by Brooks, LL
With both of them panting, Roger folded forward, sucking Simon’s nipple into his mouth.
“Oh, God in Heaven,” Simon said between moans an instant before he exploded. His hands gripped Roger’s thighs, pressing him down, holding him down while the raptures of climax coursed through his body.
“Yes, yes,” Roger cried softly and bit the nipple in his mouth, his legs clamped tight to Simon.
Pain, pleasure, and fascination racked through Simon. Warm cum squirted across his chest and gut, and his hand moved back to Roger’s cock by its own direction, squeezing while the stiff prick pumped in his hand and went soft. The sensations, the tight little ass clamping him even tighter with each pump, were so overwhelming, he nearly came again. When Roger unfolded, stretched out and rested on Simon’s chest, his arms just naturally folded around Roger’s slight form.
“I think you have bewitched me in some way. I can’t get enough of you,” Simon murmured, shifting for more comfort as his hands rubbed the soft skin of Roger’s back.
“Or I you.”
“Is it true what you said, you’ve never came while fucking before?”
“Yes. It was wonderful, Captain. Thank you for answering a dream for me.”
“I’m no dream,” he said with a scoff, thinking he should push Roger away. His head still told him what they were doing was wrong, but he couldn’t make his arms obey. Gone soft and not even wanting to fuck at the moment, his body craved the feel of Roger against him.
“I could sleep right here,” Roger murmured.
“And catch your death when the water goes cold.”
Roger straightened, not pulling off even though Simon was soft. He splashed water on Simon’s chest, stroking down to wash away his sticky cum, found the soap, and worked up suds in his hands again. Stepping out of the tub, he leaned over the side, soap slick hands going to Simon’s cock and balls until his cock began to stretch and his balls swelled from the attention.
“To the bed, perhaps,” Roger suggested, holding up a towel.
Simon looked down at his growing cock in wonder. To bed? To fuck yet again? How many times now had he taken that sweet little ass when never before had he fucked any woman more than once a night and never into the day? Still, as he wondered, he rose, stepped out of the tub, and stood while Roger turned a simple drying to a ritual that ended with him on his knees, taking Simon’s swollen cock into his hot little mouth. Only when his body began to quake from the strain and his legs trembled did Simon take Roger to the bed. Roger sucked him differently, deliciously different, leaning across his stomach instead of lying between his legs.
Between licks and swallowing to his balls, Roger whispered, “You could touch me.”
The suggestion was not something Simon’s own hands had not thought of, for as before, while Simon’s mind said not, his fingers twitched to reach between Roger’s legs and work his bobbing cock. Closing his eyes, he reached. His fingers closed, and Roger’s hip surged forward, fucking Simon’s fisted hand. He straddled Simon’s shoulders, giving Simon easier reach. Simon used both hands, playing with Roger’s balls with one while he squeezed and pulled his cock with the other.
A new sensation, one clenching his already tight gut, caused Simon to freeze and his eyes pop open.
“To give you pleasure,” Roger told him around the thick cock in his mouth and pressing his finger harder at Simon’s asshole. “I want only to give you pleasure.”
Fighting a brain telling him to push Roger off, his body again refused to move. Roger stuck his finger in his mouth, wetting it and returned to pressing, pushing in. He continued to suck, flick his tongue over the crown, and push his finger deeper. When he drew out and pushed deeper, Simon’s body bucked, pushing back, wanting more. In and out, sucking, licking, Roger drove him crazy. A second finger entered, giving even more pleasure, and Simon’s balls exploded, filling Roger’s mouth to the brim with hot cum.
Gulping to swallow it all, Roger sprawled over Simon, his hand still working his fingers in and out, intensifying each pump of Simon’s body. When the last convulsion passed, Simon groaned in exhaustion. “I’ve got to sleep.”
He would think later of how far he’d slipped into degradation for he had enjoyed the fingers up his ass and wanted more. The only thing worse than fucking an ass was willingly having your ass fucked.
