Mistress Agnes

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  got that blow the past has power over you again. You need to talk, and tell her what you want from her. She'll stay with you all day if you want her to, she'll cancel all her appointments for you, you know that. Don't tell her it's fine to go then be angry to be left behind. Be honest. Tell her it's difficult for you to be left by yourself.'

  'It was her touching me instead of talking to me that made me lash out. She always did that, leave me all day, then come to me and make love. But she never told me anything, not what she did, not what her life had been like. I hated that, hated it so badly!'

  'Tell her. You're just human, and you have been seriously injured, you have a right to show weakness, you don't have to keep a promise you once made if it is no longer possible, especially not at the expense of your relationship.

  Oh Dennis, why can't life ever be easy for you? It seems you need to suffer all the time. Though you were my hero fighting like that, I admired you so much, you saved us all. I'm glad you're feeling better physically, and if you talk to the mistress you'll feel better altogether. She loves you as much as you love her, all will be well. Shall I fetch her?'

  Dennis nodded, a bit ashamed of his tantrum by now.

  She came alone, studying the floor as she entered the room, and Dennis could have kicked himself. But he didn't, he got out of bed and embraced her. He would have lifted her but the doctor had forbidden physical strain. With his hands on her cheeks he lifted up her face to meet her eyes. They were red, and wet, she had been crying.

  'I'm sorry, my angel, I shouldn't have snapped at you like that, then turned my back on you. It was selfish and cruel. Will you forgive me?'

  Of course she'd forgive him but he needed to ask, she didn't answer but that was because she was crying too intensely to be able to speak. He held her until he started to feel dizzy, then he led her to the bed where he sat down, head in his hands, until the dizziness receded.

  His condition had taken her self-pity away instantly, and her voice was strong and concerned.

  'Patrick said you felt abandoned, and it brought back memories of being left alone in the dark all day. He said your concussion had brought it back, said you could no longer keep your promise to not reproach me with it, you needed to talk about it and so did I. He's turning into quite a psychologist, don't you think?'

  She sat down and took his hand.

  'Dennis, I've been nursing my guilt over what I did to you, and it's grown out of proportion. I need no psychologist to tell me that. If I had your tendency towards nightmares, I'd be up all night by now. I want to talk about it, and I know things will come out that will hurt me. I deserve that hurt, I want it, so we can both move on. Will you talk to me?'

  She sat herself on the bed with her back to the wall, and took him in her arms very gently, she felt such intense love for him, and such relief he didn't hate her.

  'Patrick was right. I know I told you to keep your appointments, I slept a lot and enjoyed your love when you returned. I never asked what you had done that day, I was still very tired and confused with all my memories mixed up and forcing themselves upon me. But today I suddenly felt a lot better and I got lonely for you, but you weren't there. And I didn't want to tell you about it for fear of stirring your guilt even more, even only half awake I could see what my ravings and pleadings from the past were doing to you. I had promised not to use them against you, and I saw asking you to stay with me because I felt lonely as making reproofs, because my loneliness was so inextricably linked to being all by myself in the attic, waiting for you to give me some attention, some love. I became angry at you for leaving me alone again, stuck to the bed, with weakness this time, I wasn't thinking right, I should just have told you how I felt.'

  'What was it like, Dennis, stuck to the bed, waiting for me?'

  He couldn't believe she asked him that, he was certain talking about that would hurt her more than him, even with his memories raked up the last few days.

  'Tell me, Dennis, and don't spare me. Your memories are fresh now, I'm sure you remember exactly.'

  'I was lonely, Agnes. The war had damaged me, and I needed love, though I had never had it before it was the only thing that could take my pain away.

  Then when I nearly choked on my collar after assaulting you in front of the hearth, you gave me love, I was awake and relishing it the whole time, but I pretended to not notice to not make you hate me for witnessing your weakness. I wanted that love, I needed more of it, so I let Patrick tell me how to please you, and I did just that to be allowed to stay.

