The Unsophisticated Guest | By : SpringyMinx Category: Celebrities - Misc > Het - Male/Female Views: 1359 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not know Ricky Gervais personally and the story is fictional. I am in no way profiting financially from this material. |
On a quiet evening inside the posh estate of Elane Stacy, four people including herself sit around the lavishly decorated dining table in an uncomfortable silence.
Beside Elane, sits her eldest Son Roger and across from him his 27 year old Sister Whitney who's brought guest Ricky Gervais.
The pair met in New York when she photographed him on the set of his most recent film, "The Invention Of Lying" and pictures of their latest shoot were going to be featured in GQ magazine along with a small piece she wrote on fashion and artistic photography.
An exciting achievement in her flourishing career and she invited Ricky over to meet her family and celebrate.
He was usually busy when he visited the states, but subsequently accepted her request which they'd both come to regret at this point.
In a household of self established business people, their wealth and success was handed down through out the years. Where as her family had grown accustomed to a certain easy lifestyle and didn't have much respect for her creative ambitions.
Nor did they appreciate the work of a writer/comedian that took part in her endeavors. That was clear.
They'd been rather short with her celebrity chum as well as uninterested in his conversation and uptight regarding his sense of humor which they found appalling.
All of this of course hadn't been spoken directly, just gestured towards in their subtle reactions and now the room was filled with the sole sounds of tinkering silverware.
Whitney cleared her throat and looked up from the plate of left over roast at her Mother, smiling nervously. "You know, Ricky's going to be hosting the Golden Globes this year."
Roger stared across the table with a demeaning gaze and quipped, "Not quite the Oscars is it?" Then chuckled, Ricky narrowed his eyes and smiled, "Maybe next year." He replied calmly.
"What kind of material do you prepare for such an event?" Elane questioned, taking a sip of red wine from the antique crystal glass. "I mean, you can't very well recite your stand up act in a place like that." She added with a grin, trying to seem ever the polite hostess while she insulted his work.
Remaining pleasant, beneath the surface where he loathed such company he laughed, "The producers have been kind enough to let me write my own routines without review."
"That's bold of them!" She asserted with a cheerful, biting manner and now he'd really had it.
"We weren't all born with a silver spoon shoved up our ass, some of us had to work for our fortune." He responded in an equally condescending tone.
In mid swallow, Whitney choked and spit up on the ornate, white table cloth. Alarmed by Ricky's not so skillful reply.
"Are you alright?" Roger exclaimed, hoping to break the tension in the air as he reached over to hand his Sister a napkin.
She tried to laugh off the incident, "Yes of course, I..I must've drank too fast."
But Elane ignored her Children's obvious attempts and wore her indignant glare like it was justified.
"I would never be so uncouth, Mr. Gervais." She said, boring her hateful blue eyes into him. Yet her features were serene and her voice soothing. Further worsening the matter by referring to him like he were less than an acquaintance and unfamiliar.
He couldn't avoid feeling unwelcome and slighted. But the painful sting of embarrassment on Whitney's face prevented him from taking it too far and he decided to change the subject.
Behind Elane was a square shaped entryway that lead into the living area not far from where they all sat.
Ricky noted a colorful statue on near fire place mantel and desperate to change the mood spoke up, "That's an interesting piece." His shoulders lowered as if he'd lost a fight he could've won but gave up.
Elane didn't have to turn around to know which statue he meant.
"Venus." She said. "It's a rare bronze sculpture, one of my favorites by Erte'. Are you familiar with his art?"
"No." Ricky replied, admiring the figure for it's rich copper hues and intense orange color from halfway down, to the base where the likeness of a slender woman stood upright, arms outstretched.
"It's valued at 28 thousand. But it'd never sell it, not even at this price." She told him, with a warm expression. The first of that entire evening.
Dinner ended less than an hour after that. By half passed nine, Roger and Elane went upstairs to their separate fourth floor bedrooms. Ricky had left abruptly and Whitney stayed downstairs.
