Authors: K.A. Merikan
He was gasping for air, as he let his eyes drop open. “What are you doing?” he uttered, “Is it finished?”
“Thought you might fancy a little distraction,” Ira murmured, cradling him up into his arms, when James suddenly grabbed him in a strong, desperate hug, practically knocking the air out of his chest.
“I hope it works...,” he uttered next to Ira’s ear.
The man sighed, embracing him slowly and trailing James’ cheek with his warm tongue. “Hope they both do.”
“I’ve never been this close to a man...” said James slowly, still shivering, but forcing himself to look up at Ira’s eyes. “I always tried to be a good person.”
The other man breathed shakily and James saw his own reflection lighting up the dark gaze. “Aren’t you still?” he asked in a low voice...
“No... I have these dark dreams, that no man of good moral standing should have, and now all I want to do is give in to them!” His eyes were obsessively fixed on Ira. “If I am to die, I want to taste you before that happens...”
The other man stared at him unblinkingly for a long moment, before tracing the tip of his thumb over James’ open mouth. “I will let you taste me good,” he growled, continually squeezing his companion’s bottom in a gentle manner.
James nodded, his breath coming in heavy gasps. He had never been in such a position and now he felt that all he wanted to do is simply give in to the lust he had built up for years. If the burning didn’t work, he knew he would die in a matter of days, though he would probably be killed before he transformed into a zombie. Once again he hugged Ira’s strong, muscular body, trying to forget his pain in the embrace. He could hear his heart thumping loudly as his face lit up.
“You go upstairs, boy,” the man said finally, “Take our clothes and I will be right on to you.”
James smiled slightly, even though the skin on his neck still felt tender. The ladder for the room upstairs was hidden by a latch in the wooden ceiling, but wasn’t hard to reach. After taking all their clothes and his suitcase, James crawled upstairs quite swiftly and stood up to look around the massive attic. It had belonged to the blacksmith, so the quality of the interior was better than a regular servant’s room. On one side, it had a sloping ceiling, but the room itself was spacious, with a strong, wooden bed occupying the main space just below a large window. The glass was broken in one place, but otherwise, it seemed intact. By the other wall, stood a basic table with four chairs. It seemed as if frozen in time: covered with a cotton cloth and set for a meal. It looked as though the room's occupants had left in a hurry. Food was still on the plates and clear glass mugs where stained with a tea-colored residue. A sad, dried flower had remained in a small vase at the center of the table. As the man turned, he saw a smaller part of the attic, partially obscured by a blue curtain. The orange sunglow shone on another bed and some wooden toys were scattered on the floor. He walked there slowly, passing a much bigger, closed latch in the wooden floor. He remembered from his childhood that it was sometimes open, directly connected to the stables underneath. The room made him sad and nostalgic, but on the other hand, he felt lucky that he had survived, unlike so many others. He heard Ira climbing back and pulling the ladder up for safety.
“You want new bedding?” the man asked while studying the attic. “Must be here somewhere.”
“Yes, I’ve been here a few times as a kid.” James felt strangely liberated now that he stood there naked. He walked to a massive chest next to the bed and opened it. “My father gave it to them for their wedding.” Suddenly, he felt the other man’s presence behind him and was swiftly pulled into a warm embrace. The feel of a flaccid cock against his backside sent shivers down his spine.
“So,” Ira breathed in a low voice, kissing the nape of his neck, “Gonna have your first time on a wedding bedding? Sounds promising,” he murmured, stroking the other man’s arms gently.
James gasped, not really knowing if he was ready for this. His body on the other hand was all for it. Even the burning sensation on his jaw and neck seemed to fade in comparison. “You know I have a wife...,” he muttered, in an attempt to keep a bit of dignity. Feeling the prick behind him though, he knew where this was heading and he wasn’t really planning to take charge of the situation either.
“She ain't here,” Ira answered, taking hold of his hips with a grunt. “She couldn’t do what I will either. Doesn’t have a cock.” The way he said the last word almost made James moan, and he felt an unmistakable stir by his backside.
