by Anne Brooke
My tongue eased down farther, and I reached his right nipple. This was where the tail of the dragon finished, curling around the nipple as if it was holding it in place. I sucked him hard, though I didn’t bite him. Aaron gasped, and his hands came up tightly around me, stroking my hair, running his fingers through it.
He pulled me off and brought my lips down to his again, and I lay fully on top of him, thrusting our cocks, still hidden in our trousers, together. It felt like being a teenager again, doing it this way. Something buzzed in the back of my mind, a psychic interference, but I shoved it down. Right now, the last thing I wanted was an audience, whether dead or alive. Not with this gorgeous man willingly in my bed, just waiting to be unwrapped. It was like all my Christmases come at once, and some.
I needed to get our trousers off. More than this, I needed Aaron’s cock as far down my throat as I could get it before my brain—and anything else—exploded. Still, the moment I pushed myself away from him, I missed the feel of his chest against mine, and he moaned a protest.
It was the sexiest sound I’d ever heard in my life. I shuffled down the bed and undid his zipper, taking care not to catch him as I did so. His cotton briefs were smooth and white, and his cock strained against them. Without more hesitation, I released him and dropped the briefs, his trousers and socks on the floor. His cock sprang upward, rubbing eagerly against my hand. I knew what it wanted—what he wanted—but suddenly I wasn’t ready to give it to him. Not just yet.
No, right now, I wanted to admire him more before I tasted him. I stared at his length and ran one finger up his cock from the base to the tip. There I stroked the skin around his tip, where a silver droplet of pre-cum glittered, and eased my finger back down the other side, drawing the salty liquid with me. I put my finger in my mouth, sucking it clean, and he moaned again.
“Please,” he whispered, breaking the intense silence between us, and all the while his eyes telling me things his lips couldn’t express. “Please.”
I didn’t respond, not in words anyway. Instead, I licked a path over his cock, tracing the line my finger had taken. He thrust up and sideways, trying desperately to push himself inside my mouth, but I didn’t let it happen, not then. I wanted to gaze at how beautiful Aaron was, and I couldn’t do it with his cock in my mouth. He was long and slim, uncut, and for a while, I enjoyed playing with his foreskin with my fingers and lips, as I covered every part of his cock with kisses.
Finally, and so subtly I don’t think he realized what I was doing at first, I began to go down on him, inch by glorious inch. He let out a string of expletives, which wouldn’t have been out of place in a barracks. Funny what you found out when you scratched the surface of a guy. There was always a hell of a lot more underneath than you could ever imagine.
Not that I was doing any scratching. It wasn’t my style. Instead, my mouth was as smooth as velvet as I took him down. I wasn’t great at the whole relaxing the throat and going all the way thing, but I did my best, and he seemed to appreciate my efforts. At least, if I was judging by the noises he was making. Funny how good Aaron tasted and how much his cock felt at home in my mouth.
I wondered how his cum would taste, but, just as I was speeding up my attentions, he pushed me gently away, though with a groan speaking of regret.
“I’m happy for you to come in my mouth,” I whispered. “I like it.”
He chuckled, a sound that made my cock even harder. Time for me to get entirely naked and find out just how good Aaron could feel. I reached for the lube and condoms in my bedside cabinet, just as Aaron flipped us both over, so, without warning, he was on top, and I was underneath.
Heck, this way could be good, too. I had no objections.
“I love it in your mouth, but I’d prefer to come in your arse,” he whispered, easing the lube from my fingers and starting to fiddle with my belt. “Let’s take your clothes off, Jack. And turn ’round for me.”
Ah.
I laughed. “Hey, why don’t you turn ’round?”
He raised one eyebrow and gazed at me. “Good question. It’s not obligatory, but you seemed so keen to have my cock in your mouth, I thought you’d like it elsewhere, too.”
I wasn’t sure. It had been a while since I’d been the receiver in a relationship, but a bloke could always change his ways, couldn’t he? Maybe it was time to revisit old ground. While all this was going ’round in my head, Aaron was stroking my face and appeared to be waiting for an answer.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Persuade me.”
