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Sleep Tonight

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The night I had brought my friend home from the railway station, I found myself unable to wrench my eyes from his ethereal beauty. Slumped against the arm of an elegant and old wing-chair in my parlor, he slept like a spell had been placed upon him; looking for all the Heavens like a statue, effortlessly poised and propped against the fine wooden fixture as though it were a throne.

His thin, pink lips parted as though he meant to speak; cracked and dry despite his unconscious efforts to lick them back to a moisturized state. My friend breathed deeply, steadily through his nose and out of his mouth heavily; panting almost, as his strong and sturdy chest rose and fell with a rhythm almost too hasty to be considered otherwise.

His eyelids were shrouded in shadows; drawn over his lustrous black eyes, shielding the great and wise depths that lay beneath them from my prying mind. If I looked hard enough, I could just make out the way his eyes danced behind those lids as he was swept up in his dreams. Dreams I wished too to experience—to share with this man who I desperately wished to have as mine.

My friend and my guide, my partner and my teacher—my lover...

My hand gripped tight at the bulbous base of my wine class as I tried yet to pry my eyes away from my sleeping mentor. The wine sloshed almost to the brim, disturbed my abrupt movement, and clearly flustered at my own wanton desires, I gracefully rolled my wrist to set it right; to make it seem as though I had done it on purpose.

Left to think, usually I would become bored of my own company; sick of my idle hands looking for something or another to fidget with—but as I waited for my friend to rouse from his slumber and watched him sit perfectly still in the spot with which I had left him, I just could not find it in myself to feel anything but the desire that lurked at the depths of my being like a mugger in the shroud of a poorly lit alley; waiting for a moment to strike out at an unsuspecting victim as I waited for my friend to turn his dazzling smile that told only the beginnings of the worlds he had seen onto me, charming and seductive; voice a deep thrumming tenor that melted me from the inside out.

I brought my glass to my lips and drained it of its contents greedily, trying to extinguish my animalistic urges; my absolute need to be taken by my friend. The wine did little to help; conversely, it only aided in making my thoughts more depraved. Lust coiled like the flames of Olympus in the pit of my stomach, growing hotter than anything I had ever felt before, searing—branding me with need so raw that it was much too strong to have been only my own.

I choked as I dropped my emptied glass onto the floor beside my chair. Fine crystalline shattered into thousands of pieces on my floor but I paid it no mind as the collar of my shirt was suddenly too constraining. I tore it, along with my tie free from my neck and sucked in several greedy breaths.

I could smell him all over... My friend's robust fragrance had my pulse pounding in my ears; my blood absolutely singing for him.

I was on my knees before his feet by the time I came back to myself. My head buried in the seat of his lap as I held him fast with my arms wrapped around his powerful thighs. I greedily took in his masculine scent as I nudged at the thick flesh tucked modestly away in a pair of black tweed trousers. In the back of my mind, a voice screamed to me—at me.

I could be hanged for this—for these desires. I should stop!

But I did not.

I could not.

I took him into my mouth like a dutiful whore and did not care that he was bitter and musky; or that he was too big to fit without agitating my reasonable gag-reflex and bringing tears to my eyes.

I pleasured him like a catamite: clumsily and eager. It was filthy and sinful but I groaned when he came in my mouth with a stuttering little breath that had his broad shoulders sagging as though relieved of the heavy burden of the world.

He had remained unconscious amid the act and I was thankful, for I did not wish to chase him off with my debauchery. Rising to my feet, punchy and still thoroughly aroused, I tucked him away and climbed into his lap thereafter to bury my face in the hollow of his throat. My face was tickled by his facial hair. Breathing in his scent, I captured one of his idle hands and guided it into my own trousers, where I used my friend as an instrument to bring me to my climax.

A climax that shattered my world.

A climax that robbed me of my breath, my vision, and my mind.

I collapsed against him and sobbed as I shuddered with the release of my seed betwixt our hands; nothing more than a quivering mass of limbs as my soul sprang forth from my physical body and took to the musky atmosphere above us to soar and rejoice like a leaf caught in a squall.

It took what felt like eons to recover from my gut-wrenching release, but even then I could not yet move for I was too weak; both due to being physically drained and because I was simply too comfortable slumped against the over-warm security of my friend's broad body.

Breathing in our entwined scents, I closed my eyes and I too dreamt of far off worlds and landscapes unfeasible in the guileless mind of man—but even swept off in the realm of dreams, so far removed from reality and tangibility as I soared through nightscapes almost so surreal that it burned to witness it all, I could feel my friend's arms tighten around me.

In his protective hold, I wished to never awaken.