of impasse as we stared at one another, I bit my lip, my fingers tingled, and my groin pulsed with arousal. Then, as if set free after a time of imprisonment, in unison, we leaped from our seats and collided like rutting stags, our mouths crushing together in an intense, hot, messy kiss. We tumbled backward onto the banquette seat at the rear of the coach. Once again, I was sinning in the dark and with the surge of desire and adoration for the man I clasped roughly, I did not care.
The undulating motion of the coach did nothing to dissipate my arousal. I was painfully hard already and with the occasional jolts of the carriage on the rough roadways, and Cavell’s thigh pressed between mine, I was worried that I would reach the critical moment far too soon! Cavell had seen to me the last time we had enjoyed an assignation in a carriage, and so this time he would find his release first.
My grasping hands moved down his tight, athletic body, under his clothing, tugging without a care until my hand met the warm smooth flesh at his abdomen. I pushed my hand lower past his waistband; the button that had fastened the trousers popped from its threads and fired off to ping against a window. We pulled our magnetized mouths away from one another for a second to laugh.
“I should punish you for what you put me through tonight,” I warned lustfully.
“Do your worst!” Cavell challenged. And so I got to work again, my hand moving lower, past Cavell’s soft, prickly bush of pubic hair and to my prize. My fingers enveloped the satisfying heaviness of his blisteringly hot erection. When my hand fully gripped his cockstand and began to stroke Sebastian arched his back and cried out as if it was painful.
“Yes, yes, squeeze me harder, I love it so”, he groaned as if he was going out of his mind with lust. He began to make rapid piston movements, fucking my fist while he mauled my mouth and my throat. His movements were fevered, animalistic and I vowed I would not let go of the hot column of flesh in my hand until it unloaded his sticky nectar into my palm. It did not take long. The coach turned a sharp corner and impulsively my hand tensed and I tugged, trying to keep my slick grip. Cavell seemed to like rough treatment for that forceful movement sent him over the edge. His body went rigid on top of me and he groaned with relief as my fingers were soon wetted by gushes of his precious spend. He collapsed atop me; his face nestled in the crook of my neck.
Coming to my senses I realized what an obscene exhibit we made, splayed half on-half off the black buttoned leather seat. I pushed Cavell off me, righted myself, and with a lustful rasp I gasped.
“I’ve sent my servants away for a few days. My house is empty—” The connotations of that statement were all too clear. Cavell sat up and rested his head on the back of the seat and shuddered with laughter. I knew as I licked his spend from my hand, that I was a lost cause. Cavell had unleashed the beast in me and it lusted only for him.
Sebastian watched me licking his spill from my fingers. His laughter vanished, his look grew dark, and he gasped.
“My God, Benedict. Look what you do to me!”
“Dear boy,” I replied
“I haven’t even started!”
Domesticity
For two days and nights Sebastian and I were alone at my Townhouse where, in privacy, we became more acquainted with one another’s pleasures a little better. Two days with my friend was not enough by far, and our time together was not only about slaking mutual lust. We talked a great deal, ate together, and used up evenings with fireside reading. More than the passionate sensuality, it was the companionship that made my heart flutter. I had previously convinced myself I was not worthy of a companion and would make a morose partner, but it was surprisingly easy to make space in my life for Sebastian. We had many intellectual pursuits in common—he appreciated art and antiques. We both read widely and enjoyed the music of Elgar. We read out newspaper stories to one another and laughed at the character assassinations of The Gentleman Thief, or Dandy Rogue—the use of moniker dependant on the quality of the newspaper! Quality presses used the former,