He smiled. “Okay. I’ll try, and if you don’t like it, you can do it to me. Sound good?”
I nodded. “Go ahead. Knock yourself out.”
“Thanks. So then, why don’t you take off the rest of your clothes, turn over and lie down on the bed, and let’s see what we can do.”
I obeyed. It felt surprisingly relaxing, even though my cock was still as stiff as ever and wedged uncomfortably against my stomach. Usually during sex, I was the one in control, so I wasn’t sure how to react when Aaron began to massage my shoulders. I certainly wasn’t expecting the delicious groan, which came out of my mouth and rumbled round the quiet room.
“Oh, sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to sound weird.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he said, with a chuckle. “Appreciation is always good.”
It wasn’t the only thing that was good either. Aaron’s fingers must have had magic in them because with each brush of his hands against my skin I could feel my muscles relax. I hadn’t even known how tense I’d been, and I groaned again. This time, I didn’t much care.
“God,” Aaron whispered. “You’re so beautiful.”
The next moment, his lips joined his fingers, and he began to massage and kiss a slow journey down my spine. He paid attention to every vertebra, licking and nibbling and touching my skin. By the time he reached my arse, I swear I would have fought an army of water-imps just for the pleasure of his tongue, though I couldn’t have guaranteed whether I’d have survived the experience.
Instead of getting the lube, as I’d anticipated, and prepping us both up, Aaron simply kept on going with the whole tongue assault, tracing a path down my arse and right into my hole.
“Bloody hell!” I yelped and rocketed up on the bed as if someone had thrown a bomb at me. “What the hell is that?”
Aaron collapsed into laughter, half on top of me, his hand hugging my hips. “It’s my tongue, Jack. Have you never watched Queer as Folk?”
“No,” I said. “I couldn’t understand the Manchester accents.”
“Snob,” he said, but he was still laughing. “Turn ’round. I promise you’ll like it. Have I ever let you down before?”
“No. But I’ve only known you two minutes, so it probably doesn’t count.” I kept on grumbling, but lay down as instructed and hoped Aaron would resume his attentions soon. His tongue had only been inside me for three seconds, at most, but I wanted it back. Thankfully, he didn’t keep me waiting for long.
He stretched my buttocks and blew softly into my hole. His action made me shiver, and I tried to stretch myself even farther apart, if it had been possible. So I kept as still as I could while Aaron’s tongue licked and kissed and entered my arsehole, and all the while, I moaned and gasped as pure bliss raced through my blood. What the hell had I been missing, and why on earth had I never done this before?
It didn’t take long for me to realize I couldn’t take any more of his tongue’s attentions before exploding. At the same time, I needed something else, something much larger, to fill me.
“Please,” I begged him. “Please, will you stop and just fuck me instead? Please, Aaron.”
I didn’t suppose he was really able to answer, what with his tongue being otherwise occupied with my body, but he obviously decided to take me at my word. As I groaned and regretted with my whole being the loss of his tongue, I heard the sounds of a condom packet being opened and the lube being undone.
I hoped he’d be quick, though, a
t the same time, my heart was beating fast and my muscles were tensing up again. It had been such a long time since I’d last been fucked. Did I really know what I was doing? Before I could argue myself into a refusal, Aaron’s lips nuzzled at my neck. His breath warmed my skin, reassuring me.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’ll take it nice and slow, nice and easy. There’ll be a bit of pain if you’ve not done it for a while, but not much, I promise you. If you kneel, it’ll be simpler for both of us.”
I did what he told me, though I couldn’t help the shake in my knees as I tried to hold steady.
His slicked up cocktip nudged at my entrance, and I gasped, tensing myself against him from instinct.
“Hey,” he said, and stroked the small of my back. “Just relax. I’ll make sure you enjoy it.”
He murmured other soothing words as I tried to steady my breathing and do what he asked of me. Finally, when I’d started to think it would never happen, Aaron gave a little push, and his cockhead entered my body. I groaned, partly with the discomfort and partly with the sensation of my arse being stretched and filled. My heartbeat hammered ever more loudly in my ears.
