Dance of the Chimera

In one movement, the chimera slid back off his lover's lap, extended his legs behind him with the grace of a gymnast, and sank down, spreading his dark hands across Marrowyn's bulging thighs. He flashed a predatory smile as he slithered between the older man's legs, parted them, and began to trail kisses up the inner thigh until he felt the press of Marrowyn's heat on his cheek. He nuzzled it, felt the haze of warmth it radiated, and heard his lover hiss, felt him shudder. Parting the older man's knees further, he trailed kissed over the silhouette of Marrowyn's cock, causing the mage's breath to quicken.

The smirk he gave was deadly, and Marrowyn, seeing his intent, placed a huge hand in the boy's glistening curls and fondled their soft ringlets as Aleryas, as deftly as he had with his fingers, pulled lace after lace with his teeth. He drew it out, made it hurt. He could feel Marrowyn's cock twitch and pulse, strain and push, aching for the chimera's touch.

Aleryas had not undone the last string when Marrowyn's length sprung up, veined and pulsing. The older man was smaller than Aleryas, but thick, and wonderfully mature. The cockhead was an exhilarating purple, with large, meandering veins. He bit his lip, locked eyes with Marrowyn whose features were a dreamy mix of ecstatic and sultry, and trailed his tongue from the base to the tip, never once breaking eye contact, though Marrowyn's eyes rolled. For a moment he shifted attention to the large balls, licked, swirled with his tongue, and took one in his mouth. The taste of heat and spice and sweat and salt was intoxicating. The chimera sucked hard, slurping at the plum-sized testicle in his mouth, then let it out with a pop. The old man hissed, and when Aleryas finally grasped the burning member, opened his mouth and took him, the older man threw his head back and gasped. A few ragged breaths escaped as he worked the head deep, past the tongue to punch the back of his throat, gulping and squelching, tongue extended to cushion the twitching and contracting member in his mouth and gather every iota of Marrowyn's flavor to him.

Time slowed. The sensations became hypnotic—the sound, the scent, the flavor, the expansive thumping at the back of his throat, each time threatening to produce a gag—but Aleryas was good. He would never gag on Marrowyn. He tasted far too good for all that.

Huge hands dug into his hair and squeezed painfully, an exquisite pain, a reward—and something else: a contraction, a pulse, a twitch, a tightening of the saliva-slicked ballsack that enveloped his chin. Marrowyn was getting close. The older man gasped once more, but Aleryas pulled back so quickly he thought his throat turn inside out. Marrowyn shuddered, but the chimera merely watched. He didn't want it to be over so soon, but if it was, if he had been too late, he would not waste a drop of his teacher. But as the older man's eyes rolled back to look on him, and his ragged breathing normalized, it was clear the moment had passed—for now.

'Can't have you quitting on me now,' Aleryas said, and rose to draw Marrowyn into a searing kiss. He bent over the older man's lap, but did not straddle him again. Instead, when next they broke their bond, Aleryas stepped back, leaned against the writing desk, and lifted himself up. When Marrowyn took that as an invitation, the swart youth deployed a leg, graceful as a dancer, and pushed him back down slowly, if playfully. The mage looked slightly puzzled, but intrigued. His eyes were once again drawn to the youth's impressive length, now standing tall, curving into his belly, glistening with pre-ejaculate. The chimera saw that he saw, and trailed a the toe of his extended leg up and down that amazing cleft in the older man's chest. Marrowyn continued to have his eyes on the lad's member, but Aleryas's imagination was now occupied by new sensations.

Then the chimera launched a commanding gaze, unfurling and presenting the ball of his foot directly in his lover's face. Marrowyn glanced at the boy, then at his cock, then to his foot. It took him no time at all to interpret his young lover's commands, and proceeded to nuzzle the bottom of Alerys's foot with his bristled cheek. This was more than the chimera had expected—the sensation was nothing short of exhilarating. The toes, the ball, the soft pad, all experienced Marrowyn's whiskers differently, each with their own notes of pleasure. A calloused hand gripped his foot at the ankle and suddenly, a tingl shot up the youth's spine. Something between a gasp and a sigh escaped the boy's lips, and when he opened his eyes, he saw that Marrowyn was attacking his toes, ball and pad with wet sweeps of the tongue.

The chimera groaned, stretching and arching, wiggling his slick toes. His cock was harder than he could have believed. He had thought of such a thing—had meant to act on it—but never realized to what extent his feet were the gateway to his lust. If they could be for him, then why not Mad Marrowyn?

He pulled out the one foot and replaced it with the other. Marrowyn obliged, caring nothing for which, or for how long he ought to continue, such was the pleasure he knew he was eliciting. But the older man was shocked when he felt where that foot had gone.

He seemed unnerved at first, and indeed when Aleryas placed his saliva-slicked toes against Marrowyn's member, he thought he felt it subside somewhat. But when he closed his toes about it, massaged, flexed the ball of his foot, ran the shaft between his first and second toe—then the game had truly changed. Marrowyn was groaning again, grunting even, and now attacked the chimera's alternate foot with an almost vengeful abandon that threatened to make the boy climax the and there. But strange was this new experience, and he knew not what limits or horizons it offered. He did not know whether he could withstand another moment, another minute, or another month, so he decided to go in for the kill. Where one is good, two is always better.

