A Midsummer's Night's Dream Pt. 03

Michael was dozing. He felt satiated, content, soft. The sweat had evaporated, it was cooler now towards dawn, and he had wrapped himself up in his sheets. Nicole, Diane and Gabrielle, seeing him with his eyes closed, smiling, had left whispering and laughing.

To a background of the cheeping of the birds that were gradually waking up, Michael was daydreaming, running through memories of his youth. He enjoyed doing this after making love, reliving the sensations of old loves.

For example, James, his first real affair, at university in England, to whom he owed his true sexual awakening. He sighed with pleasure as he recalled that strong, athletic body, that firm but soft mouth that smelled vaguely of blackcurrant, the dark bush surrounding the beloved penis, which he so relished taking in his mouth, and the slightly salty semen that gushed down his throat and trickled down his chest. He touched his own sex, finding it, as expected, wet. He brought his hand to his mouth to savour the very special, very male liquor.

He felt truly blessed. He loved sex and all that it represented. For him sexuality was a continuum that ran from the heterosexual to the homosexual -- and all stops between - and his desires varied almost according to his mood.

Excessively masculine bodies didn't grab him: he responded more to the feminine, but the physical form the feminine took might be a body that was male, one that was female or one that was in-between or even both.

He loved the game of sex: not the game of seduction, which did not interest him, but the playfulness of the act itself. In his view, sex was just what adults do when they play. He loved what it involved, the laughter, the complicity, the tenderness of an intimate gesture, but sometimes also harshness or the chance to play an unaccustomed role, to hit or be hit, to dominate or be dominated, to submit or be submitted to.

His desires were principally oral. He was always eager to taste with his mouth, to lick, to drink, to suck: nipples, a cock, secretions of all kinds. He could make languid love to a moist pussy, exploring, caressing and stimulating for a long time with his tongue that mysterious and powerful organ that is the clitoris.

But what he enjoyed most was kissing. Gently exploring the mouth of a lover, this secret cave, wet, tasty, soft and hard all at the same time, then he was in ecstasy. He had even sometimes come just by making love to a dear mouth, long, tenderly, becoming firmer and more passionate, then urgent, until....

And all of these sensations should be accompanied by the corresponding smells. He thought it was a pity that the modern obsession with hygiene and cleanliness had led everyone to shower every day, to spray themselves with scented products, to hide their own animal odours.

He remembered one of his past lovers, Hazel. A redhead, she had had a very particular smell, and even now the mere sight of a redhead evoked the memory of it without fail. It was a slightly bitter smell, a mixture of perspiration, of very white skin with freckles, of breath tinged with whisky and champagne, and of the musk of her sex and armpits. Often Hazel came to visit by Tube directly from the office, and jumped straight into bed with him without neutralising her natural smells in the shower. Sublime and erotic!

Michael had a hard-on again just thinking about all this. He touched himself, squeezing the middle of his penis, where he was most responsive.

Meanwhile, another man, David, also one of Michael's writing course participants with Gaby, Diane and Nicole, was also lying in bed listening to the whispering leaves rustling in the Aegean breeze, a breath that brushed against his sex like the soft hand of an admiring girl.

David was thinking about his reaction to the statue of Hermes that Michael had shown them in the museum at Olympia the other day. The lad had never questioned his sexuality, but there, confronted by the beautiful Greek youth, he was confused, feeling desire rise in him as he looked. On the way back to the hotel he found himself wet under his underwear, which normally only happened when he looked at women.

At 19 he was tall, athletic - indeed he was a footballer and swimmer - but lean, with well-defined but not exaggerated muscles. His pecs were firm, with small nipples that he could now feel hardening. His chest was not hairy, but under his briefs he cultivated a lush secret garden.

He admired Michael, the tutor, who had something sexy underneath his not directly striking appearance. A slightly cynical look, a slightly mischievous detachment, a certain savoir-vivre. An almost feminine mouth, slim hands and, emerging from his shorts, a pair of well-turned legs.

David got up and put on his bathrobe. He wanted to talk with Michael about Hermes and the sculptor Praxiteles. It was the early hours of the morning, but he had a hunch that Michael would receive him.

"Come in!" he heard when he knocked on the door. "My goodness", Michael went on, "it's like Piccadilly Circus in here, all these visitors coming and going. But it's always a pleasure to see you youngsters. I'm very lucky. Come and sit here David. What brings you here at this hour?"

David goes over the unmade bed, a bit embarrassed to see that Michael is naked. The sheets are a mess and there's an indefinable smell and a kind of electric tension in the air.

"Michael, I wanted to talk to you about Hermes. I was very impressed with that sculpture."

"Yes, you were, weren't you? You and Nicole couldn't tear yourselves away, I saw. She was behind it, staring at the buttocks, and you were in front, looking at... what in particular?"

