L.E. Bryce/Aneshu

Phaze Publishing

“You look like a prince.”
Aneshu honored the compliment with a smile. “It must be the wine that makes me seem so.”
“My eyes don’t deceive me.”
“And my eyes perceive a fetching blush on your cheeks, and my ears discern the faintest lisp.” So saying, Aneshu gently took the cup from Elami’s hand and set it aside. “My dear, you never lisp unless you’re onstage or drunk. Do you truly want me to have to carry you home?”
Elami leaned against him, turning his head so his lips grazed Aneshu’s cheek. In the morning his kiss would be stale, but now it tasted of wine and warmth. “Would you, dear?”
“No, but I’ll put you to bed.”
Hands busily explored his chest, toying with the silver pectoral hanging there. “Yes, you will.”
Aneshu found Tydu and politely took his leave, leading Elami down the stairs into the street, lit for the occasion with scores of bright lanterns. They returned to a house alive with celebration, for Tahrun had somehow scraped together enough money to afford a modest feast. Merash, a tipsy understudy clinging to his neck, offered an encouraging wink.
Elami allowed Aneshu to remove his sandals and garland, but resisted all efforts to get him to lie down. Seizing Aneshu by the collar, he pulled him forward into a long, eager kiss.
“You’ve been drinking,” said Aneshu.
“So have you, love. I still know what I want.”
Aneshu pulled away long enough to close the door and remove his garland and jewelry before returning to the bed. There’s no harm in it. We would have ended the evening like this anyway. He knelt passively on the mattress so Elami could kiss him, undo his robe, and move down to his chest. When Elami lapped at his nipples, he sighed and lay back.
“Do you want more?” he asked.
Elami teased him a moment longer before responding, “Your cock.”
Alcohol lent a fuzzy aura to the encounter, a lassitude in which Aneshu was content to let Elami take control of their lovemaking. “However you want it,” he said.
Elami peeled back the robe, lifted it away, and tossed it aside. Tucking a cushion behind his head, Aneshu sat up to watch Elami’s skilled fingers play over the bulge in his loincloth; the friction of linen and warm flesh rubbing against his cock made him groan. Even intoxicated, Elami knew his craft, knew how to slide his fingertips along the edge of a man’s loincloth and tease until the man in question, frustrated by desire, tore the fabric away and guided his cock into a mouth that eagerly accepted it.
A mouth that thoroughly enjoyed its work, that knew how to seize control even when all his partner wanted to do was thrust and come. Elami could nibble at the tip, licking the crown where the foreskin peeled back, suck a man’s balls until he felt ready to burst from that stimulation alone, or take a man to his very root. For a man he liked, Aneshu knew, he would do it all, taking his time, deriving as much pleasure in giving as the one who received his attention.
Aneshu, his legs splayed, relaxed against the wall, fingers twined in Elami’s hair, torn between watching his cock sliding in and out of Elami’s wet mouth and closing his eyes to let the sensation take him. Both options offered exquisite pleasure, especially as Elami could draw out their lovemaking for a long time.
“Elami,” he grunted, “take off your clothes. I want to see your ass.”
Even this act assumed erotic grace. Elami slowly stripped, running his hands over his body, lingering on his nipples and erect cock before crawling back onto the bed. Once again Aneshu fed him his cock while leaning forward to caress his taut, rounded ass and finger him.
Elami released him. “Do you want to fuck me?” he asked huskily.
“I want to come.”
Nothing more. Elami could have him however he wished, in his ass or mouth. Either way would feel good.
Elami brought oil. After thoroughly coating Aneshu’s cock, he offered the jar and then his ass. “Make me ready.”
Aneshu, ignoring the throbbing need in his groin, slicked his finger with oil and slowly pushed it inside his lover, moistening the way. Three times he did it, even as Elami spread himself wider and groaned. An invitation to take him from behind, the position he liked best, but alcohol and the day’s exhaustion made Aneshu too sluggish to rise up onto his knees. “Turn around and sit on my lap so I can watch you.”
“I thought you wanted to watch my ass.” Even now, at the height of his desire, Elami pouted prettily, but he complied, slowly easing himself onto Aneshu’s cock. Aneshu waited until he was fully sheathed, then seized Elami about the waist and began to thrust.
As Elami flexed his body and let his head fall back, Aneshu kissed his throat, licked his nipples, and enjoyed the feel of Elami’s cock grazing his belly. Moisture leaked from its tip. Elami needed no assistance to achieve climax. Like any well-trained catamite, he knew his body intimately enough to see to his own needs.
Aneshu clenched his teeth, burying his face in Elami’s shoulder as he shuddered and came. Elami cried out, then slumped forward. They remained entwined, briefly dozing off in a sweaty, sticky tangle before stirring again. Usually Aneshu did not linger when he was done making love. Either he got dressed and left or, if the bed was his own, evicted his partner, but over the past year he had become accustomed to Elami’s presence, and even craved it.
Aneshu felt Elami move, heard him mumble something which he did not catch. It did not matter. Their lovemaking brought a satisfactory end to the best day they had known in more than two years.