  And my heart became yours, though I didn't know anything about you except that you would give me love every so often. Left by myself in the dark all day and night, my throat hurting and my body wasting away, my memories got an

  ever larger hold on me, there were no present and no future for me so I lived in the past, and suffered for it, horrors and nightmares plaguing me, and they made me even more lonely and needy. Only your love could make me feel better for a short time. Until I needed you so much it made me sick, and I had to become active again and fill that void or just die of fear and loneliness.

  Then when you released me I still felt the loneliness, but I could at least live and I had a future. And when you asked me to stay and let me be with you all the time, I finally got the love I needed so desperately, and the past didn't matter as much anymore. Somehow I felt that loneliness today, but I didn't dare tell you for I had promised not to hold the past against you. Then when you didn't talk to me but touched me with heat, I snapped.'

  'I'm still so very sorry that I thought only of myself and never once of you. Of what you had been through, of what I was putting you through. Will you keep talking about this, a little bit of it every day? Ignoring it and trying to forget hasn't worked, I've been feeling guilty all this time, though our happiness together often helped me forget how cruel I had been.

  What do you want me to do now, stay with you all day? Tell you what I've been up to last week? And how will I know when it's all right to make love?'

  Though Dennis didn't like to hear her humble like this, he understood why his beloved sounded so beat, she had seen him in a terrible state, and without outlet for her feelings she had gone to work as if nothing had happened. After five days of facing a tough work schedule she had returned in the hope to find a little love, and received a brusque rejection. But he would give her what she asked for, and tell her what he wanted, though she would object to it.

  'I don't want you to stay put with me, Agnes, I want to come with you. I'll just sit still and be pretty, and when I get tired Patrick can take me to a private room where I can lie down. I want to experience town, not lie in a bed. I've been hurt worse than this and I survived each time. And I do want to know what you did without me all week, I'm so sorry I couldn't be there with you.

  But most of all I think you need to realize that I may be unable to make love for weeks. Won't you take your release from someone else? I'm sure Guy will be very glad to offer his services. I really don't mind, I can see your ardour growing and it's hard to not be able to do anything about it.'

  She looked him straight in the eye, and said, 'Yes, Dennis, I will. I thought I could do without lovemaking for weeks, but I cannot. I'm restless and want to touch you all the time, I'll be rubbing myself against your thigh next, and

  you'll feel bad for not being able to give me what I need. I'll ask Guy, if Patrick doesn't mind staying with you.

  And I cannot stop you from coming along, I still think you should listen to the doctor, but you're right, you know your own strength best, you've been through things I cannot even imagine, being shot and stabbed, on the run for a week without food, I guess you know your own limits.

  Chapter 12

  They cuddled for a whole hour, in which Agnes told him everything she had done that week, meetings, private conversations, her readers had been very enthusiastic and were eagerly awaiting her new novel. Talking was so good, Dennis felt so much better that he couldn't help touching Agne
s in various exciting places, until she begged him to stop.

  'I'm going to jump you any moment now, I'm fast losing my self-control.'

  And before she could do anything to stop him, Dennis had rung the bell over his head, and Patrick entered, so quickly he had to have been waiting by the door.

  'Patrick,' he asked, 'will you take the mistress back to Guy's bed and give her some of your magic together? She's so heated I cannot even touch her breasts or her inner thighs, she needs release.'

  Patrick didn't even look askance, he knew Agnes better than anyone except Dennis.

  'I won't leave you all by yourself, Dennis,' Patrick objected, 'you'll feel lonely. Can't Guy please you by himself, mistress, so I can stay with Dennis?'

  Agnes was rather embarrassed, they were talking about her as if she was sick or something, but the very memory of Guy touching her with heat made her pussy burn.

  'I think that is a very good idea, Patrick, if you don't mind. I don't want to steal your partner away from you.'

  Now Patrick dared to say cheekily, 'Oh but mistress, I'm merely dying to steal your partner away from you for an hour. I promise I'll take excellent care of Dennis while you're busy. Let me go tell Guy.'

