and the zipper came down, revealing that he was wearing royal blue bikinis in silk, what else? There is no way to get real pants off of anyone gracefully. I peeled the pants down Asher's long legs, slipped off the shoes that he was still wearing, there were no socks to bother with. He lay back, cradled against Jean-Claude, wearing nothing but the tiny blue silk undies. I wanted to snatch them away from him. I wanted to see him completely nude, it seemed more important than anything else. To finally see if the scars went all the way across.
I crawled forward and licked the edge of his stomach, so that my tongue dipped just below the waistband of the silk, an echo of what I'd done to his pants. I could feel him pressed against the thin cloth, the hardness of him brushing against my chin as I moved around his waist.
I went back to the right side and the scars that dribbled down to mid-thigh. I licked, kissed, and bit along them until he cried out. Then I did the same to his other thigh, going lower until I licked the back of his knee, and he whimpered.
Jean-Claude's voice came almost strangled, "Ma petite,please."
I looked up, the tip of my tongue still playing lightly on the very edge of the bend of Asher's knee. Asher's eyes were rolled almost back into his head. I knew things through Jean-Claude's memories that only a lover would know, such as the fact that he loved having the backs of his knees licked.
"Please, what?" I asked.
"Please, finish it."
I knew what he meant. I crawled back up until I was kneeling between their legs again. The blue silk was stretched tight, and this time it was very erotic.
I slid my fingers in the top of the silk, and it was Asher's hands that spilled eager, helping slide the silk down his hips. I pulled the silk down his thighs, but was only half paying attention, because I was staring at what had been revealed.
Scars dribbled from his thigh towards the groin like white worms frozen under the skin, but they stopped a few inches short of the groin, and he lay thick, and long, and straight, and perfect.
I had a confused image of him with the scars fresh, and he was misshapen, unable to become fully erect, twisted to one side, unable to perform.
I had to shake my head to clear the memory. I met Jean-Claude's gaze. I'd never seen him look so utterly lost, shocked, amazed. I had never seen so many different emotions flow across his face. He was finally caught between laughter and tears. "Mon ami,what . . ."
"There was a doctor only a few years ago, who thought that most of the scarring was in the foreskin, and it was."
Jean-Claude laid his head on Asher's shoulder, lost in that golden hair, and he wept, and cried. "All this time . . . all this time, and I thought it was my fault, you were ruined, and it was my fault."
Asher reached back and stroked Jean-Claude's hair. "It was never your fault, mon ami.If you had been with us when we were taken, they would have done to you what they did to me, and that I could not have borne. If you had not been free to save me, I would be dead now, along with our Julianna."
They held each other and cried, and laughed, and healed, and I was suddenly superfluous, kneeling on the bed in my lingerie. And for once, I didn't mind in the least.
Chapter 13~14
13
Jean-Claude released the ardeurwith less than an hour to go, before they would die. I did not want to be trapped underneath anyone when that happened. But the ardeurhad been denied longer than I'd ever denied it, and it was like a force of nature, a storm that broke over us, washed away Jean-Claude's clothes and what was left of mine.
I took Asher into my mouth and explored the perfection of him, found the one thin scar that trailed down his scrotum. I sucked the ridge of scar tissue into my mouth and made him cry out above me.
It was chance more than planning that put Jean-Claude underneath me, inside me, with Asher at my back, his weight beating into both of us, but without an opening to claim. Or without an opening I was willing to share. I could feel the length of Asher pressed along my back. Every time