you?” Henry bit Martin's ear. “You know how dirty I am.”
“But you are a real gentleman, Henry. You’re kind. Most so-called gentlemen don't spare a thought for their slaves.”
This was probably true. As far as Henry could tell, none of his friends paid much mind to what their slaves wanted or thought—and that was a perfectly correct way to behave with slaves, he wasn't saying otherwise—but it certainly wasn't his way, at least not when it came to Martin.
Martin kissed his way down Henry's body and took Henry's cock into his mouth. Henry moaned and lifted his hips up off the bed. “Turn around,” he said, “so I can suck you, too.”
He nuzzled Martin’s balls and put a finger in his mouth, wetting it, and then rubbed the pad over Martin's asshole as he took Martin’s cock deep in his mouth.
Martin groaned as Henry pushed the finger inside and then pulled off of Henry's cock. “Please, can’t I do it to you, Sir?” Martin was sure Henry would like it; Henry was not convinced at all.
Henry shook his head, then let Martin's cock slide out of his mouth and said, “No.”
“If it's not dirty for you to do it to me, Henry, then it shouldn't be dirty for me to do it to you.”
“Don't argue with me, or I’ll stop doing it entirely.” Nothing about Martin's body seemed unclean to Henry, but his own was more suspect. He'd put his hands and mouth on every part of Martin's body but had disallowed Martin any contact with his asshole, or even the crack of his ass. As he'd anticipated, Martin didn't want him to stop what he was doing and so gave up his arguments without any more fuss.
Martin finished with Henry’s fingers deep in his hole, shuddering and shouting around Henry's cock. As soon as he'd come, he climbed on top of Henry and rode him until he came, too.
Afterward, Martin lay close at Henry's side and put his head on his chest. “Sir,” he said, “Henry. You’re so good to me. So much better than the masters of any of my friends. They have no idea how much you do for me.”
“Well, let's keep it that way.” Henry kissed Martin's forehead. “We can go on like this forever,” he said, “so long as no one knows. So long as we don't get caught.”
Martin turned to kiss his chest. “I'll just get us cleaned up, Sir.” He went to the bathroom and got a basin and cloth. While he sat on the edge of the bed washing Henry's prick, Henry brought up the topic introduced at Louis' house.
“So tell me, Martin, what was the nature of this trouble that you had, but don't have any more?”
“Oh, well, Sir…I feel foolish talking about it now.” He set his basin aside and shifted so that his legs stretched alongside Henry's.
“I want to hear it, Martin, I really do.”
“Well, I may have mentioned it in passing a time or two, Sir, but I was very worried that you didn't seem to want me. My whole life, I was told that the main thing my young master would be interested in was my body, fucking me, and you didn't want that—”
“I did!” Henry insisted.
“You didn't seem to want that, Henry, and I just kept wondering what I'd done wrong. I thought you had to have wanted me, or you wouldn't have bid so high, but once I was yours, you didn't use me, and you didn't let me touch you after that first night. I kept wondering what had happened between the bidding and the transfer of ownership, Sir; if you'd seen someone else, some other slave that appealed more, and you regretted taking me. I thought perhaps you were disgusted by the idea of relations with another boy.”
Henry hadn't realized how much his inner conflict had affected Martin. “That wasn't it at all. I wanted you too much, Martin. I was afraid of what would happen if I let myself have you.”
Martin seemed genuinely confused. “What did you think would happen, Sir?”
Henry snorted. “Exactly what has happened. That I'd do forbidden things and never want to stop doing them. That I'd be crazy about you. I'm a failure as a
“But you are a real gentleman, Henry. You’re kind. Most so-called gentlemen don't spare a thought for their slaves.”
This was probably true. As far as Henry could tell, none of his friends paid much mind to what their slaves wanted or thought—and that was a perfectly correct way to behave with slaves, he wasn't saying otherwise—but it certainly wasn't his way, at least not when it came to Martin.
Martin kissed his way down Henry's body and took Henry's cock into his mouth. Henry moaned and lifted his hips up off the bed. “Turn around,” he said, “so I can suck you, too.”
He nuzzled Martin’s balls and put a finger in his mouth, wetting it, and then rubbed the pad over Martin's asshole as he took Martin’s cock deep in his mouth.
Martin groaned as Henry pushed the finger inside and then pulled off of Henry's cock. “Please, can’t I do it to you, Sir?” Martin was sure Henry would like it; Henry was not convinced at all.
Henry shook his head, then let Martin's cock slide out of his mouth and said, “No.”
“If it's not dirty for you to do it to me, Henry, then it shouldn't be dirty for me to do it to you.”
“Don't argue with me, or I’ll stop doing it entirely.” Nothing about Martin's body seemed unclean to Henry, but his own was more suspect. He'd put his hands and mouth on every part of Martin's body but had disallowed Martin any contact with his asshole, or even the crack of his ass. As he'd anticipated, Martin didn't want him to stop what he was doing and so gave up his arguments without any more fuss.
Martin finished with Henry’s fingers deep in his hole, shuddering and shouting around Henry's cock. As soon as he'd come, he climbed on top of Henry and rode him until he came, too.
Afterward, Martin lay close at Henry's side and put his head on his chest. “Sir,” he said, “Henry. You’re so good to me. So much better than the masters of any of my friends. They have no idea how much you do for me.”
“Well, let's keep it that way.” Henry kissed Martin's forehead. “We can go on like this forever,” he said, “so long as no one knows. So long as we don't get caught.”
Martin turned to kiss his chest. “I'll just get us cleaned up, Sir.” He went to the bathroom and got a basin and cloth. While he sat on the edge of the bed washing Henry's prick, Henry brought up the topic introduced at Louis' house.
“So tell me, Martin, what was the nature of this trouble that you had, but don't have any more?”
“Oh, well, Sir…I feel foolish talking about it now.” He set his basin aside and shifted so that his legs stretched alongside Henry's.
“I want to hear it, Martin, I really do.”
“Well, I may have mentioned it in passing a time or two, Sir, but I was very worried that you didn't seem to want me. My whole life, I was told that the main thing my young master would be interested in was my body, fucking me, and you didn't want that—”
“I did!” Henry insisted.
“You didn't seem to want that, Henry, and I just kept wondering what I'd done wrong. I thought you had to have wanted me, or you wouldn't have bid so high, but once I was yours, you didn't use me, and you didn't let me touch you after that first night. I kept wondering what had happened between the bidding and the transfer of ownership, Sir; if you'd seen someone else, some other slave that appealed more, and you regretted taking me. I thought perhaps you were disgusted by the idea of relations with another boy.”
Henry hadn't realized how much his inner conflict had affected Martin. “That wasn't it at all. I wanted you too much, Martin. I was afraid of what would happen if I let myself have you.”
Martin seemed genuinely confused. “What did you think would happen, Sir?”
Henry snorted. “Exactly what has happened. That I'd do forbidden things and never want to stop doing them. That I'd be crazy about you. I'm a failure as a
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