The Tutor (20 page)

Snug as two bugs in a rug
, as my mum used to say. The heat between our bodies built to an unbearable level. Barriers of constricting clothing needed to be shed.

For prolonged moments, we remained lost to the world around us. Nothing

existed but the union of our mouths, the press of two bodies together, my erection rubbing against his hardness. The mounting pleasure in my cock made me fear I’d spill in my smalls like an undisciplined youth. What an ignoble conclusion that would be. But young and uncontrolled was rather how I felt with Richard, as green and fresh as if I hadn’t had sex many times in my life.

Suddenly, his large hands weren’t gripping my waist but pushing me away. His

mouth broke from mine and he gasped, “No.”

I nearly whimpered. More self-denial and recrimination and why? I wanted to

slap some sense into the man. Or perhaps get him drunk enough to act as uninhibited as he’d been that night in the chapel.

I gazed into his eyes, so close I could see the difference between black pupils and deep-brown irises. He was flushed and breathing erratically.

“No. Not
here
.” Richard stepped back, took my hand, and pulled me off the

library table. “Over in the corner, we’ll be more hidden.”

Yes, indeed, sir. Take me where and how you like. I’m ready.

I happily followed him to the dimmest corner of the room, a sheltered nook

between a wall of books and a standing bookcase. We’d be out of sight if a servant entered the room, although it seemed no one ever cleaned here.

As I removed layers of Richard’s clothing and he tore away mine, I wondered if

Lavinia would chuck another book at my head. But if her spirit was present, she

apparently didn’t mind the things we did. Maybe she enjoyed watching, the little minx. I chuckled at the thought.

“What?” Richard murmured against my chest where he tongue-bathed my nipple.

“Nothing. Just some foolishness.” I stroked his hair and gave a hiss as he bit my

nipple. “Thinking how it would feel to lie naked on the library table with you fucking me.

Smithers would bring in a tea tray and pretend he saw nothing.”

“Don’t.” He nipped the other erect nub, and a flash of pleasure/pain shot through

me. “There’s no humor in getting caught.”

“Oh, sir, there’s humor in
everything
if one only looks for it.”

After that, I was finished talking. There were better things to do with my mouth

such as more kissing, licking the hard planes of Richard’s mostly nude body, and at last, dropping to my knees to suck him. The satisfying heft and girth of his cock filled my hand. I licked the length teasingly while looking up at him. No liquor-glazed eyes this time. He was fully present and staring down at me with a heat that might incinerate me.

Every long stroke of my tongue or nibble with my teeth and the hard suction

when I fully enveloped him made my own cock feel those things. I’d been on the

receiving end before, so I knew exactly how that pleasure felt to him. Each contented groan or grimace of pleasure Richard gave became mine. Thus my tension mounted along with his.

When he came, it happened abruptly. His body went rigid, and he leaned back

into the wall of books, gripping shelves on either side. A spasm of cock and a burst of semen in my throat, and his climax was over. I let go and climbed to my feet, took Richard’s hot muscular body in my arms, and held him. I inhaled warm flesh and snaked out my tongue to taste salt. My full erection nestled snugly against his belly, and I was completely content—or close enough to it.

Richard came back to himself with a shuddering breath. He slid a hand between

us to cup my length. “So very hard,” he marveled.

“For you. I’ve dreamed of this moment for days.”

He gave my balls a little squeeze. “You knew this was bound to happen again.”

“Of course I knew. I banked on it. ’Twas like holding back the tide…impossible.”

I smiled into the soft hollow between his collarbones and placed a kiss there.

“Let me return the favor, then.” He let go of me and began to lower himself.

There was nothing I craved more than the sight of Sir Richard Allinson kneeling at my feet, but just then I wanted him in my embrace even more. An odd and unexpected feeling.

“That’s all right.” I urged him to stand. “Hold me now and bring me off with your

hand. Then, after you’re ready again, we can do something new.”

