Excerpt #2-NSF-The first time.
Alain’s POV.
I
poured myself a drink while I waited. Something unexpected was happening
tonight, and my reaction—to shield Colin rather than lay waste—was puzzling.
What was it about this cheeky boy that called up such a protective streak? Was
it our age difference that concerned me or his mild case of jitters? The latter
was surprising after his posturing. Colin Maitland was entitled and accustomed
to issuing orders. Most significant of all was his assumption that I was
expected to do his bidding. There was a key element to this Gordian knot that
was infuriating.
Once
again, I tried getting more information from the flames that rose up from the
iron grate. Murmuring familiar incantations, I waited for a vision. The fire
gradually changed from gold to purple. There was a castle in the mist, and the
image of another boy who looked like Colin but opposite in coloring. The
ghostly figure was decked out in full Scottish regalia, complete with sword and
cap, but the yards of forest-green and black tartan wool were too much for his
slight figure. He looked like a child playing dress up. The eerie apparition
left more questions than answers.
Colin
fumbled with the bathroom door, and I snapped my fingers, sending the amethyst
vapors back where they came from. He was wearing one of my robes, the maroon
brocade, and any trepidation I’d felt a moment ago vanished the moment our eyes
locked. Colin was stunning, and the invisible thread between us tugged hard,
enough for me to unbutton my fly and step out of my pants while he watched. I
was already shirtless, and as I walked naked toward him, the color rose in his
cheeks. The stirring of fabric at his groin was another good sign that he was
emerging from his recent meltdown, the resilience of youth working in my favor.
“Alain,”
Colin whispered.
“At
your service,” I replied, my voice gone husky with need.
Colin
licked his lips and joy flooded my veins. I wasn’t sure what I would have done
if he’d resisted, but that didn’t seem to be an issue as he soaked up the sight
of my body.
“You’re
fucking gorgeous,” Colin said, transfixed.
“For
an old man,” I replied.
Colin
waved away the joke and stepped closer, eyes bright with anticipation. He
stopped in front of me and took what he needed, savoring my taste like a guest
at a banquet. I tugged off the robe and silk pooled at his feet. Colin was
stunning, by any standards, and my mouth watered as I envisioned his impressive
cock stuffed down my throat.
But
the boy slowly sank to his knees and buried his face in my pubes. He seemed
intent on pleasuring me, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to stop him. To be
fair, I’d had better blowjobs, but Colin’s inexperience was trumped by his
unrestrained enthusiasm. He feasted on my organ, taking my length in a
gluttonous move that made him gag, but he quickly adjusted. Sound
effects—whimpers, moans, sloppy sucking—added an erotic component that
heightened my pleasure. I was too close and clutched his head to control the
tempo. He relinquished the lead, and his compliance acted like a spark to my
parched libido. I drove in deep, and since he didn’t object, I picked up speed
and began fucking his mouth in earnest. Colin curled his hands around my
thighs, but he didn’t pull away, allowing me to use him. Lights flickered and
colorful sparks of energy flared around us as I came with a shout, pumping hot
spend down his throat in a steady stream. He swallowed convulsively while warm
cum splashed my calves and feet as Colin crested and shuddered through his own
orgasm.
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