He was enjoying the feeling of powerlessness in the face of great pleasure. I found his neck again and then his mouth and then his neck again.
And I whispered into his ear in between puffy breaths of air, "I want to taste you.
Everywhere." He moaned his acquiescence to my proposal.
As I kissed him more, my hands found his belt and made short work of it. I leisurely slid his pants down over his thighs. And similar to his shirt cuffs at his wrists, I left them as mana-cles around his ankles. I wanted to control, I 414
Anthony Bidulka
wanted to direct, I wanted to give and take at my command, without interference. And he was a willing accomplice. He wore white, ribbed Jockey briefs that stretched attractively over their contents. At first I only observed and smiled in anticipation. He whispered something unintelligible and I gazed at him. As our eyes communed my hands and mouth met their marks. 1 was pleased by the transformation of his face and felt the trembling of his knees.
He looked at me, mesmerized, as I stepped back. I began to peel off my clothes. It was time for this to become a two-man game. I enjoyed undressing in front of him, revealing what would soon become his toy, like a self-unwrapping present.
"Russell," he whispered.
I looked at the man. I couldn't recall his name. I'd just met him—after leaving the rectory in the full heat of my fever. But in my mind I imagined someone with a name I knew well and I fell upon him.
It was time for
Amuse Bouche.
415