“That’s great,” Aaron whispered. “You’re doing really well. You feel amazing, so tight. I’ll give you a minute to get used to it and then I’ll push myself a bit farther inside. Okay?”
Panting hard, and the sweat dripping from my face, I nodded. “O-okay.”
This was all I could say as every fiber of my being was concentrating on handling Aaron’s intrusion, and I had no energy left over for speech. He kissed the back of my neck and massaged my hips for a few moments, then he pushed himself deeper into me.
I couldn’t help yelling. It felt as if he was stretching me so wide I’d never be the same again, and I swore as he caressed me and kept on whispering reassurances. I didn’t know if I wanted to believe him any more. The only thing that kept me from shoving him away was the thought his cock might be just as painful on the way out as it was proving on the way in.
Then Aaron moved a fraction more, and a deep flare of pleasure detonated inside me. It took over my whole body in seconds and kept on coming. As did I. My spunk pumped out over the duvet, and I heard myself yelling again, but this time in a good way.
A moment more and Aaron joined in the yelling. I collapsed like a burst balloon onto the bed, legs spread-eagled.
“Bloody hell,” I said, when I regained the ability to form whole words. “Bloody hell, it was never like this before.”
Aaron chuckled, his breathing warming my neck. “I think I might’ve found your sweet spot,” he said.
*
It wasn’t the first time he found it either, and we didn’t get round to eating until about one A.M. By which time we were famished. Thank goodness for microwaves.
All of which explained the exhaustion in my bones and the happy smile on my face by the time I arrived at the agency the next morning, about fifteen minutes later than usual.
Aunt Miranda greeted my arrival at the office with a frown and a wave at the kettle. I nodded agreement with both her responses and retreated to the safety of my desk, while I waited for coffee and confrontation. My aunt had the almost psychic ability to be able to tell when I’d been doing anything remotely naughty from a distance of half a county. Being in the same room only meant the insight became sharper.
Sure enough, the coffee arrived with a sniff, and Aunt Miranda tip-tapped her way to her own desk and switched the phone to voicemail.
It didn’t look good.
“Your expression isn’t one I’d associate with a good haunting solved,” she began. “I gather your site visit to Mr. Riley developed in ways not necessarily covered in the Paranormal Detectives’ manual.”
“Detection manual,” I muttered, but I was far too tired and happy to pursue the point with any enthusiasm. The manual was something Miranda had published on our website to reassure clients how much we adhered to a set of guidelines, and she was rightly very proud of it. I was convinced it was a vital document worthy of my one hundred percent support, though I hadn’t read it yet. Not something I’d ever admitted to my aunt.
“The guidelines don’t include rumpy-pumpy with a client,” she declared, fixing me with a hard stare, in case I wasn’t paying enough attention to her point of view. Perish the thought. “It’s not what you signed up for.”
I’d signed the document? I had no idea, but presumed Miranda knew what she was talking about. She always did. Cunning, though…she must have slipped it in with some other paperwork and blindsided me.
Still, I determined not to go down without a fight and took a swig of coffee to fuel my courage. She’d put sugar in it, which usually I would have spat out, but today I needed. After last night, my energy levels were low.
“Therefore, if they don’t include the issue, then the guidelines don’t actually say I can’t do the rumpy-pumpy thing,” I said, not sure why I was using my aunt’s nineteen-thirties style of language when speaking of sex, but I couldn’t think of my own terms right now. “So maybe they condone it. I’m a detective, not a doctor.”
“A paranormal detective,” Miranda countered. “It gives you responsibility for people’s souls, not just their bodies. You should take your God-given duties more seriously. In any case, it’s not right for normal detectives to sleep with their clients either, in spite of what all those TV crime dramas tell us. We’re dealing with real life here, young man, not fiction.”
“Absolutely,” I said, nodding as keenly as my aching head would allow. “I gave Aaron’s—Mr. Riley’s—case my full attention yesterday, managed to cover all angles, and gave a thorough going-over to all aspects of what we might face. I think if you’d been there—which, thank goodness, you weren’t—you might’ve been proud.”