“She doesn’t...,” he repeated, breathing heavily. “You do know what you’re doing?” he asked, though at the same time he was sure that was the case.
“Oh, don’t fret,” the man breathed against his ear, “got years of experience.”
James looked at him with a nervous smile and moved away a bit. “I’ll just change the bedding then,” he said and his imagination went running wild once again, as he thought of the men Ira must have been with. Suddenly he started feeling nervous about his own lack of experience. Would he be good enough?
The other man was taking something out of his bag. From the smell of it, James could guess he was preparing dinner.
“Since when do you feel like that?” Ira asked, sounding sincerely interested.
James looked up at him while changing the bedding to a soft, blue set with decorative knitted detail on the quilt while feeling entirely inadequate. “Like what?” He was struggling with what he was doing, as evidently, it was a chore always performed for him by a maid. Seeing food, reminded him that he'd been too nervous that morning to eat breakfast. Ira found a clean copper plate in the cupboard and filled it with bread, cold meat and some dried fruit from London. They also had cold tea in a metal can.
“Need help?” Ira asked as he placed the meal on the bedside table, along with a small jar.
“No, no, I’m fine. Almost done,” the other man said, dealing with the last pillow. “It’s not perfect, but... you know...” he laughed nervously, looking up at Ira and scanning his massive, tattooed arms. The man gave him a reassuring smile.
“Perfect’s overrated,” he answered, drinking some water and observing the younger man’s moves. James left the pillow on the bed and moved towards Ira, but stopped midway, looking into a small, dirty mirror on the wall. The red burns on his jaw and neck definitely made him ‘imperfect’. “You not ‘ungry, boy?” Ira asked, already sitting on the freshly made bed.
“I am,” he said quickly. “And I’m almost twenty five you know...” he smiled gently, sitting on the side of the bed.
“So?” Ira laughed, brushing his fingers over the other man’s back and offering him the plate of food, “You still my pretty boy.”
“I am?” he bit his lip, but then quickly stuffed his mouth with bread, trying to fight his nervousness. Still, he felt strangely at ease being naked with Ira. “Pass me the jam?” he pointed at the little jar.
The treasure hunter blinked, as if he did not understand what he was talking about, then suddenly burst into a laugh. “Oh, that's not for ya mouth, boy!”
“What...?” he stuttered a bit, looking Ira in the eyes. The other man grunted lowly, embracing him with a heavy, tattooed arm.
“So tha’ you’re nice’n slick for me,” he said with clear anticipation in his tone.
James felt a flush of heat to his face but didn’t avert his gaze. “Is that what I think it is then?” he asked a bit nervously brushing the healthy side of his face against Ira’s neck.
“Yeah.” Ira nodded, mouth full of bread, placing a dried prune between James’ lips. He was hugging the other man in an assuring, yet dominant manner, leaving no doubt as to who would be taking on which role.
“I always thought that I’m ‘just looking’, therefore doing no harm...” James said, chewing the prune.
“So... since when you been... lookin’?” asked Ira massaging the back of his neck sensually.
“As a young boy I saw two male servants... let’s say... ‘caressing’ each other in the kitchen. It made me feel all hot and flustered and wrong on so many levels. But still, I'd always looked out for them since then, wishing to see it again. It was a cook and the local butcher's son... They were both so brawny...” James sighed, rolling his eyes at his own younger self. He shivered, as a warm tongue skipped along his sensitive ear.
“Did ya touch yourself?”
“I did...,” he said quietly, not without shame. “I’m such a weak man!” He lowered his gaze onto his own erection. He couldn’t resist the temptation that was presented by Ira.
“The hole as well?” Ira breathed with excitement. His hot hand gripped the other man’s thigh.
James’ eyes opened wider. “No!” he said fast, though it wasn’t actually the full truth. He had touched himself between his buttocks, just never inside.
“I’m a lucky man then” Ira breathed, feeding him again and nuzzling his long, wet hair with the side of his face.
James smiled slightly. “You think? You’re not worried my lack of experience will be annoying?” he sighed.
