The Tutor (14 page)

case someone more sinister than their father walked the halls. One cot was empty. The boys occupied a single bed, their blond heads sharing a pillow, both of them sound asleep. I thought of the twins in the womb that way, curved around each other, sleeping and waking together in limbo. After being that close for so long, it was a wonder they could ever bear to be apart.

I closed the door softly and started to pad back to my room. I doubted I’d sleep,

but I might read until dawn. A flash of something blue farther down the hall caught my attention. By the time I focused, it was gone.

I hurried after it, around the corner. Nothing there. I started to turn back, but once again a movement far ahead in the shadows beckoned me onward. The trailing skirt of a dress? I hurried to catch up.

Down hallways and up stairways, the bit of blue lured me like a bird fluttering

just beyond reach. Once more I found myself in front of the chapel door. I pushed the door open.

The chamber was darker than last time I’d visited. A single lit candle graced the

altar. Its light glinted off a metal flask that Sir Richard lifted to his mouth. The man sprawled in the front pew, long legs stretched in front of him, no shoes on his stocking feet. Nor did he wear a coat, waistcoat, or tie, only his shirt, unbuttoned at the throat, cuffs loosened. Not only his clothes but his hair was in disarray. The rumpled locks and disheveled clothing made him seem younger, but when he rose and turned toward me, he was a fully grown and intimidating man.

“You followed me?”

I followed
something.
I didn’t bother to explain. “Your footsteps woke me.”

He swayed a little, took another swallow from the flask, and beckoned me with it.

“Come here.”

I could no more have refused his order than the Light Brigade would have refused

their commander before that famous charge. I set down my lantern and went to him,

smelling the stench of alcohol before I reached him. Not just a little drunk. Falling-down-and-passing-out drunk. And angry drunk, I guessed as I gazed into his eyes.

“Why?” He slurred the one word.

Why was I there? Why were we attracted to each other? Why wouldn’t I leave

him alone? I didn’t know what his question was, but a second later, it didn’t matter. He seized hold of me, hauled me up against him, and pressed a single bruising kiss to my mouth before jerking away.

“Don’t look at me.” He turned me around, and I felt his hardness pushing against

my backside. My own cock rose in solidarity—
Yes, friend, I will join you in this
endeavor.
I could hardly breathe, I wanted his rough hands all over me so badly. And then they were.

Allinson bent my upper body over the altar and gathered up my nightshirt to bare

my legs and arse. His palms stroked from my waist down, gliding over my naked flesh, touching, kneading, sending fireworks through my body. He raked the tip of his thumb up my crack, and my hole clenched in anticipation. My legs shook as I lay sprawled with my cheek against cold granite like some sacrificial virgin. I listened to Richard fumble at his fly and curse when he couldn’t get his drunken fingers to cooperate.

I was no stranger to a little rough play. I’d welcomed it on many an occasion, but when Allinson muttered, “God forgive me,” I knew this time it was wrong.

I began to straighten. He grasped the back of my neck and forced me down again.

I shook off his grip and lurched upright, turning toward him. “No. I’m up for a bit a fun, but not wit’ you hatin’ yourself for it. Look at me,” I demanded and waited for his bleary eyes to focus on mine. “There’s nuffin’ evil here. Fuckin’s as natural as breathin’.

You hafta believe that. No shame or guilt, or I’ll have none of it, awright?”

Richard blinked, and I realized I’d gone East Ender in the heat of the moment. I

quickly repaired my posh accent. “Do you understand me?”

I pressed my palm against his chest over his rapidly beating heart. “Relax. Let

yourself enjoy this. And, for tonight, let me bring you off another way.”

He nodded mutely, his eyes glazed and body visibly quivering from excitement. I

knew better than to think he’d suddenly mastered his guilt or sobered up, but at that point, I didn’t much care. I wanted him too badly to let anything interrupt what came next.

I dragged my hands down from his chest, over his rigid abdomen, to the top of his

trousers, which I deftly unfastened. A quick tug over narrow hips, and both trousers and smalls came down. His cock thrust forward, thick and proud, clearly unashamed to declare
its
position on what should happen.