Unable to sleep she gathered up the dishes and washed them despite having a machine that would've easily done it for her.
At ten o' clock she sat, restlessly on the living room sofa still wearing her long, backless, hunter green ensemble. With her black heels set aside on the crimson tapestry that covered the hard wood floors.
Then all the sudden, a soft knock stirred her from her listless thoughts. She went to the door, opening it curiously to catch sight of Ricky standing there.
"What are you doing here?" She whispered loudly.
He smirked, "I forgot something?"
She rolled her dark green eyes and smiled eccentrically, allowing him to come in.
"It's late." Whitney mentioned, gesturing up at the clock on the wall.
He followed her further into the living room and they stood by the fire place, under the singular light of a table lamp while the rest of the manor was dark.
"I came to apologize." Ricky admitted.
She paused for several seconds and wearily rubbed her face, "I can't believe you said that to my Mother."
"I know. I'm sorry." He said, overwrought as Whitney ruffled through her thick red hair and sighed. "It's my fault. I invited you here." She began, but he quickly interjected, "I'm not used to, putting on and trying hard to please people."
"She definitely hates you." Whitney involuntarily smiled, "My Brother, he's really not like that. He's just afraid of her."
"Charming." Ricky replied and she faintly giggled.
Both were briefly still as he admired her pale complexion and the way her fiery hair hovered just barely above her smooth shoulders in heavy curls.
He leaned in unexpectedly and brushed her lips with his, causing her to pull back abruptly, "Ricky Dene Gervais!" she gasped, searching the room to confirm they were alone, "They're just upstairs."
"What, am I being uncouth?" Ricky teased.
"I am sorry about that." She referred to her Mother's prior statements.
"I've been called a lot of names in the passed decade, but never a word so carefully chosen like that." His temperament cheeky and taunting.
Not enough to distract Whitney, unfortunately who continued to look about like they might get caught. "I still live here Ricky." She reminded him, but he carried on jokingly, "Do you know what that word means?" He exclaimed, raising his voice slightly.
She put her hands on his shoulders to quiet him.
"Lacking good manners or refinement or grace." He said, his tone forcing a smile onto her face. "I'm uncivilized. Uncultured. Unsophisticated." He started listing definitions with an amused delivery, "Boorish. Coarse and plebeian. That's pretty harsh!"
An uneasy smiled played on her darkly stained lips.
"Please, she dislikes you as a work colleague. Imagine if she found out we're together."
Ricky took her by the hand and replied, "She'll come around."
"You don't understand my Mother." Whitney sighed, but he wouldn't dare agree and dampen the mood. "I've got a way with women."
"Oh yeah?" she joked, "How's that?"
"She's only human." He answered and they laughed together.
"What do you mean 'how's that' I won you over."
"I'm only in it for the money." She said dryly and he cracked up.
The two of them stood there momentarily and Whitney appeared contented at last, "You'd better go." Her face fell a little as she spoke.
"Come back with me." Ricky urged, closing the gap between them until they were mere inches apart.
"Not tonight." She said quietly and took a step back, making him sneer as he drew her close at the waste, "What if I won't take 'no' for an answer?"
That's when he kissed her. Tenderly at first, before deepening it to explore her mouth. She found him eager and wanting, his arms tightly wrapping around her figure still he sensed hesitation.
"Mmm, don't make me leave this way." He spoke lowly, his warm breath lifting the hairs on her neck.
"I'll see you tomorrow, I promise." She whispered, then slowly broke away.
Cocking his head to the side, Ricky pouted his lips and stood there unwavering while she turned off the lamp. He raised an eye brow as she embraced him once again, "Please." She pleaded, "My Mother would freak out."
"All the more reason then!" He insisted, giving her a longer passionate kiss at which point she melted into him.
Sinking against his body while his hands lovingly massaged her skin until their refrain. "What would she think...." he challenged, "If she knew what her only Daughter got up to." His fingers brushed the hair away from her face. "The naughty words you say, those wicked things you do to me."
