Thomas's Choice
Page 7
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The man chuckled softly. “Not my name, but I’ll take it any day.” Then he squeezed harder.
Thomas’s heart raced, his chest labored to bring much needed air to his body, and his hands clutched the lapels of the stranger’s coat, pulling him closer. With every stroke, he panted more uncontrollably. And with every second his control slipped further.
“But I haven’t even started yet.”
As if to prove his words, the stranger unbuttoned the flap of Thomas’s trousers, pushed aside his undergarments, and took his shaft into his hand. The firm grip, the contact of flesh on flesh, nearly undid him. His head fell against the wall behind him. He closed his eyes and surrendered to the alluring touch, knowing that fighting his own desire was impossible now.
Tender words drifted to his ears, giving him the illusion of floating. He’d never felt anything like it, not even during his most powerful orgasms. But the way this stranger stroked his cock and whispered sweet words into his ear while he kissed Thomas’s neck, made him toss caution to the wind.
Forgotten was the fact that anybody passing by could see them engage in this indecent act, an act that could get them both thrown in jail. Forgotten was the fact that he didn’t even know the man’s name. Nothing mattered. Nothing but the immediate pleasure that this man was promising without asking anything in return.
“More,” Thomas begged. “Harder!”
His companion complied without protest, stroking him more firmly, squeezing him harder and faster, bringing him ever closer to completion.
“Yes, yes, that’s it.”
Lips licked at the crook of his neck, teeth scraped gently against Thomas’s heated skin. From somewhere a voice penetrated.
“Yes, come, my young friend. Spend for me. Surrender.”
Surrender. Yes, it was all he wanted. Surrender to the touch of this man, give himself up to the pleasure, bathe in the lust of the moment. Without thinking, without regrets. Simply feel.
His balls tightened, and his cock jerked. Then he felt the rush of his semen as it traveled through his shaft as if shot from a pistol. Waves of pleasure washed over him and lifted him up as if he were floating. At the same time, a stinging pain shot through his neck. It was fleeting— too fleeting for it to be real. He had to be hallucinating, because the pleasure this stranger was giving him was making him drunk—drunk on lust, on desire, on sex. Drunk on the sensation of this man’s lips locking on his neck, kissing him in a way that felt surreal.
As if the kiss were a bite.
3
Thomas opened his eyes and looked around. Startled, he sat up on a divan. He wasn’t in the alley anymore. Instead he found himself in an opulently furnished salon. And he wasn’t alone.
Far from it.
He tried to take in what he saw, but his mind took a few seconds to process the scene in front of his eyes. There were close to a dozen people in the room—partially dressed people, mostly men, but there were several women among them too. If he were prudish, he would have found the entire scenario scandalous, but he couldn’t quite conjure up such a feeling. Instead, he looked around with interest. A man had his trousers pushed down to his knees, his bare ass exposed as he was gripping the hips of another man, thrusting back and forth. Thomas didn’t have to get any closer to realize that he was buggering the other man.
Nobody seemed to take any notice of the two, clearly too busy performing similar carnal acts. Thomas’s gaze was drawn to a young man who lay on several pillows strewn on the floor in front of the fireplace. His shirt was open and an older man kissed his chest and tweaked his nipples while he rubbed his loins against the younger man. As Thomas continued watching, he felt his own cock rise at the erotic sight. He grew even harder when he saw the young man opening his trousers and pushing them down over his hips, letting his hard prick jut out. The man above him groaned and dropped his head to the man’s cock, sucking it into his mouth.
Involuntarily, Thomas’s hand went to the bulge that had formed under his trousers.
“Ah, you’re awake.”
At the sound of the voice, Thomas’s head snapped to the side. It only took him a split second to find the man who’d obviously brought him here: the stranger who’d stroked his cock with such skill that Thomas must have fainted when he’d climaxed.
With wide eyes, Thomas stared at him. He sat in a large armchair, his shirt open, exposing his strong chest and dark hair, his trousers missing. Between his legs a half-naked woman kneeled, her head bobbing up and down in his lap, sucking him.
He laid his hand on the back of her head, pulling her up by her hair, then issued his command from between clenched teeth. “Do it like you mean it!” Then his gaze swept back to Thomas, and his hand waved him to approach.