Aleryas wrenched away the right foot, trailed a toe down Marrowyn's moist chest hairs, and brought it to bear on his cock with the dexterity of a second hand. Marrowyn's hands, confused as to where they ought to be, settled on the arms of the chair, and, with a few of the younger boy's ministrations, were soon gripping tightly. The soft pads caressed, folded around the shaft. The balls worked the head, and the toes flexed and tantalized. He could feel and see his digits glisten with precum, and, squeezing Marrowyn's cock and hearing his husky grunts, knew the game was coming to a close. He was about to win—if there was an object, what better object than victory?

The stiff member being worked between the balls of his feet twitched, the balls tightened. Marrowyn's head flew back, and his chest lept and sank sporadically. The muscles of his stomach tightened and rolled. Aleryas's own cock twitched at the sight. The chimera made an 'o' as he watched the older man's hips buck and grind, his cock jump, rolling between his gyrating feet, and ropes of hot white leap out and splash down in streaks and flows, arcing between his copper toes, smearing on his pads, and flowing down his ankles. Pulse after pulse and grunt after grunt, Marrowyn shuddered at his touch.

His breathing slowed, his head bobbed back, and when Aleryas made movements with his toes, Marrowyn hissed and contorted. The fun was over—for now. But Aleryas—victorious as he was—was not yet satisfied. He extended One foot, and then another, and in his defeated, spent state, still foggy with excess and aftershock, Marrowyn licked each digit clean of his own cum—and it was truly beautiful.

When he was in a state to do so, Aleryas bid his lover to rise. He was not finished with him, nor had his own furious erection subsided in the least. These new explorations required a culminating event, and he wanted one thing.

Wordlessly, he gestured for Marrowyn to climb onto the desk, and he did, after a fashion. Easing his lover down, to placed tender kisses on his parted lips, nibbled his stubbly jaw, straddled his hips and took his half-limp cock into his hand. With a sigh of expectation, the chimera took the older man into himself all at once, sinking to the hilt, stretching and arching his ropey, lithe frame characteristically.

Marrowyn gripped the boy's hips, and he began to ride—slowly at first, grinding occasionally, then faster as Aleryas attempted to milk one more orgasm from his mentor, his lover, his friend. The older man was not totally spent—he found his strength and began thrusting from beneath, slapping his muscled thighs on the youth's small, pert ass. Aleryas arched forward, all but collapsing on Marrowyn's chest, and began fondling, licking, suckling, drawing in the scent of spice and salt and sweat as the older man picked up his pace—Plap! Plap! Plap! It was inevitable. Aleryas straightened himself, ground against Marrowyn's deep thrusts, threw back his head and gripped his length and pumped as he unleashed a growl worthy of his namesake. The older man began to groan, but it was turned into a stuttering roar by the fury of his thrusts. When he buried himself in Aleryas with a long hiss and growl, the chimera could feel the pulse inside him, could feel the second burst of wet heat within him as it coating the cock inside of him and began to leak down his ass and form filaments between his ass and Marrowyn's inner thighs. He was already cumming when he felt the heat inside him. Rope after rope of cum shot across Marrowyn's hairy belly and chest, and every muscle in the youth coiled and shook, from his neck to the belt of Apollo to his quivering thighs, and when the euphoria blinded him and the fire burned out, he fell down atop his lover, grinding and giggling as the shaking subsided and the cock inside him popped out, followed by substantial pearls of seed.

They lay that way for a long time, even as the sun was westering and casting long shadows before the red pall of sunset. Aleryas twirled a finger absently around the hair of one of Marrowyn's nipples, with the older man's huge arms about him.

'Aren't you going to take the stone to you friends?' Marrowyn said after a long while.

'They can wait,' Aleryas said, snuggling into the valley of the man's chest. He felt Marrowyn sigh and the air changed.

'What's wrong?' Aleryas said, raising his eyes to his lover-mentor. Marrowyn had a pained expression and would not meet the boy's gaze.

'It's, uh... I'm leaving, lad.' Aleryas rose up on an elbow.

'Where are you going? For how long?' Marrowyn blinked away what might have been tears.

'I'm sailing... far from here. I'm leaving the College. Thought you of all people should know.' Aleryas leaned back down and laid once more on his lover's chest.

'When are we going?'

That massive chest rumbled a laugh.

'It's we now, is it?'

'It's always been we,' Aleryas said in a tone that broached no argument.

'Aye, I suppose it has,' Marrowyn said. 'Fine—we go as soon as my preparations are ready... but not just yet.'

'Why not?' The mage made a grimace and shifted.

'I think you threw out my back, lad.'

Aleryas laughed, and Marrowyn laughed with him, but there was a sadness in it for the older man—bittersweet.

When they had cleaned and dressed it was already nightfall.

'You'd better get this to your burnout friends, then. Win whatever silly schoolboy bet you had.' Marrowyn tossed the crystal and chain to Aleryas, who pocketed it.

'It will be amusing,' the chimera said, lacing his shirt back up, 'when they expect portents of the future and see nothing but nightmares.'

'Aye,' Marrowyn said, 'it'll be a... a real surprise.'

Later, crossing the grass to the rotunda, Aleryas pulled the talisman from his pocket, but noticed that it was different—not the one Marrowyn had shown him before. His eyes grew wide as it began to glow. It can't be, he thought. Had Marrowyn given him the real Seeing Stone? Lights formed inside of its depths, and scenes began to form. No, it can't be, he thought, watching the phantasmagoria inside the stone's facets. He heard a team of horses somewhere in the distance bray under the driver's whip and shook his head at the visions he was seeing.

It can't, he thought, looking up at Marrowyn's tower. There were no candles burning in the window, and the Reliquary showed no signs of life. The stone had shown him his worst fears, but it was not a trick. He knew that if he went back to the tower now, he would find it deserted.