  And he was off before either of them could protest. When he came back he was grinning from ear to ear with anticipation.

  'Guy is waiting for you, mistress, he has missed being intimate with you, he may surprise you. Your beloved will be in excellent hands while you are gone.'

  And after a loving kiss, Agnes undressed, put on her dressing gown, kissed

  Dennis once more, then left the room.

  Suddenly the atmosphere changed.

  Patrick became quiet, positively shy, and he almost retreated to the lazy chair they had used to watch over Dennis.

  'Come sit with me, Patrick, don't be a stranger all of a sudden. You have been my best friend for so long, you saved my life and my sanity as much as Agnes did. Do you want to cuddle a little?'

  'Yes, Dennis,' was the answer, 'there is nothing I'd like more.'

  'Get out of that livery then, and join me.'

  Still very shy, Patrick took off his coat and put it away on the chair. He was wearing a plain shirt underneath, and tight trousers, and when he took off the shirt Dennis couldn't help releasing a sigh of envy at the sight of his naked chest. His figure was astonishing, he was like a statue of a god, a boyish, slim god, but perfectly proportioned and muscled nonetheless.

  'Oh my, Patrick, you're even handsomer than I expected. Let's see the rest.'

  Unable to help him, Dennis looked his fill of that fabulous body, and Patrick was bashful but also pleased to get such praise from a man he secretly considered his master. He knew better than to let him know, but he loved Dennis as much as Guy loved the mistress, and he wanted nothing more than to touch him and stroke him and yes, let him feel all the experience his years of loving a man had gained him. The only problem was, he had no clue how far he could go with his master, which made him shy, but no less determined to one day find the exact limit of Dennis' ability to love a man.

  Of course Patrick's body betrayed his feelings, but Dennis didn't raise a hair at the sight of his friend's dick standing proudly, and invited him into his arms. He knew Patrick's personal scent intimately, they had been close so often, Patrick had comforted, cleaned and groomed Dennis when he was physically weak, and he still shaved Dennis every other day, then rubbed the fragrant ointment into his friend's freshly shaven skin, putting all his tender feelings towards him in his loving ministrations.

  Dennis wasn't thick, he had been in Patrick's arms often enough to know his friend loved and admired him, a feeling that was largely mutual. The number of times Patrick had held him and soothed him, when life or his past dragged him down towards despair, Dennis had lost count of them a long time ago.

  The kisses they had shared, warm, soft, and still different from kissing Agnes, more exciting. Dennis had never felt the inclination to make love to a

  man, and he still didn't, but right now he couldn't do anything active anyway, and the idea of holding his dear friend as Patrick had held Dennis so often was very appealing.

  The familiar figure with his manly scent and his very manly erection crawled beside him under the blankets readily, and as Dennis felt the warm, muscular shape against his bare skin his own dick rose instantly. Patrick snuggled under Dennis' arm and laid his head on his chest, nuzzling and smelling his naked torso. Dennis stroked him, a magnificent feeling, such a prime specimen, Patrick's skin almost as soft as Agnes', but a solid layer of muscle under that. His touch caused Patrick to shudder, and his friend's adoring gaze made Dennis feel slightly uncomfortable. Somehow Dennis found it in him not to protest the adulation but to just accept it, to give Patrick what he ached for, a chance to show his adored friend his undying love and faithfulness. As Dennis stroked his head and his face, Patrick showed his emotions clearly, and heat did make up a sizeable part of them by now.

  Dennis' hands could stroke Patrick without his body suffering from the concussion, and he did so with a relish. The short hair, the handsome face, the vulnerable throat. Patrick closed his eyes and let himself be spoiled like a pet. But Dennis felt reluctant to touch a man's privates, and he kept his hands well-clear of anything below the waist, almost afraid of what might happen if he excited his friend too much. Patrick must have seen through him instantly.

  'I can control myself at all times, Dennis, you don't have to touch me down there, but if you want to there is no danger. May I please touch you?'