The room was dark when Roger woke Simon. “What are you doing?” Simon, as much asleep as awake, knew what Roger was doing, stroking him, but it felt different. Roger’s hands glided over his skin in a way they hadn’t before.
“Whale oil from your lantern,” Roger explained. “Lubricant to ease your entrance. I have never done it so many times so close together and am a little sore.” He pushed back the foreskin and swirled his finger around the crown. “I suspect you may be a little sore as well.”
“I am,” he admitted lazily and without thought drew his knees up and spread his legs, giving Roger easier access. “That does feel good.”
Roger attempted to kiss him again. When Simon turned his head, Roger whispered, “You can close your eyes and pretend it is a woman you kiss.”
“I have never kissed. I only fuck.”
Roger accepted the rejection and slid down Simon’s body. “I can give you pleasure without rubbing the skin from your cock.” Roger’s hand moved from working the oil into Simon’s balls to the crack of his ass, his fingertip finding his asshole and dipping in quickly.
Simon tensed but made no move to stop Roger’s questing finger, not when it penetrated him as far as it would go, not even when a second finger penetrated. He shifted with some discomfort, a bit of pain, when a third finger joined the first two, still doing nothing to stop Roger. The pleasure was too great and the desire for even more building. He uttered no objections when he knew it was no longer fingers pressing into his hole.
“Slowly,” Roger whispered. “Push out as if you were farting.”
Simon panted in need. He wanted it, he needed it, his hands clutching Roger’s hips, pulling him in despite the pain.
“Put your legs over my shoulders. Tip your butt up to take me in.”
Simon tried to obey while his body screamed out in pain, the thick cock feeling it split him open and still his body demanded. His arms pulled and his hips drove against the invader, taking it deeper.
Roger lay on Simon’s folded legs, his hands between them. He hand fucked Simon’s cock and squeezed his balls, pulling his own cock out slowly, driving back, increasing his pace. With each plunge the pain lessened and the pleasure increased. Something inside him, something Roger touched each time he drove deep built a need in him. Simon went wild. His hips jerked to keep pace with Roger’s in one jerk and jerked to slide inside the circle of fingers gripping his cock. Bucking erratically, he mindlessly clawed at Roger, grinding his teeth, grunting and moaning. His mouth opened to scream. Roger’s lips closed over his, taking the scream, muting it by ramming his tongue in his mouth. In and out the tongue worked his mouth and throat in time with the cock driving in and out of Simon’s ass.
Simon’s body contorted. Hot cum shot from his cock, coating his belly, even reaching his chest. He thought he was going to die; the pleasure shook him with such intensity. He couldn’t catch a breath until Roger’s back arched, his face to the ceiling, his cock pressed hard and deep, pulsating with his climax. The sounds of their moans mixed together, bouncing off the walls.
Together their tangled bodies went limp; Roger sprawled over Simon as his legs fell open.
Still entwined, they fell asleep, their chest glued together with Simon’s cum, the first thing Simon was aware of when he woke a few hours later. The second was their position and remembering how they’d gotten there. Guilt swam over him. His impulse was to give Roger a shove, flip him off. Instead he woke him with a gentle shake.
“You have to leave before the sun comes up.”
Roger cuddled, his arms snaking up around Simon’s neck. “Take me with you.”
“No.” He roll
ed from under him and off the bed, going to the tub of cold water. “Everyone would know why you’re there.” Forcing himself to stand the cold water, he shivered while he washed away the remains of their lovemaking, knowing in his heart what they had shared was more than fucking.
“I heard your conversation with that man. I could hire on—”
“No!”
“There are times we could be together and no one would know why.”
Calming himself down, Simon repeated the single word. “No.” With a deep breath to calm himself further, he didn’t say it would be torture to know Roger was with another man. “They would not be gentle or kind to you. Their abuse would kill you.”
