can’t honestly say that I remember what it was all about. Something entirely puerile, no doubt. Something to do with the form master’s hairpiece, I think. Anyway, I lost, and I had to wank into my hand and taste the blob of cum on my finger. It was very exciting. I wouldn’t have had the courage to do that if I hadn’t been…you know, honor-bound.”
“What a fascinating life you have led!”
His eyebrows twitch in ironic acknowledgment, but his eyes and his mouth are serious.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Are you sad?” I ask, and even I can hear the anxious tone in my voice.
He smiles and scoots down the sofa so he can push his head underneath my t-shirt and sweater, like a small boy who hides from the world. His playfulness makes me laugh, but there is something strangely arousing in the childish—child-like—embrace of this broad-shouldered, gray-haired man.
Meanwhile his hands roam over my naked thighs and under my t-shirt in a way that is not in the least child-like. He reappears, cradling my hips in his hands, and trails an intoxicating line of kisses across my belly just above my panties and along the insides of my legs. His lips and nose caress my crotch through the hot, damp cotton. I feel him settling his lips over my clitoris, the tip of his tongue finds the tip of my clit, and for a crazy second I regret not having a cock that he could suck into his mouth.
“Will you stay until I’ve had a proper go at you?”
His tongue burns the hard little cotton-covered nub of flesh. Slowly he laps at it, teases it, and the sensation floods my pelvis like an epic deluge of lust and makes my heart pound almost painfully in my chest. His lips form an O over my clit, and he exhales slowly against it.
“Y-Yyy-aaah!”
“Is that a yes?”
“Giles!”
“Hmmm?”
“Giles, stop that. Or finish it, but don’t—”
He raises his head and looks at me with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.
“Don’t tease?”
“Yes…no.”
His eyes narrow, and I brace myself for the imminent assault.
“Oh, all right.” He shrugs his shoulders in a show of unconcern and clambers onto his feet. “The fire needs stoking anyway.”
For the second time this evening I watch him busying himself around the room, this time stark naked, which to my delight doesn’t seem to bother him at all. I curl up on the sofa in my socks and sweater and watch him. The long, well-defined strands of muscle in his legs and his back, his pale, tight buttocks gleaming in the dim light.
“I can’t believe that none of the older boys at school had a crush on you.” I lean on my elbow and smile at him. Giles looks up from the grate, clearly taken aback. “You have such a fine ass…‘arse,’ as you’d say.”
“Well, as for that, madam, your own little tush is very fine, too.”
“Thanks…but I wasn’t fishing.”
“As indeed, why should you? You’re used to men lusting after you.”
There he stands, slimmer and more angular than Michelangelo’s David, more boyish, but just as perfect in his nakedness, and suddenly there is an acid tone in his voice. I register the electric flash that runs along my nerves. Wait while it peaks and fades. A remark like that would have really hurt me, a few years ago. I am more resilient now. I have grown, I am a little harder, and generally much better at protecting myself.
“And I thought I was paying you a compliment,” I muse aloud. “I’m sorry if I’ve trespassed into a no-go area, Giles.”
And it works. His rigid posture relaxes. I hadn’t even seen him tense up, but he relaxes and casts down his eyes.
“What, school-boy crushes?” He had already forgotten about that question. “Oh, I’m not bothered about that. The geography master fondled my bottom once or twice, but then he fondled pretty much every boy’s bottom. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. I guess I was thinking how young you look, and what you must have looked like when you—”
“Were.” His voice is dry as winter leaves. “Young.”
“No!”
He grins at me with that ironic incredulity that makes me want to hit him.
“Are you hungry?” he asks. “Have you eaten?”
“I’m not hungry!”
“Drink?”
“You’re horrible! I’d like a glass of water, please.”
He gives a curt nod and walks off into the kitchen, to reappear a few seconds later with two glasses, a jug of water and an open but full bottle of red wine.