Tessie L - Sexy Briefs - Knickers in a Twist

His breath caught, time slowing to a crawl as a gossamer hand wrapped around his burgeoning erection. Two rough strokes, hot silk and electricity spiraling up his spine and tearing loose a rough groan. “Oh gods, yes.”

A needy moan escaped his throat when a hard cock pressed urgently against his, and that maddening hand returned to wrap around them both. A hot mouth latched onto his nipple as his lover began to stroke, hand squeezing slightly as they thrust together. Their mouths mated, swallowing twin gasps as a thumb swiped through pearly drops of precum. A slick finger pushed through his tight pucker and all coherent thought dissolved into a ragged prayer to a deity Arthur had been certain he didn’t believe in.

The slow slide of his lover’s cock seemed to go on forever, impossibly deep, and he wondered if, perhaps, the shadowy figure would disappear inside him completely. After what seemed an eternity it reversed, taunting him with an achingly slow rhythm. No matter how he squirmed and begged, the measured pace never faltered. Each brush to his prostate tightened the hot coil inside of him, and he felt his balls drawing up tighter and tighter, like a spring ready for flight.

A ghostly hand wrapped loosely around his erection, the light teasing strokes matching the pace of the tongue ruthlessly mapping his mouth. Even now, Arthur spared a moment for his obsession, deciding that forgetting to breathe due to pleasure might, indeed, be the best way to die.

A hard thrust to his prostate pushed him over the edge, molten lightning surging up from his balls as the world greyed out around him. When his eyes fluttered open they met with the heart-stopping sight of his lover daintily licking the seed from his chest.

“Arthur, it’s time to go.” His brother’s strident call broke through the spell he was under.

“Five more minutes. I’ll meet you at the car.” Another whirlwind of kisses and then he was stumbling back through the brush, marks of his transgression starkly dappling pale flesh.

He watched the judgment settle on Martin’s normally placid features, yet shrugged it off. The meddling concerns of his so-called loved ones were of no regard in this. “What?”

The tense silence blanketing the car lifted only slightly. “You could at least pretend.” The accusation was unexpected and Arthur considered it carefully before answering.

“I could. Would that make it better?”

“Better is relative. At least no one could accuse me of complicity.” His brother was making the face again, cheeks puffed out, brows drawn low, and forehead furrowed. It was his serious face, the one that always telegraphed bad news. “Mom wants to have you committed.”

“That isn’t so easy.” Arthur’s glib reply did nothing to ease the tension and he wasn’t surprised when the car glided to a stop on the shoulder.

He didn’t resist the hand cupping his cheek, turning to regard the once mirror of Martin’s features. “I want to be on your side, you know I do. But I’m worried about you.”

“I’ll be fine,” he soothed. “I’m not hurting anyone. I know it can’t go on forever. I’m just not ready to stop yet. Soon, I promise.”

“You swear?”

“Cross my heart.” Sharp eyes searched for the lie behind his words, but their inherent sincerity must have been convincing. The car slid back into traffic, and Arthur slid back into his contemplation of the perfect death.

The next few weeks were filled with stolen moments and the search for epiphany. His friends stopped meeting his gaze, eyes skittering past the bruised tones of his skin to rest on the nothingness behind him. Their discomfort only fueled his frantic quest to either hold on to what he had, or find a permanent solution to his situation.

Even his lover pressured him, waiting until he lay limp and boneless, still panting from his release. “You can’t continue on like this.”

“You sound like you don’t want to be here.” Arthur’s hurt leaked into the words.

“I should say that.” A surprisingly strong hand kneaded the muscles of his neck, and Arthur turned away, forcing his limbs to stop trembling. “I should… but I can’t. I’ve come to care for you.”

The reluctant response, and the brilliant smile it wrung from the usually somber Arthur, touched off another round of heated kisses. Hands roamed over all the skin they could reach, painting new marks of possession across creamy flesh.

Ironically, when he was most lost in the embrace of his shadow lover, he was closest to the answer he so desperately sought. Recognition simmered in the dark corners of his mind, pushed into hiding by the intoxication of one more perfect kiss.

When it hit him Arthur almost rejected the idea. Too trite, too pat, too sappily sweet. But it called to him, whispering in the long dark hours of the night, and piercing through the drone of disapproval that blanketed his waking hours.

“What have you done?” The gossamer whisper almost went unnoticed.

“I’m going to join you.” Arthur’s confession released the tight knot of lingering tension inside him. “I’ve been planning it for a long time.”

“There is no me without you.” The aching sadness in his phantom lover’s voice had him searching the familiar features, hoping he had misinterpreted. “I will miss you.”

Their last kiss. Arthur was torn between laughing and crying, his shoulders shaking, the taste of blood on his lips. He wanted to apologize but plump lips covered his, the taste of blood growing stronger. Too late, he realized their stolen kisses weren’t enough, would never be enough. He couldn’t remember what his lover tasted like, so he cried harder.

“I’m tired,” Arthur’s eyelids drooped, fluttering in time with the beats of his heart.

“Then sleep.” The husky whisper was infinitely gentle, shadow hands clutching him tightly. “Just close your eyes and rest.”

“Kiss me again?” His eyes closed, the lids giving up the battle to stay open, stress and pain softening away.

“Dream of me. I’ll kiss you when you wake.”

“Oh, Miss Walker, you’re finally here.” The man scrambled from behind his desk to shake her hand.

Kay put down her travel bag so she could accept the handshake. “You’re Mister Chumley, then?”

His grip was weak and trembling, and the haunted look in his eyes betrayed many sleepless nights. In the photos she had been given, his posture had been proud, but those broad shoulders were now stooped, like those of a man twice his age. “Yes, yes, Victor Chumley, that’s right, that’s right. I hope you had a pleasant trip? Can I get you some water, maybe something to eat? They have food we can eat here. Haha, of course they do, what am I saying? Let me get some for you, okay, Miss Walker?” He spoke too quickly, the words tumbling over each other to get out.

“You can call me Kay. That won’t be necessary. I ate before the transference. You’re going home.”

“I am? Oh, oh…” Relief washed some of the stress out of his face, and while he didn’t look any less broken, at least he wasn’t going to collapse in pieces on the floor.

She patted his hand lightly. “Everything will be just fine. I’ll pick up where you left off.” A little knot of tension sprang up in her stomach, causing a wave of nausea. She let go of his hand again, and it quelled. This was going to take some getting used to.

“What? No. Oh, no. Oh, nonono. I can’t ask anyone to go through what I’ve gone through. It’s too much.”

“Ambassador, you were unprepared for this post. You were prepared for reports, presentations, meetings, committees-everything except what you found. When your first reports got back to Earth, the Department knew immediately that you didn’t have the right skills. That’s why they sent me.”