1 Chapter 1

It’s late but sleep has not yet found me. The moonlight, like sifted icing sugar, traces the curve of my beloved’s shoulder, the mound of his bicep and the length of his forearm, where it momentarily disappears. It reappears atop his hip and sets out along his muscular thigh before disappearing into the darkness that veils the rest of his body.

I roll over towards my darling Eduardo as he sleeps. My body is now an inch or two from his. I can smell him. It’s a manly aroma—a hint of soap, perspiration and something else, perhaps hormones secreted from the pores that cover his naked, tanned body. I inhale, deeply. His scent has my loins stirring. I touch his back, sculpted and hard, with the tips of my fingers and breathe him in once more. I’m now fully erect.

I snuggle into him. I want him to feel my love, warm and swollen, pressing against the mounds of his lightly-haired buttocks. I thrust my pelvis slowly forwards and feel the top third of my cock disappear into the moist crevice between his gluteals. I stop. I listen and wait. Unfortunately, his only reaction to my advances is to settle further into the mattress. I roll back onto my side of the bed and stare up at the shadows that adorn the ceiling.

My thoughts turn to times past when Eduardo and I would spend whole days in bed, our fingers and lips exploring every part of each other’s bodies. His cock would stay inside me long after it had spilled its seed and as we talked and cuddled it would grow again. I’d feel it expand inside me, stretching the skin of my anus taut; his enormous erection filling me completely. As a direct result, my cock would swell, too. I’d feel his hips gently moving against me and our lovemaking would begin afresh.

My hand has found its way to my erection. I’m stroking it, but all the while I’m fantasising it’s Eduardo’s hand working its magic under cover of the night. I close my eyes and bring my other hand up to my chest. I take the small button of my nipple between my thumb and forefinger and gently twist it, massaging it. The sensation of that small bead of soft flesh between the hard pads of my fingertips causes me to shudder. I feel an energy course down my spine. I arch my back and release a small sigh into the darkness.

I spread my legs slightly, just enough to be able to admit the fingers that were moments ago on my nipple. When they come into contact with the sensitive skin of my anus, I shudder again. I trace tiny circles over the small band of puckered flesh and begin to gyrate against my hand. It can’t compare to the sensation Eduardo’s cock, a thick eight inches, creates when it pushes against me in readiness to enter, but it’s all I have and judging by the welling sensation in my groin it’s enough to make do.

Somewhere, at the edge of perception, I’m aware Eduardo has rolled over, but I’m so close to completion I can’t be distracted. My middle finger slips into my arsehole and the feeling of imminent climax intensifies. I hear myself moan as I push the finger further up to reach the hardening pebble of my prostate. When they come into contact, there’s an explosion. A shower of warm splatters rains down on my perspiring flesh. My hand continues at my cock. I want to extract every last drop. I want the wave of euphoria to continue for as long as possible. My cock has become super-sensitive. I shudder and spasm. As I lay panting as quietly as I’m able, I feel little snakes of semen slither down my torso, tickling as they run towards the cotton sheets beneath.

Eduardo begins to snore. For once it’s a comforting sound because it means he hasn’t caught me in the act of pleasuring myself. And if he had? It might not have been such a great disaster. It may have triggered something within him. Awoken long dormant fires. I miss him, for though he’s sleeping peacefully beside me, he may as well be a million miles away.

I lean over and kiss him on the cheek. My cock twitches. My lips linger for a few seconds before I withdraw to my side of the bed and close my eyes. If nothing else, the exertion of masturbation has brought about an overwhelming desire for sleep. I roll over so my back is towards Eduardo and fall quickly into dreams.

* * * *

Some hours later, daylight pours into the room through open windows. The filmy white curtains dance on an invisible breeze, which continues across the room and over my nakedness. Eduardo has already left the bed we share, gone to attend to some chore or other around the estate. It’s my estate, inherited, of course, yet I don’t do anything more taxing than instruct the servants. Eduardo, on the other hand, feels an incomprehensible need to work. His reason, he explains, is that hard physical labour is the best work out a man’s body can have. Possibly, he’s correct. Eduardo’s features are rugged. His body is stockier than mine, more solid and as hard as rock; evidence of his claim if ever there was. Fortunately, I have genes to thank for my attractive appearance, and toned, slender body. I say fortunately, because I’m allergic to exercise and feel nauseous at the mere mention of the word.