Our bodies are often so much wiser than our brains
, I thought as I sank to my knees on hard stone.

For a few seconds, I simply stroked my fist up and down his length, and gazed at

Richard’s shocked and eager expression. So lovely to see him come undone. I continued to watch his reaction when I brought the flushed tip to my lips and gave it a long, slow, wet kiss. His eyes nearly closed, and breath hissed between his teeth. He swayed. Fearful his legs might buckle and he’d collapse on me, I took hold of the sharp blades of his hips and backed him against the altar so he could brace himself.

Once more I took hold of warm, firm flesh, so satisfyingly heavy in my hand.

“Are you ready?” I asked.

He nodded.

“No guilty feelings?”

He shook his head obediently, a compliant drunk now rather than an angry one.

I licked his length, savoring the salt and musk, then drew him deeply into my

mouth. Richard groaned. His knuckles whitened as his fingers gripped the edge of the altar. I withdrew his cock and admired the gleaming wet length before sucking again.

Richard gave another satisfied groan and wore an expression of utter ecstasy when I glanced at his face.

My own cock ached with the need for a touch, but I promised it that would come

later. I continued to focus on giving the best oral gratification I could. I had quite a lot of expertise, and I practiced every trick I knew, light bites and licks, fingernail scratches up the length, ball sucking, thigh nibbling, bunghole probing while simultaneously taking his cock deep into my throat. One thing I was quite good at was making a fellow come.

Once I’d settled into relentless sucking, driving Richard ever upward, I didn’t stop until his body began to tense. His upper body angled away from me, half draped over the altar as he leaned back on his elbows. His head rolled back, exposing his throat, and his chest rose and fell rapidly. The sight of this powerful man made vulnerable was so beautiful, I couldn’t drag my gaze away as I forced him over the edge and watched him take that long, blissful fall.

He thrust his hips sharply and groaned as his cock pulsed. I swallowed his

spending and rubbed his erection until the last spasm passed through it. Then I sat back on my heels and studied every bare inch of the man. I wished I’d had him take off his shirt. Was it too late now to strip him completely and do more things with his handsome body? No. For I believed once that smile faded from his lips and he came back to himself, this miraculous moment would be over. Doubt and shame would flood back in, and he’d flee from me. I’d had a few of his ilk before and knew how difficult it was for them to let go of their notions about what a man must never do.

But Richard—not Sir Richard now, at least not in my mind—surprised me.

His eyes flickered open, and he looked down upon me at his feet. He held out a

hand to pull me up, and though he was still drunk, he was able to without toppling over.

We faced each other in silence for several moments. The usual light comments

that came easily to my tongue were absent. For once, I didn’t know what to say. I

expected him to put his cock away, straighten his clothes, and leave, later pretending as if none of this had happened—until next time his need grew too urgent.

Instead, he pulled me close with the hand that still clutched mine and held me

against him. I relaxed into strong arms and listened to his voice rumble in his chest when he spoke. “Let me do the same for you. I want to.”

I stepped away while Richard fastened his trousers. He motioned me to sit in the

front pew. I obeyed and waited, handing control over to him.

He dropped heavily to his knees in front of me like a suitor about to propose, and for several seconds, simply looked at me as though deciding how to proceed. My cock helpfully tented the fabric of my nightshirt to make certain he could see it there. Richard bit his lower lip and tentatively reached toward the hem of my shirt.

“You haven’t done this before,” I said.

He shook his head. “Not this. Other things.”

With who? I wondered, but this wasn’t the time to pry out more secrets.

“No hurry. You don’t have to do anything you don’t wish to.” I stroked back a

lock of hair that had fallen over his glazed eyes, but the gesture felt too intimate—

somehow more than having his cock in my mouth.

“But I
do
wish to,” he hastened to answer with a drunkard’s effusive desire to make himself understood. “I’ve dreamed of this, perhaps since I first saw you.”

I preened at the compliment. Good to know I wasn’t the only one who’d felt a

flare of attraction that day.