“If I was with you—”
“I said no. I would lose the respect of my crew and word would get back to my family, my friends. I can’t do it. The time we’ve had together must never be known. I meant to rescue you.
Instead you have seduced me.”
“I could not have if it were not your true nature.”
“A weakness I must live with and control.”
“Will you come to me when you return?”
“I can’t see you again. I don’t trust myself around you, and I can’t live a lie.”
Without benefit of even a cold bath, Roger gathered his clothes and dressed. At the door, he paused to say softly, “You are living a lie.”
The words repeated themselves over and over in Simon’s head while he worked through the day. He packed his trunk, ordered it delivered to the ship, and went ahead of it. From dawn until less than an hour before sunset, he oversaw the loading and storing of cargo and stores for the journey. Whenever there was a lull his mind turned to Roger. His cock burned and itched from rubbing himself raw with the repeated fucking. His ass ached from being fucked. Even still, his mind and body wanted more. Roger was right. He was living a lie, denying what he was, though he no longer lied to himself.
After a sponge bath in warm water, he dressed in his best uniform to report to the owner.
The chore was one he never relished. Mister Sardi was an aristocrat with an aristocrat’s arrogant belief everyone of a lower class was inferior. As Simon was in Mister Sardi’s opinion no more than a tradesman despite his rank, Simon was required to stand in his presence to deliver his report. He always found himself smarting under the insult and delivered the report as quickly as possible. Ready to leave, he was astonished when Mister Sardi took on an even more arrogant air.
“You countermanded my orders, Captain Wilkes. Ever do so again and you will find yourself without employment or recommendation.”
“I am unaware of countermanding any orders.”
“You did not order Whale to hire a sissy boy?”
The idea to hire had not originally come from him though he did not explain and prevaricated to save his position. “Your orders were to procure a man to service the crew while at sea.”
“I said procure, Captain Wilkes, not hire, and I did not specify a professional. Any young man of reasonable appearance is all the men need. The wages for hiring on your order will come from you share of the next delivery.”
“He is to be cabin boy as well as a willing ass. There will be no additional wages. The last one procured was not willing and killed by the crew’s brutality. He didn’t last the length of the voyage.”
“Do you question my direction?”
Simon swallowed pride and fought his temper. He could do little to change a practice of years. Sardi gave no value to the life of a commoner. He held no regrets for any who died serving him or as a result of his dictates.
“No, sir.”
“See that it is so or I shall see you never serve aboard a ship again. I understand you were ill.
Will it impede your ability to perform you duties?”
“No, sir.”
“See that it doesn’t.” He flipped his hand in dismissal.
Simon clamped his jaw and left. The encounter left him in a fouler mood than he had been, and Whale, who no doubt had been the bearer of the news of “his order” and his illness, was not smart enough to avoid him. He met Simon as he stepped on deck with a report of his own.
“I got one, just like you said. He’s comely, sturdy, and willing.”
“Keep him away from me.”
“Aye, sir, and I’m to tell you, I’ve got me a passenger. His fare will be taken from my share at the end of the voyage.” He chuckled. “No worries on him giving a bother. He won’t be leaving my cabin.”
A trickle of apprehension sent a chill down Simon’s spine. “Who is it?”
Whale chuckled again. “Took some doing, but I got him. Wiley little man he is for a sissy.
Put up a good fight too. Had to give him a knock on the head to get him quiet like. Haven’t had time to bugger him yet, but come my first off shift he’s going to learn what it means to sashay around, twitching his little ass and letting me know I ain’t good enough to have him even for pay. I’m going to fuck the little bitch boy blind and having him beg−”
Simon spun and ran. He leaped the steps from the deck to the passageway and hit the door to Whale’s cabin, ripping loose the padlock. The rage he fought to control turned to the same horror he saw on Roger’s face. Tied to the berth post and gagged, his face wet with tears, Roger shoved back, drawing into a ball. Simon went sick with regret for what he must have thought that first few seconds before he identified himself by kneeling beside him.