"Stop." She gasped, grabbing his hand to prevent him from pawing at her.
He just smirked as they stood near to one another, he could feel her heart beating at increased speeds.
"You like it don't you?" She loosened her grip, permitting him to touch her and he began to fondle her breasts. "Being with me just to spite them." Ricky nuzzled her neck, planting kisses along her throat, while he whispered in her ear,"It feels good to be bad."
She ran her hands along his shoulders, traveling down his to his backside giving it a little squeeze and they chuckled. "Dirty." He said, grinning against her throat, "You want dirty? I'll show you dirty." She replied, taking his hand and guiding him through the darkness where her Mother's prized Erte' sculpture stood.
With her back to it, she reclined slowly. He could see her through the azure rays of moonlight creeping in through the lace curtains.
"Take me here." She proposed, a sly little sparkle in her eyes.
"But what if someone catches us?" He nudged playfully and she took him by the suit collar and kissed him, hard.
They pulled away, breathing heavily while she clawed at his clothing. Dropping his costly black suit coat to the ground, working the buttons on his matching shirt.
"You're so fucking beautiful." He said, lifting her lengthy evening gown to reveal her shapely silk legs. "Get over here." She replied, locking his waste between them as his shirt hit the floor.
Her black fingers nails scraped across his back just as he found her panties and looped his fingers around them, tugging them until they fell at her ankles.
Between feverish, hot kisses Whitney loosened his belt and trembled at the feel of his hands on her thighs. She was ravenous and craved every moment they were together like this.
It wasn't long before her Mother, Brother and that disastrous evening were forgotten. Swept up in his lustful embrace when he pinned her alongside the statue and lowered his pants.
The first thrust was divine. To have him inside her, pulsing and fulfilling an animal need for intimacy that brought her close to the edge.
Momentum quickly grew as she opened herself up to him and the Erte' began to rock from the backwards and forwards motion.
Clutching her hips, Ricky roughly pounded into her. Delighted by the sight of her, head dipped back - exposing that long magnificent neck with her mouth agape as she moaned.
"Oh Ricky...oh yes, Ricky..uh.." She yelled his name, caring no more if they would be heard or found out.
He groped the curve of her ass and bent down to bite her right breast to which she squealed with pleasure and met his amorous gaze.
"Harder!" She cried.
He obliged, giving her every ounce of energy he had until the sculpture she leaned against shook at it's base.
"Ah! Ah!" She whimpered, sweat lightly glazing her milky skin as she sensed the desire building up within finally take her over the threshold.
She tightened her legs around him and he felt her cum. The sensation was such that he lost control and joined her in climax.
They stayed in the darkness, breathing in the scent of each other and gathering strength to move. When they eventually did, Ricky pulled up his pants and zipped them as she walked to the sofa and collapsed in exhaustion.
Watching Ricky with a weary grin, collect his shirt and coat then drowsily put them on.
"Better?" She asked teasingly while he buttoned up his shirt.
He slipped his coat on and joined her on the couch, "Indeed."
"I'll look at that sculpture with fond memories now." She said with a laugh.
"It really is a beautiful piece. Romain de Tirtoff was an exceptional artist."
A bit confused, Whitney looked at the statue then back at Ricky. "I thought you said you hadn't heard of Erte'?"
"Just trying to live up to your Mother's low expectations." He replied.
She reached up and touched his cheek, "I'm going to miss you tonight."
"You don't have to." He responded, taking her hand in his. "Come back with me."
Smiling weakly she tangled her fingers with his and said, "I thought you got what you wanted already." Ricky's free hand lifted her head to look in his eyes, "I want you to come home with me." He replied very seriously and gently.
The pair smiled and after a few minutes she went upstairs and came back with a change of clothes. What damage would it cause if her family didn't find her there in the morning? She thought. They surely wouldn't suspect and so she left with him. With all the promise of tomorrow in their future, one night couldn't hurt.
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