Richard rested a hand on my thigh, bunching up the fabric of the nightshirt, then

smoothing it again. “I apologize for before.” He gazed at his own hand rather than look into my eyes. “I tried to force you. That’s not my nature. It was as if something possessed me.” He glanced at me with a rueful smile. “Perhaps nearly an entire flask of whisky.”

I smiled back. “I don’t mind a little roughness now and again. And I like being

fucked in the arse. But it goes more smoothly with some lubrication.”

He flinched when I said
fucked
and swallowed hard at the word
lubrication
. “I haven’t done that before either,” he admitted softly.

Just what in the hell
had
he done and with whom? My cat was dying of curiosity, but I knew it would be better to let Richard confess on his own. Though he knelt at my knee like a penitent, I was not his priest to order up five Hail Marys and an Act of Contrition, nor was he a Catholic, prone to the barter of prayers for grace.

Richard kept reflexively bunching and smoothing my nightshirt against my leg.

The repetitious tickle of fabric was more erotic than if he’d gone straight for my goods.

My cock pulsed each time he smoothed the cotton against my bare skin.

I studied his frowning face and realized I no longer thought of Allinson as in a

position of authority over me. I was the one with experience. He was the novice to be tutored. And he was nervous.

“Listen, you can’t get it wrong. I’ll appreciate anything you do, trust me. Just

think about what you would enjoy and do that,” I suggested.

He slid the nightshirt up a few more inches, baring my pale, hairy legs. He licked his lips, and I swallowed hard. My cock tensed almost painfully, unwilling to wait much longer for the touching to begin.

“Will it help if I close my eyes and don’t watch you?” I asked.

He nodded, and that lock of hair fell over his forehead again. I left it there this time, because he looked so adorable that way.

I leaned back, arms stretched along the top of the pew, and closed my eyes.

Thinking of all the people who’d come here to worship God added an extra twist of

forbidden pleasure to what we were doing. Fantasies of lewd public displays before an audience drove my urgency to a new level. And then, at last, Richard’s hands slid up my thighs, pushing the nightshirt higher and higher until cool air brushed my groin.

My cock jutted forward, waiting, waiting, waiting… Fingers tickled the tender

flesh of my inner thighs, making me shiver, and then a large, warm hand circled my staff and gripped it. I exhaled in relief. This was what I’d craved for days—a release of tension beyond what I gave myself during private moments, a physical connection with this man, whom I desired with an unreasonable intensity.

As warm breath tickled my intimate flesh, followed by the scouring heat of

Richard’s mouth, I gripped the back of that pew hard to keep from being utterly swept away. Hot, wet, deeper and deeper he engulfed me. I tried to distance myself from that point of contact lest I immediately give in to pleasure.

Richard’s mouth drew away, leaving my cock damp and chilled. “Wasn’t that

right? You’re frowning.”

I rocked my hips forward to beg for more. “You’re doing wonderfully. Carry on,

please. I’m just trying to keep from coming in your face.”

A small “Oh” and then more heat and slippery wetness surrounded me. Now he

sucked, a bit sloppily but oh so endearingly eager. Richard sucked so hard and rubbed my root so firmly, I thought he’d milk me dry. I groaned and shifted on the hard wooden bench, inhaling sour alcohol and pipe smoke and a faint whiff of burning candle wax.

The darkness behind my closed eyes intensified every scent, every sensation, but I needed more.

I wanted not only to feel but to
see
Sir Richard Allinson sucking me off like a Spitalfields molly. Through my eyelashes, I watched his handsome head bob up and down, his hollowed cheeks and lips stretched around my girth. What a gloriously

perverse and thrilling sight. Relaxing against the hard bench, I felt like a pasha accepting the succor of his servant.

Richard’s fist moved briskly as he massaged me for several minutes, and he never

flagged in his slurping and sucking. The tension in my balls grew tighter and then, all in a moment, my excitement became too great to contain. I moaned louder and thrust forward so my cock nearly choked him. My cry of release echoed through the chapel.

I hadn’t warned Richard it was coming, so he didn’t pull off but swallowed every

drop. He waited for the last convulsion to pass through me before letting my cock slip from between his glistening lips. He drew away, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, and looked up at me with
have I satisfied you?
eyes.