Ira pressed closer, sighing quietly. “I’ll get you plenty experience,” he promised, suddenly grabbing James’ suitcase from the side of the bed and opening it on his lap.
The aristocrat looked at him, surprised. “Let’s put that away...,” he moaned, embarrassed by the contents.
Instead of doing that, Ira grabbed the other man’s hair close to his head and teasingly bit his ear. “You are going to be so tight for me, boy” he breathed excitedly.
James gasped and felt a shiver down his spine when he looked into Ira’s eyes, as if he were looking at God himself. “A man like you had never approached me...” he whispered and his erection became stiffer, under the suitcase.
“And if one would... show me what he would do to you,” Ira murmured, running his fingers down James’ arm and into the suitcase, “Show me.”
James couldn’t force himself to speak of these things, but showing Ira a picture seemed more possible. All of a sudden, he started a frantic search for the picture that came to his mind. He had pleasured himself to it uncountable times. Finally he found it and turned it to Ira, with cheeks red and a pant escaping from his lips. The drawing was of a young man bent over a wooden gate in a stable, his trousers pulled down and buttocks fully exposed to another man, behind him: older, bigger, rough looking, with a big stiff cock sticking out of his breeches. They weren’t having sex just yet, but it was obvious what would happen in the next few seconds. There was a tension in the younger mans arms as he was gripping the gate with both hands, while he was being held down by the other man at the back of the neck.
Even looking at it now, made James feel flustered and it appeared as though it had the same effect on Ira. The man licked his lip, grunting loudly and bit the side of his partner’s face hungrily.
“You’d like it, huh? Being bent over and fucked like a mare with a stallion's cock?” he insisted, pulling the younger man even closer, with urgency. James could see that his dick was fully erect and ready. And what a piece it was: long and fat, topping a heavy sack and growing out of a thick bush of dark hair, which trailed down the older man’s thighs and over his abdomen. Strangely, the foreskin didn't cover the head of the penis, but James wouldn't let that bother him.
“I do feel that concept is extremely attractive,” he swallowed, looking down at the other man’s body. In comparison, he was extremely fair skinned, but his torso and crotch were covered with some dark hair.
Ira smiled wickedly. “What else do you want?” he urged the aristocrat, seemingly unable to stop himself from touching him.
James smiled lightly and reciprocated the caress, moving closer to kiss his lips. “I want you,” he said. “You seem like such a strong, free man, willing to just take whatever he wants...” He already imagined how this throbbing flesh would tear into his body.
Ira hissed loudly, grabbing his face in a tight grip and opening his lips in a brusque manner. His warm tongue teased James’ as they suddenly fell into the clean covers. The suitcase slid from the younger man’s knees and he heard it hitting the floor with a thud, but he could not care less. The weight of hard, naked flesh on top of him seemed to be the most important thing in the universe at that moment.
“Oh God! You’re so heavy!” gasped James with a gleam in his eyes. “I love it!” Even the burns didn’t bother him much anymore. He considered it a price to be paid for pleasure.
“Yeah?” Ira let his full body weight lay on the other man and continued to ravish his mouth and neck. They both groaned every time he ground his crotch into James’. Nothing else seemed to matter at this moment as they clung to each other feverishly. The younger man wrapped his arms around Ira’s neck.
“Be careful!” he squealed once, as the man’s lips got too close to the burns. Lack of patience was overcoming him though, and he slid a hand in between their bodies, to touch Ira’s hard cock.
“Hush, boy!” the other man commanded, suddenly forcing himself to calm down. His ragged breathing was evidence of how hard it was for him to stop at that moment, but he managed to pull himself together to stand up. Even laying flat on the bed, James could see his darkened erection and flushed face. “Sit up.”
Instantly, the aristocrat did as Ira asked and looked up to him like a hungry puppy. He sat up straight, trying to flex his muscles and look a bit bigger. Ira let out a strangled breath, taking hold of his own member and pumping it slowly. Looking the other man straight in the eye, he took hold of his long hair, yanking him forward, continuing to masturbate just by the side of his beautiful face. He was breathing loudly, brushing the head of his prick along the pronounced cheekbone with each upward move of his thick fist.