For the next bit, I thought of nothing concerning spirits, hauntings, or death, and it was lovely. I turned around in the circle of his arms so we stood with my back to his front. I leaned my head against his shoulder and watched him grip my rigid cock and stroke it. The sight of his large fist surrounding me was a pleasure all on its own.

As he applied greater pressure and moved his fist more briskly, I writhed against

him. His breath bathed my cheek, and he sheltered my body with his. The sensation of his strength supporting me was bliss itself. I half closed my eyes and moaned. The final element to perfect the moment would be a full-length mirror standing in front of us.

I imagined how we’d appear together: a large man and slighter one, half-naked

and entwined together, Richard’s handsome face in profile as he bent his head to bite my shoulder, my mouth open in ecstasy, his hand moving capably now on my cock as if it were his own. At that moment, it
was
his.

I let my body melt into his, felt his erection returning, pressing against my rear. I sagged into him and trusted he’d keep me upright. The relentless beat of lust throbbing in my cock and balls grew faster and faster until it reached an unbearable pitch. If that feeling were audible, it would be a high-pitched whistle only dogs could hear. And then…

I cried out and erupted, jets of white shooting as if from a pistol to spatter the spines of several books on the shelf facing me. I shook and gulped air, and after I opened my eyes, stared at ejaculate dripping down a dark-green book cover. Joy, ecstasy, and hilarity erupted from my mouth as come had exploded from my cock. I laughed, and a lightness of being filled me. There was no room for any negative feelings. I was exactly where I wanted to be, and life couldn’t be more perfect.

Behind me, Richard gave a low rumble of laughter too. He kissed my neck, my

shoulder, sucked on my earlobe. “You looked so…”

“I felt so…” I replied. “And now, if you’re ready, I’d like to feel more.”

Where was a library table to be bent over when I needed one? I slipped out of

Richard’s arms and faced the wall of books. I gripped a shelf low enough that I had to bend over, arse thrusting invitingly upward. Richard needed no prompting to move behind me and guide his erection to my entrance. The tip of his probing cock made my body clench eagerly. I couldn’t wait to feel the familiar stretching sensation when he filled me.

But he paused with his hands on my hips. “Are you…quite ready? Like this with

no, er…preparation?”

“Wet your cock. Slick it well, and it will slide in.”

Naturally, it would be better with some oily substance, but one made do when

lubricants weren’t at hand.

I glanced over my shoulder. “Don’t be a namby-pamby gentleman. Work up some

spit. And don’t look so worried. You won’t get hurt.”

“I fear I’ll hurt
you
. It doesn’t seem possible to fit into…” Again he trailed off.

“You’d be surprised how the body accommodates.” I faced forward again, braced

my legs more, took a firmer grip on the shelf, and waited. Seconds later, a thick cockhead pushed past the outer ring of muscle.

“So tight,” Richard breathed. Still, he kept pushing.

I relaxed into the stretching, almost burning sensation. The pressure was intense at first, then less so as my body adjusted. Mild discomfort turned to exhilarating sensation as he filled my channel more deeply. Richard’s legs bumped against mine, his groin against my arse, his member buried to the hilt in me. We were joined as tightly as could be, for when I nudged my rear back toward him, he could enter no farther.

“Oh, good Christ,” he muttered and curved his body over mine, belly to my back,

his hands gripping several shelves above mine. Again I pictured how we looked, the perfect curve of our two bodies together as they became one.

Richard withdrew slowly. My body reluctantly released him, but not for long.

Another thrust, and he was part of me again. I stared at the floor, wooden boards warped with age and creaking with our every movement. Richard impaled me with a strong thrust, and I grunted at the impact. It hurt and felt amazing, and I needed more. His skin slid over mine, friction building between us as he began to pump faster.

My gaze shifted from the floor to the shelf in front of me, passing over a blue

book with a long title in French. I idly wondered what it said, and I immediately lost interest as Richard gave another powerful thrust.

He paused and pressed a kiss between my shoulder blades. “All right? I’m not

going too deep?”

“Fine,” I assured him. “Deep is good. There’s a place inside like a spot on a

treasure map. When you strike it, the feeling is intense. Truth be told, I don’t mind some roughness. Bang away.”

