Valentine’s Weekend
William lay comfortably reclined
against a pile of pillows, naked; book in hand, combing his fingers through his lover’s hair as it lay spread out atop
his thigh. Xander sighed happily and arched into the touch. One of Xander’s hands snuck up and grabbed William’s
soft, pale hand, bringing it down for a kiss. William smiled and returned the favor, planting a soft kiss on Xander’s
palm. He marveled, not for the first time at the differences in their coloring. “I’ve been in California for the
better part of a year. You’d think I might be less pale by now.”
Xander
chuckled at the familiar complaint. “Sweetheart, you’re British. I think it’s genetic to be as pale as a
corpse.”
“A
corpse?” William pretended indignation. “Such romantic things you say.”
Xander
tried for innocent. “A very sexy corpse?”
William
harrumphed and focused his attention on the book in his hand.
“I’m
sorry?”
William
ignored Xander, so he began to rub his head back and forth, brushing his hair against William’s awakening erection.
William groaned and stilled Xander’s movement. “All right, fine, I forgive you.”
Xander
smiled. “Good. Give me chocolate?”
Laughing,
William plucked a chocolate out of the box on the bedside table and placed it between Xander’s lips. Xander happily
sucked the chocolate into his mouth and managed to suck on William’s fingers in the process. William tapped Xander playfully
on the nose. “None of that now, we’re supposed to be resting.”
Xander
grinned unrepentantly. “Fine, but if you expect me to be still, you’d better get with the reading.”
Before
William could even open his mouth, Xander was interrupting him again. “More chocolate first.”
Another
chocolate was placed between Xander’s lips. “If you keep this up, you’ll get fat.” William teased,
patting Xander’s decidedly not pudgy stomach.
Xander
shrugged. “Then I guess you’ll have a fat boyfriend, won’t you?”
William
sighed. “Well, if you insist on getting fat, I guess I will have to join you.” So saying he placed a chocolate
between his own lips and bent over, allowing Xander to bite into the sweet as well.
Xander happily did so and their lips met in a sticky, sweet kiss that soon had them both moaning. William licked along
Xander’s lips then sat up with a sigh. “We’re supposed to be resting.”
Xander
blinked lust-fogged eyes up at his lover. “Why are we resting again?”
“Because…”
William tried to remember the logic behind his earlier argument. “Oh yes! Because we’ve been having sex since
last night and we needed to do something else.”
Xander
looked bewildered. “But it’s Valentine’s Day. Why on earth would we do anything else?”
William
tried to think of a reason. “Actually yesterday was Valentine’s Day, today is simply our weekend.”
Xander
pouted. “But can’t it be Valentine’s Weekend instead?”
“I
don’t see why not, but we still needed a break.”
Sighing,
Xander gave up the roundabout argument. “Fine, but you promised to read me some poetry and you haven’t been reading.”
“That’s
because you keep interrupting me with questions and requests for chocolate, silly brat.”
Xander stuck out his tongue
but otherwise remained quiet. William paged through his book until he found a poem he thought Xander would like. “Here
we go, pay attention now.
My velvet brush dips deep
and lingers there
In the warm inkwell
of your endless desire "
As William’s sultry
voice flowed over them, Xander decided that they’d had enough rest. So he slipped off the bed and stood at the foot.
William raised a questioning eyebrow, but Xander motioned for him to keep on reading. “the ink of passion flows
for me tonight”
William gasped as Xander grabbed
his ankles and with one sharp pull, yanked him to the end of the bed. He looked up at Xander, who stood there holding his
feet in the air, an innocent look on his face. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Xander shook his head sadly.
“You’re supposed to keep reading. You don’t want to get punished, do you?”
Swallowing the automatic
‘yes please!’ that threatened to burst from his lips, William picked the book back up and began reading. “so I may show you how It feels my Muse, To be so truly needed
by an ardent lover "
Xander meanwhile grabbed the
neckties from the pile of clothing they had carelessly discarded after their fancy dinner last night and began tying William’s
legs to the posts of the bed so they were raised and spread, his ass barely touching the edge of the bed.
Gasping softly in anticipation,
William tried to keep reading. “I hunger to write poems of love’s power, Upon the warm supple parchment of
your skin”
Xander knelt down, disappearing
from William’s view. As the words of William’s poem continued to drift around them, Xander began probing William’s
entrance with his tongue, following quickly with two slick fingers.
“secret words that…*gasp*…that
only you….oh gods, Xan!”
Xander’s fingers stretched
and slicked him, teasing his prostate and making it quite impossible to focus on the book. Luckily, Xander seemed to have
forgotten about the poem because he didn’t mention it as he stood and slid easily into William. The book fell, unnoticed,
from William’s hand as he reached over his head and tangled his fingers in the quilt, attempting to brace himself against
Xander’s thrusts.
Xander’s hands locked
around William’s hips, holding him in place as he buried himself in his lover. “Fuck, Will… You feel so
good!”
William arched and pressed into
Xander, trying to get more of that beloved cock inside him. “Please Xan, harder!”
A harsh groan and faster thrusts
were all the answer Xander could manage.
William looked up into his beloved’s
face, eyes half closed in pleasure, plump pink lip caught between white teeth as Xander concentrated on bringing them both
as much pleasure as possible. “Oh Xander love, you’re so beautiful.”
Xander’s eyes widened
at the love and desire written across William’s features and he leaned over, capturing William’s lips in a fierce
kiss. They kissed deeply, wet slide of tongues mimicking the movement of other body parts. William moaned and thrust up against
Xander, needing his lover deeper, faster, just more.
Xander slid one large,
rough hand off William’s hip and encircled his cock, pumping it in time to his thrusts. William’s body tightened,
his ice blue eyes drifting shut as his orgasm swamped him. Xander watched in awe as his lover came, pleasure sweeping over
the beloved features. William’s shudders ceased and he relaxed back into the bed, smiling a soft, sated smile up at
his lover as he squeezed around Xander’s cock. Xander cried out, his thrusts erratic as William expertly milked his
orgasm from him.
Xander collapsed on top of William
with a groan. “You are too good at that.”
“Hmm. Thank you, though
some of that praise belongs to you. You are quite talented yourself.”
Xander mumbled an answer, already
drifting off in a post-coital doze, despite hanging half off the bed and lying on top of William.
“However,” William’s
voice prodded him back to consciousness. “Your follow up needs some work.”
Xander raised his head and looked
at his lover questioningly.
William smiled. “I’m
quite sure that we would both be more comfortable if my legs were untied.”
“Oops, sorry sweetheart.”
Blushing slightly, Xander stood up and quickly untied William’s ankles from the bedposts, rubbing them briskly to help
ease the returning feeling. William groaned as his legs were lowered. Scooting back up the bed, he patted the mattress, motioning
for Xander to come sit by him. Xander climbed up onto the bed, curling up around William. “I’m sorry for that
sweetheart. How can I make it up to you?”
“Well,” William
arched an eyebrow. “You could start by feeding me some of that chocolate. Then I believe I would like to hear some poetry.”
Xander chuckled as he placed
a chocolate between William’s lips. “Anything for you beloved. Anything.”
~
The End.
Caligraphy of Desire
My velvet brush
dips deep and lingers there
in the warm
inkwell of your endless desire
the ink of
passion flows for me tonight
so I may show
you how It feels my muse
to be so truly
needed by an ardent lover
I hunger to
write poems of love's power
upon the warm
supple parchment of your skin
secret words
that only you can comprehend
till my brush
runs dry and I return to dip again
in ink made
by god for the calligraphy of desire
W. I. Boucher
September 2, 1999