By the time I’d finished, Aunt Miranda’s eyebrows were both raised to their full height. “Harrumph,” she said. “Did you actually talk about the case at all?”
I gave her what I hoped was my best devil-may-care smile, though it was probably more of an insane grimace. “We talked of nothing else. Let me fill you in on the details.”
My aunt groaned and put her face in her hands. “Just keep it clean. It’s all I ask.”
I kept it clean, but only after she’d promised no more herbal remedies in the office for at least a month and to be solely responsible for the washing-up for the next week. I would have gone for two weeks, but I didn’t want to be accused of being mean to the elderly. Naturally, I didn’t use those exact words to Aunt Miranda.
Instead, I gave her a whistle-stop tour through my impressions of Aaron’s house, including the kitchen attack and the sensation of lavender and lilac upstairs.
“I’m planning to go back, if Aaron agrees, next week. The moon won’t be full, so the camera equipment will work better. I’d like to see what happens when the ghosts don’t feel so crowded. Maybe part of the anger stems from the builders being there—it’s not easy having them in when you’re alive, let alone when you’re dead. I think I’ll take the salts and the silver, too.”
“You think there’re ghosts there who might be hiding? It’s rare.”
I nodded. “Yes, but whatever is in the kitchen is so strong, it’s enough to drive anyone away. It’s probably what’s upsetting the psychic balance of the house. I need to have everyone out in the open before we can see what we’re dealing with.”
When a psychic conference speaker had first explained how every house in the land, and maybe even the world—though our international links were few and far between—was full of ghosts, but the balance between them meant they rarely manifested themselves, I hadn’t believed it. Only later on did I realize the speaker had been right. Since then, I’d tried to pay attention whenever I was on call and at most other times, too. It was a good business instinct and helped in dealing with the living as well as the dead. A lot of things could be missed when you let your attention wander elsewhere. Good thing this hadn’t happened last night between Aaron a
nd me then. Though, to be honest, I couldn’t have thought of anything else if I’d tried; oh, definitely not…
“Stop smiling,” Miranda warned. “The look on your face will put the customers off, assuming we have any today.”
“Rubbish,” I replied. “Clients prefer to do business with happy people. It’s a known fact.”
“Not if they’re too happy, my dear. So when are you seeing your new young man again, in a personal rather than a business sense?”
I licked my lips, a fact which caused my aunt to groan again. “He’s not my young man. Things don’t work like they did in the old days any more. I said I’d drop in my report next week to save postage. We’ll see how we go from there.”
Miranda murmured something about the “casual-hearted youth of the modern age,” but I chose to ignore it. The rest of the day, I spent writing up my report and getting Miranda to give it a thorough inspection with her proofreading skills. If there was ever an Olympic sport in proofreading, my money was definitely on my aunt. She could spot a split infinitive and a misused gerundive—definitely a term worth looking up, should I ever get the chance—a mile away. I also spent a lot of the day jumping every time the phone rang, but it was never Aaron.
So it came as something of a surprise when the door opened at just before five P.M. and the man himself stood on the threshold. Just as he had the first time he’d visited us, but this time the water-imp wasn’t there. In its place on Aaron’s shoulder hovered something far more potentially deadly. An earth-sprite. Red and snarling, and spitting venom straight in my direction.
Aunt Miranda leapt up. She couldn’t see the sprite, but she could certainly feel its anger. “Over here!” she yelled, just as I grabbed the industrial demister from my desk and took a running jump toward the door.
“What the hell?” Aaron said as I shoved him to one side, whilst spraying a jet of water at the sprite.
The creature had swollen to double the width in the few seconds it had taken me to react. The water only caught him on the side, rather than full in the face where it would have been most effective, and the sprite kept on coming. The next moment, its sheer size had knocked me onto the floor, and I was forced to grapple with an insubstantial spitting fury, invisible to everyone else in the room. It probably wasn’t a great look.