Thomas’s heart raced, his chest labored to bring much needed air to his body, and his hands clutched the lapels of the stranger’s coat, pulling him closer. With every stroke, he panted more uncontrollably. And with every second his control slipped further.
“But I haven’t even started yet.”
As if to prove his words, the stranger unbuttoned the flap of Thomas’s trousers, pushed aside his undergarments, and took his shaft into his hand. The firm grip, the contact of flesh on flesh, nearly undid him. His head fell against the wall behind him. He closed his eyes and surrendered to the alluring touch, knowing that fighting his own desire was impossible now.
Tender words drifted to his ears, giving him the illusion of floating. He’d never felt anything like it, not even during his most powerful orgasms. But the way this stranger stroked his cock and whispered sweet words into his ear while he kissed Thomas’s neck, made him toss caution to the wind.
Forgotten was the fact that anybody passing by could see them engage in this indecent act, an act that could get them both thrown in jail. Forgotten was the fact that he didn’t even know the man’s name. Nothing mattered. Nothing but the immediate pleasure that this man was promising without asking anything in return.
“More,” Thomas begged. “Harder!”
His companion complied without protest, stroking him more firmly, squeezing him harder and faster, bringing him ever closer to completion.
“Yes, yes, that’s it.”
Lips licked at the crook of his neck, teeth scraped gently against Thomas’s heated skin. From somewhere a voice penetrated.
“Yes, come, my young friend. Spend for me. Surrender.”
Surrender. Yes, it was all he wanted. Surrender to the touch of this man, give himself up to the pleasure, bathe in the lust of the moment. Without thinking, without regrets. Simply feel.
His balls tightened, and his cock jerked. Then he felt the rush of his semen as it traveled through his shaft as if shot from a pistol. Waves of pleasure washed over him and lifted him up as if he were floating. At the same time, a stinging pain shot through his neck. It was fleeting— too fleeting for it to be real. He had to be hallucinating, because the pleasure this stranger was giving him was making him drunk—drunk on lust, on desire, on sex. Drunk on the sensation of this man’s lips locking on his neck, kissing him in a way that felt surreal.
As if the kiss were a bite.
3
Thomas opened his eyes and looked around. Startled, he sat up on a divan. He wasn’t in the alley anymore. Instead he found himself in an opulently furnished salon. And he wasn’t alone.
Far from it.
He tried to take in what he saw, but his mind took a few seconds to process the scene in front of his eyes. There were close to a dozen people in the room—partially dressed people, mostly men, but there were several women among them too. If he were prudish, he would have found the entire scenario scandalous, but he couldn’t quite conjure up such a feeling. Instead, he looked around with interest. A man had his trousers pushed down to his knees, his bare ass exposed as he was gripping the hips of another man, thrusting back and forth. Thomas didn’t have to get any closer to realize that he was buggering the other man.
Nobody seemed to take any notice of the two, clearly too busy performing similar carnal acts. Thomas’s gaze was drawn to a young man who lay on several pillows strewn on the floor in front of the fireplace. His shirt was open and an older man kissed his chest and tweaked his nipples while he rubbed his loins against the younger man. As Thomas continued watching, he felt his own cock rise at the erotic sight. He grew even harder when he saw the young man opening his trousers and pushing them down over his hips, letting his hard prick jut out. The man above him groaned and dropped his head to the man’s cock, sucking it into his mouth.
Involuntarily, Thomas’s hand went to the bulge that had formed under his trousers.
“Ah, you’re awake.”
At the sound of the voice, Thomas’s head snapped to the side. It only took him a split second to find the man who’d obviously brought him here: the stranger who’d stroked his cock with such skill that Thomas must have fainted when he’d climaxed.
With wide eyes, Thomas stared at him. He sat in a large armchair, his shirt open, exposing his strong chest and dark hair, his trousers missing. Between his legs a half-naked woman kneeled, her head bobbing up and down in his lap, sucking him.
He laid his hand on the back of her head, pulling her up by her hair, then issued his command from between clenched teeth. “Do it like you mean it!” Then his gaze swept back to Thomas, and his hand waved him to approach.