That rarely-heard-but-so-delicious chuckle flowed over me like melted butter.

And then Sir Richard began to fuck me with a focused intensity that stole my breath and set that old floor creaking until I thought we’d break through it. I clung hard to the shelf, fingers cramping. My body swayed against the onslaught. But, oh yes, that power was
exactly
what I craved. I gritted my teeth and rode the pain and exhilaration.

I wondered what this was like for Richard, his first time with a man. How did it

compare to lying with his wife? Proper ladies were taught to lie very still and pretend sex wasn’t happening. Was this sensation tighter, harder, more driven and passionate? Was sex with a man everything Richard had dreamed it would be when he’d imagined such things? Did he think of the groom he’d fallen in love with and wish I was that man?

He’ll never mistake me for some other bloke. I won’t let him
, I decided.

I tried to straighten, pushing back against Richard. After one or two more strokes, he pulled out. “I’m sorry. What have I done?”

I turned to him with a smile. “Nothing. But I wish to see you when you come.”

His handsome face was flushed, sweat shining on his brow. He blinked. “It can be

done facing each other? Even with a man?”

Oh, my sweet innocent. Give me time, and I’ll show you all sorts of positions you
never guessed at.
“Yes. It can be done face-to-face. Only a little maneuvering is required.”

I rested a foot on one of the shelves of the bookcase and beckoned Richard close.

Putting my hands on his shoulders, I tilted my pelvis forward, better presenting my rear.

Richard needed no encouragement to try this new angle and barely had to guide

his tip to me. His cock already knew the way to where it wanted to be. One long slow push, and he was back inside me. My cock, full-staff once more, brushed against his stomach as he moved. My grip on his shoulders held me steady, and his hands on my arse kept me firmly in place. I angled my body even more to give him full access, and I looked into his face, studying the myriad expressions that flitted across his features.

When I first met Richard, his eyes had seemed windows to a dark, doomed soul.

Now I saw light there, joy and hope and the possibility of happiness. I believed
I
had helped turn on that light, brought him out of gloom and back into the world, and I felt fairly smug about that.

I pressed my body as close as I was able as he thrust into me. Richard’s

expression shifted from grim determination through mounting pleasure to the dawning of bliss. His transformation was glorious, the moment of his climax a revelation. I held tight while he trembled in my arms, and when he’d finished, I continued to embrace him, reluctant to let go.

For several moments, we remained breathing in unison, hearts madly thumping

together. The floor creaked under our weight, and the clock on the fireplace mantel ticked, small, comforting sounds that made this place feel like an impenetrable bubble.

But, as unlikely as a servant breaching our bookish fortress was, we’d lingered,

nearly naked, for long enough. We pulled apart to hastily dress. I wondered if Richard would offer me another kiss before we went our separate ways.

As he straightened his tie and smoothed his waistcoat, he regarded me. “Thank

you for that. I didn’t mean to ever…”

“I know.”

“You’re rather irresistible.” A smile wafted across his lips, reddened from the

pressure of our kisses. “But I don’t want to take advantage of you, a man in my employ.”

I fastened my fly. “No advantage was taken. I believe what two people consent to

in private is no one’s business but their own.”

“I wish all of society held such an enlightened view. You are a revelation,

Graham Cowrie.” He reached out a hand and lightly touched my face, cupped my jaw,

and leaned in. The pressure of his lips was fleeting but set off an earthquake inside me.

That simple peck was sweeter than the passionate fury of all our earlier ones, and left me shaken.

“I must return to my work now,” Richard murmured.

“And I to the boys.”

But we remained a little longer, locked in a silent moment in which it seemed

volumes were spoken, although neither of us said a word.

My mum had another saying she was fond of bandying about on the rare

occasions when things went well for us. “It’s only a matter of time. This world isn’t made of sunshine, and a cloudy day is coming soon.”

Amazing I kept my generally positive attitude after living with such a pessimist.

Her words became a self-fulfilling prophecy as Mum herself brought sadness and ruin into our house in the form of Roger Dwyer.