  No word about control here, did Patrick hope Dennis would lose it and ravage him?

  'Of course, Patrick,' he replied matter-of-factly, 'you've touched me often enough, even my most intimate parts.'

  'That was different, Dennis, and even if you don't acknowledge it, your body does.'

  That needed no explanation, Dennis had never before sported an erection as a result of Patrick's gentle touch, let alone that the very presence of him, for Patrick hadn't even purposely touched him yet, caused his dick to stand firm.

  As a kind of reply, Dennis stroked the inner thigh, and cupped Patrick's testicles very gently, quite a nice feeling for himself, though he couldn't judge what that shudder was for, bliss, or fear of being hurt.

  To be on the safe side Dennis went for the erection, it felt good, different than his own, but that was so familiar to his hand, and he'd feel his own touch on

  himself. Now he merely felt another shudder, and a slight sound of excitement escaped Patrick, a tiny groan.

  'Oh master, that feels so good, may I please touch yours?'

  That startled Dennis not a little, releasing Patrick's dick in an instant, almost ready to protest his deferential attitude and use of an honorific. But this was Patrick's moment, and Dennis was not going to nitpick over a little detail.

  Patrick would call Dennis what he wanted in his mind, and apparently that was master. Dammit, but what could he do? He took Patrick's dick back in his hand, a lot firmer this time, as if it were his own, and Patrick looked at him in pleased ecstasy.

  'You may, Patrick. But can't we just be friends? You know where I come from.'

  'I'm sorry, Dennis, I'll try even harder to be familiar with you. Please don't talk brogue to me, I'll be good from now on.'

  'You're just evil, Patrick! If I didn't have a concussion, I'd have to spank you.'

  And then it was his turn to gasp and moan, for apparently Dennis' attempt at humour had emboldened Patrick enough to take a firm hold of his dick in return. That was not a lady's touch, this was someone who knew what it felt like to have a dick himself.

  After that, Patrick was unleashed, he stroked every single inch of Dennis'

  body, his hair, his face, his throat, showing some emotion there as he kissed the spot where the bruise had been for months, his chest, broader and as firm as his own, though not as beautifully sculpted. Dennis relished Patrick's expert and gentle touch, and he also found it in himself to relish the
look of his friend finally doing what he had wished to for so long.

  Suddenly his lust rose a thousandfold, Patrick had taken his dick in his mouth and that, too, felt different. Less gentle, and just incredibly hot and tantalizing, Dennis couldn't think anymore, he was reduced to gibbering in ecstasy, totally overcome by the incredible expertise of hand and tongue on his member. How did Patrick do that, where did he find those places that felt so good?

  Dennis had not suffered from lack of release during his invalidity so far, Agnes had spent a lot of time on him, and all her own ardour, so he had quite a lot of stamina left. And Patrick had his own way of prolonging this trip to heaven, each time Dennis couldn't stand the excitement anymore and felt his climax approaching, Patrick seemed to know instinctively and transferred his attention to Dennis' testicles, and butt cheeks, and other sensitive places that

  allowed his ardour to cool down just enough to be able to continue.

  Dennis had no idea how long it lasted, it could have been minutes, it might have been hours. By the time Patrick allowed him to finally climax, Dennis'

  head was spinning, not with nausea or concussion, but with bliss. His entire body seemed to empty itself, Dennis noted that Patrick didn't object to the taste of his semen at all, he relished it, but he did keep an eye on Dennis at all times to see whether he was still enjoying it.

  When he finally looked up and caught Dennis' eye, he said proudly, 'And that, dear Dennis, was the light version, because you are still suffering from concussion.'

  With that, he lay back down in Dennis' arms, and Dennis just couldn't help it, he had to kiss him ardently. At which point he had to agree with Agnes, if that was the taste of his semen on Patrick's tongue, so hot and salty and very unpleasant, he could do without.

  Patrick laughed out loud, and kissed him again, but less intimately.

  'I admit it's an acquired taste. I'll rinse my mouth, I want to kiss you again.'