The Squire

Lord, sleeping at the feet of Sir William was going to kill him.

Duncan wondered if it were possible to die from stroking his own cock too much. He didn’t think so, but what did he know? Hadn’t he heard something about going blind? The idea didn’t stop him.

Using both hands, he stroked up and down the length, imagining Sir William’s big hands instead of his. Other than the sounds he made, the only thing heard in the tent was the soft breathing of the object of his fantasies. Naturally, Sir William didn’t even snore. He was perfect in every way.

Duncan worried his bottom lip with his teeth as he stroked faster. His balls had grown impossibly tight. He ran his index finger along the red head, rubbing in the drop of pre-cum. He closed his eyes, imagining Sir William touching him, stroking him. Or perhaps his mouth…his tongue darting out to flick the tip of Duncan’s cock.

He let out an involuntary groan. His hands stilled on his cock, his heart racing. If Sir William woke…but he heard nothing. Letting out a shaky breath, he put one hand over his mouth to keep the noise from coming out and used the other to work his straining erection.

He supposed it was wrong to lust after one’s knight, but in the two years he’d been Sir William’s squire he’d gone to bed with a hard-on every evening. The painful truth was he’d never been particularly interested in maidens and the like. Big, muscular armored knights were his fantasy.

And Sir William was the most gorgeous one of all. At least in Duncan’s opinion. He’d had the fortune to see the knight naked multiple times and the man was all sleek muscle. Sir William also had a very large cock, and Duncan liked to imagine it thrusting in and out of his ass.

With a ragged moan he covered with his hand, he shot semen all over.

God.

Duncan grabbed a cloth he kept close and wiped himself. Someday, mayhap, he’d actually get to have sex with someone other than his own hand. He’d reached eighteen autumns without losing his virginity to anyone. Of course, he would like it to be Sir William, but unfortunately the handsome blond knight seemed only interested in the fair maidens who offered him their favors.

His breathing having returned to normal, Duncan crawled under his bedroll and attempted to fall asleep. All his life it had taken him a long time for slumber to come. His mind was always full of the day’s events or some conversation or the knight for whom he lusted. Sir William fell asleep within moments of putting his head down. It was quite irritating.

And now…Duncan had to piss. Great.

He scooted out from his sleeping roll and reached for his boots. It was far too cold outside to traipse around barefoot.

“What in God’s name are you doing now?”

Duncan froze at the mumbled words coming from Sir William. He couldn’t have been awake.

“I…I have to…um go,” he blurted out.

Sir William sighed.

“I’m sorry to have awakened you, sir.”

“In truth, you are the noisiest squire I have had. Go on then, and be quiet when you return.” Sir William turned to face away from Duncan’s position.

Duncan exhaled and scrambled up. Sir William didn’t sound like he’d heard him touching himself. Well, he hadn’t said he did, anyway. Duncan slipped out of the tent.

Glancing around at the other scattered tents, Duncan took in the area. A few of the knights were still awake and watching over the camp. He saw movement near the trees to the left and a small fire several feet away from his position. The other knights would prevent anyone from getting to Sir William if they came under attack, as he was the son of their baron, Lord de Villiers.

Duncan hurried to the right where there was a small lake and some trees. It was too cold to linger. He undid his braies and relieved himself next to a tree. He’d turned to make his way back to his tent when he heard rustling close to his position.

“Who’s there?” he whispered. Why hadn’t he picked up his sword before venturing out? What kind of knight would he make if he wasn’t prepared?

The only answer he got was a low moan. Frowning, Duncan walked toward the noise, being careful not to step on any leaves that would give him away. Crouching down next to leafy foliage, he peered through two branches.

Standing with his braies down around his ankles was one of the other knight’s squires, Aaron. Aaron was bent at the waist, leaning against a tree trunk. Two muscular hands gripped Aaron’s hips and a thin, but long cock thrust between his ass cheeks. From his current spot, Duncan could only make out the lower half of the man fucking Aaron, the rest being obstructed by leafy branches.