"Er, his face, his pecs, his thighs. He's a real athlete, a god, you might say. A masterpiece of sculpture, and of the male form."

"Ah, so you're a connoisseur of boys. I had no idea."

"Well actually, no, or at least not normally, but then I could just imagine how those thighs would feel under my hands, I wanted to run my hand through his hair, it was so lifelike and really attrractive."

"Like this?" Michael asked, laughing, ruffling David's hair.

"Er yes, I guess so", answers the young man, blushing.

The more experienced teacher gently pulls on David's hair, bringing him closer to him and placing his hand on his chest. "Wow, your skin's so smooth, you remind me of our lovely Hermes yourself."

Michael leans forward and starts tickling the young athlete's nipples with the tip of his tongue, right then left. David gives a sigh of pleasure. Michael covers his chest with small delicate kisses. David feels the stubble scratching his body.

His nipples harden, and that's not all. His penis is gradually rising under his bathrobe. Michael pulls the garment aside, bends down, places his mouth on the surrounding lush hair, and pushes into it, brushing the stiffening prick.

David moans with pleasure and frustration. Suddenly he wants to penetrate something! He wants to relieve himself somewhere wet, dark and fragrant. The only relief he gets is from Michael enveloping his sex with a warm hand.

"Oh yes, rub it, rub it!" says the young man, panting.

"Hey hey, patience," answers the master. Michael presses hard just at the base of the penis and the glans takes on a dark red, almost purple, colour. The single eye of the magnificent organ observes him, then starts to weep. Michael loves it, this sweet nectar that portends more intense pleasures. He bends over the hard young penis and gently sucks the clear liquid that flows from it.

"Oh, I'm going to come!"

"Now now, not so fast, we can't have that."

Michael moves his mouth away and lies down next to David.

"Come on boy, first you're going to taste a man's cock. You'll see, it's delicious." And he takes David at the back of the neck and bends him gently down towards his own throbbing member.

David inhales the scent of sex. A mixture of female musk, male semen, sweat, dried secretions on the other man's body, on the penis, which is also now hard and expectant, and in the wiry hair around it.

He takes in the beauty of the rod before him. It is straight, bulging at the end, and he perceives a throbbing blue vein running all the way along it. He reaches out and touches the tip. He feels the velvet, no, the silk, of the naked flesh of the exposed glans and marvels at the contrast with the coarser, hairier, skin of the rest of the male body, to which he feels surprisingly drawn.

Delicately, he moves towards the proud glans, all the while sniffing the garden of masculine aromas. He parts his lips and kisses it.

Ah, it has been so long! Michael smiles, sighs, and sinks back on the bed, savouring again the knowledge that a firm young male body wants to make love with him. He feels his juices starting to flow more freely.

David sees an emerging drop and, enchanted by the sap coming out of the stalk, hurries to lick it. Guided by the memory of fellation done to him, he slowly slides his tongue up and down the pillar, licks the balls, and soon he feels Michael getting more and more eager for him to take his penis fully into his mouth.

Slowly, deliberately, smiling to himself, David moves up, wanting to tease by just licking the glans, but just then Michael pushes his head down with one hand and his cock slips into his young lover's mouth.

David, though taken by surprise, moans with pleasure. His lips seem swollen, extra sensitive, he feels like a vagina that wants nothing more than to be penetrated. He can feel the silky, wet, viscous glans sliding into his mouth. It's an incredible sensation. Eagerly he wraps his lips around the older man's prick, swirls his tongue around it and licks and pumps it. He savours the new sensation of being penetrated as he has penetrated so many women. He realizes that his mouth is one vast erogenous zone.

His own prick is hard, hard, hard and wet, wet, wet, it's throbbing, tense, it wants to spurt out, but he controls himself. The other man's cock feels huge, it reaches to the back of his throat and he only wants to keep sucking, to prolong this new oral pleasure.

Michael pushes rhythmically with his thighs, moaning all the while, and David knows he mustn't stop. Suddenly he is sucking so hard that Michael suddenly convulses in his mouth and a hot jet hits the back of his throat followed by a second and another.

Michael lets out a loud cry of delight and his hands grip David's head so tight that David can't move. Not that he'd want to, as the spurts spray down his throat and he swallows them greedily.

Then David feels he too can let go and he straddles one of Michael's legs, squeezes it between his thighs like a gigantic cock, feeling it against his balls and anus, and pumps his cum in great streams against the firm flesh, two, three, four times, and moaning with each spurt.

They continue rubbing against each other to prolong their orgasms and their pleasure, and then David finally moves up to kiss his new lover long and languidly on the mouth, exploring him with his tongue. It smells vaguely of blackcurrant.

To be continued...