exerting a light pressure over the cheek to affirm his hold over the boy. “Have you ever been with a man ever before? In school?”
“No, it was not my game,” Guntram answered shortly before Constantin plundered his mouth with a long kiss, sucking the air out of him. Without fully realising it, so absorbed he was in the kiss, Guntram felt himself being repositioned against the cushions over the large sofa, a strong arm taking him by the waist as Constantin settled his weight against his chest.
Guntram felt the kiss odd but utterly erotic, nothing that could compare to the smooches he had once exchanged with a blonde girl on a party when he was fifteen years old. In his mind, it had been pleasant but nothing out of the ordinary, perhaps because he was not in love with her and they both were very nervous, well, he was. The expert kisses he was receiving from Constantin were different, he thought. First, Constantin was advancing as he would swallow him in one go but then, he was stopping and encouraging Guntram to repeat his actions with a brief lick of his tongue over the boy's lips. This play of cat and mouse was maddening for him at the same time that he felt more bold and comfortable with what he was doing. Relaxing more than before, Guntram put his arms around the man's neck and pulled him against his chest while his tongue devoured and tasted the faint traces of champagne on Constantin's mouth.
The Russian's free hand expertly unbuttoned the first buttons of Guntram's plaid cotton shirt, briefly marvelling at how cold and smooth the skin was, like alabaster, no better like ivory, lightly playing with his left nipple, enjoying the initial surprised gasp and then his soft moans at the caresses. Constantin finished to open the shirt revealing the white torso reminding him of a teenager's Apollo sculpture by Praxiteles he had seen so long ago in the Louvre; classic long limbs despite the boy was short, well proportioned chest, nothing overdeveloped in a cheap, made to the excess, no, his angel had truly a classical beauty, trapped in that moment when he was not a child any longer but not yet a fully grown man. Although his desire urged him to take the boy, he knew that he needed some self control if he wanted to keep him forever as it was his wish.
“Guntram, we must stop right now,” he made the supreme effort to disentangle from his angel, regretting his words the minute they were out of his mouth and feeling the bulge on the boy's trousers pressing against his.
“You're half drunk. If we do it now, you'll regret it in the morning.”
“I do want it.”
“Guntram, you won't remember a thing tomorrow. Stop now and we will reconsider it later. Come, I'll take you to bed.”
“Let me sleep with you,” Guntram pleaded nearly clutching the Russian's jacket lapels.
“Do you think that's a good idea? I'm not made of stone and someone like you in my bed…”
“Please, I don't want to be alone,” Guntram wailed not truly understanding why his mood had changed so much in a few minutes; from being completely high and optimistic to feel utterly dirty and miserable.
“All right, but don't come to me crying in the morning if you don't like it.”
“I like it very much,” he smiled shamelessly.
'Two glasses of champagne is his limit. Three is too much.' Constantin evaluated as he stood up from the couch offering his hand to Guntram, who stood up, faltering a bit, his opened shirt completely forgotten when under normal circumstances he would have been terribly shy about his body.
Constantin surrounded his angel's waist with one arm as he led him toward his own bedroom, quickly typing the entrance code. Guntram was not very coherent when he took a look around the big room, sparsely and modern decorated, with several blurry paintings on the walls.
“Do you think you can go in the bathroom by yourself?”
“I'm not a baby any more! Of course I can go!” Guntram was deeply offended at the suggestion and went
“No, it was not my game,” Guntram answered shortly before Constantin plundered his mouth with a long kiss, sucking the air out of him. Without fully realising it, so absorbed he was in the kiss, Guntram felt himself being repositioned against the cushions over the large sofa, a strong arm taking him by the waist as Constantin settled his weight against his chest.
Guntram felt the kiss odd but utterly erotic, nothing that could compare to the smooches he had once exchanged with a blonde girl on a party when he was fifteen years old. In his mind, it had been pleasant but nothing out of the ordinary, perhaps because he was not in love with her and they both were very nervous, well, he was. The expert kisses he was receiving from Constantin were different, he thought. First, Constantin was advancing as he would swallow him in one go but then, he was stopping and encouraging Guntram to repeat his actions with a brief lick of his tongue over the boy's lips. This play of cat and mouse was maddening for him at the same time that he felt more bold and comfortable with what he was doing. Relaxing more than before, Guntram put his arms around the man's neck and pulled him against his chest while his tongue devoured and tasted the faint traces of champagne on Constantin's mouth.
The Russian's free hand expertly unbuttoned the first buttons of Guntram's plaid cotton shirt, briefly marvelling at how cold and smooth the skin was, like alabaster, no better like ivory, lightly playing with his left nipple, enjoying the initial surprised gasp and then his soft moans at the caresses. Constantin finished to open the shirt revealing the white torso reminding him of a teenager's Apollo sculpture by Praxiteles he had seen so long ago in the Louvre; classic long limbs despite the boy was short, well proportioned chest, nothing overdeveloped in a cheap, made to the excess, no, his angel had truly a classical beauty, trapped in that moment when he was not a child any longer but not yet a fully grown man. Although his desire urged him to take the boy, he knew that he needed some self control if he wanted to keep him forever as it was his wish.
“Guntram, we must stop right now,” he made the supreme effort to disentangle from his angel, regretting his words the minute they were out of his mouth and feeling the bulge on the boy's trousers pressing against his.
“You're half drunk. If we do it now, you'll regret it in the morning.”
“I do want it.”
“Guntram, you won't remember a thing tomorrow. Stop now and we will reconsider it later. Come, I'll take you to bed.”
“Let me sleep with you,” Guntram pleaded nearly clutching the Russian's jacket lapels.
“Do you think that's a good idea? I'm not made of stone and someone like you in my bed…”
“Please, I don't want to be alone,” Guntram wailed not truly understanding why his mood had changed so much in a few minutes; from being completely high and optimistic to feel utterly dirty and miserable.
“All right, but don't come to me crying in the morning if you don't like it.”
“I like it very much,” he smiled shamelessly.
'Two glasses of champagne is his limit. Three is too much.' Constantin evaluated as he stood up from the couch offering his hand to Guntram, who stood up, faltering a bit, his opened shirt completely forgotten when under normal circumstances he would have been terribly shy about his body.
Constantin surrounded his angel's waist with one arm as he led him toward his own bedroom, quickly typing the entrance code. Guntram was not very coherent when he took a look around the big room, sparsely and modern decorated, with several blurry paintings on the walls.
“Do you think you can go in the bathroom by yourself?”
“I'm not a baby any more! Of course I can go!” Guntram was deeply offended at the suggestion and went
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