…” Vivien’s voice petered out as her stepfather grabbed Malachi and punched him hard, hitting him in the eye.

“You’re leaving right now” he snarled, a few spots of spittle settling on his face. “And I won’t have you pestering my stepdaughter anymore. If you approach her again I’ll let the police deal with you and they won’t be as lenient. Go!”

Malachi pulled himself up and looked at her, then turned and walked away. But it was this look that kept haunting her, the look that chastised her for not challenging Sir Hugo.

He had never seen what followed of course, when her stepfather had grabbed her shoulder “I’m keeping you on a tight leash from now on. I thought you were trustworthy but clearly not” before tearing the rose from her dress and crushing it beneath his boot.

Vivien realised her pillow was soaking. Thank god everyone was out at the rally and would not bother her.

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May 2012

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