“Has he hurt you?” Simon asked, fumbling to unknot the ropes.
A sob racked Roger’s small body; fresh tears fell from his eyes, but he shook his head.
“Here now,” Whale cried behind them. “What you think you’re doing? I got Mister Sardi’s permission. He said take whoever I wanted, but I had to pay passage.”
“To kidnap a man?” Simon shouted furiously, rubbing the arms that fell limply when released from the ropes.
“He’s just a whore now, ain’t he?”
“He’s a man!” Simon picked Roger up to cradle in his arms. As always with Roger, feelings swept over him he’d never experienced before. Roger’s weight was no problem for him, but Roger was in such shock, his arms curled against his chest instead of holding on. Simon cuddled him closer before he rose with Roger in his arms and faced Whale.
“I got permission. I took him fair. He’s mine.”
“If I have to put him down to move you, I will break you in half,” Simon swore, wanting to do just that in his rebuilding fury. Whale’s attitude was common, and though Simon knew nothing he did would change it or the rest of the world, Roger would not be a victim.
Whale backed away, both hands out in pleading as Simon carried Roger to the stairs. “I got permission and paid good money to know where he’d be. I got permission to bring along my own piece of ass.”
“Who?” Simon stopped to ask.
“Huh?”
“Who took coin to betray him?”
Whale hesitated to answer until Simon moved to stand Roger on his feet. “The whore,
Yvette.”
Cuddling Roger up close again and turning sideways he make his way up the narrow, steep stairs, pausing long enough to say, “If you ever go near him again, I’ll kill you.”
Whale may not have understood why, but the look on his face said he believed Simon meant every word. He stopped at the foot of the stairs, not following. His absence left one less to stare when Simon reached the deck. Not one member of his crew moved as he crossed and carried Roger down the gangplank
Twenty feet from the ship, Simon sat Roger on a crate and knelt beside him. “You’ve not said a word. Are you certain he caused you no injury?”
His voice barely above a whisper, Roger told him, “I’ll have an ugly knot on my head, but he only hit me the one time.”
Finger under Roger’s chin, Simon tipped his head to see his eyes better in the lamp light.
“You’re dazed. Wait here a few minutes.”
He pushed up and walked away, his pace increasi
ng when Roger whispered, “Thank you,”
and broke into sobs.
Roger darted into a doorway, cowering when he heard the sound of feet running at him,
wrenching at Simon’s heart to see the fear. Simon pulled him out, holding him by the shoulders to stand up straight.
“It’s only me. Why did you not wait?”
“There was no need. My head is clear.”
“Your head? That was not the reason. The reason was for me. You were to wait for me.”
With a sob, he said, “You need not burden yourself with my safety.”
He pushed Roger back to look into his face. “You are distressed. Let us go home.” He swung him into his arms again.
“I can walk.”
“I know, but I like the feel of you in my arms. I will not put you down until it is in my bed.
There is yet much for you to teach me, and I have yet to taste you, to take you in my mouth as you have me.”
True to his word, he did not release his hold of Roger until they reached his rooms. He placed Roger down gently, lowering to his knees beside the bed to undress him, searching also for bruising. He kissed the rings of chafing around his wrists from the ropes and the scrapes across his knuckles. As small as he was, Roger had fought against being taken. Fingerprint shaped bruises marked his forearms as well. Simon kissed each on Roger’s right arm, working his way up to the highest and then to Roger’s mouth to place a brief kiss before he sat back on his heels.
“You are very quiet. Are you in pain?”
“No.” Roger twisted to sit on the side of the bed, one leg to each side of Simon. His clever fingers went to work on the buttons of Simon’s jacket. Though Simon suspected he knew what he did, Roger may not have meant to present his cock and balls in such open invitation. With a deep breath, Simon leaned past Roger’s hands.
“If you must fortify yourself, do not do this,” Roger told him.