Richard I

To some it might seem strange that James was thinking of classical literature and poetry in that moment. With a nervous but excited hunger burning in his stomach, he was just about to get on his knees and into position to sate a lifetime of unrequited longing. He was about to submit to a much larger partner by going down on Richard's full length. For his own self preservation, fearing how much it might sting to truly dream of this but then never have it, he had held queer desire in check for over four decades. Finally that had changed.

James was so close that he could safely let his imagination go. The connection to literature was, in part, that James was a lover of all forms of beautiful writing, just as he was a lover of all things sensuous, desirous and beautiful. Here was beauty and desire personified in front of him. Literature in its deepest essence is shot through with all all manner of such desires, requited and unrequited. It's about imagination and about expanding the possible. Admittedly, and as he began to assume his submissive position, James found himself at close quarters with another kind of expansion, but that doesn't mean he wasn't expanding his mind and soul too.

To be clear, in the face of Dick not all of James' imaginings were literary and on a higher plane. Some of his current thoughts, as he knelt and steadied himself only inches from an enormous eight inch perfect phallus, involved fine-grained particulars of how he was going to be filled and covered in cream. Even through the anticipation he could almost feel his appetite being quelled with a cooling, satisfying, sweet deposit right in the heart of his butterfly-ridden and churning stomach. Such a deposit felt like the only thing that could settle him now.

He'd admitted to himself that he wanted this and from there it had become a desperate need. From that general starting point James' embodied imagination really began to race ahead. Ideally he imagined an excess supply spurting out of Richard that was so thick, so rich, and so plentiful that it not only quelled the fire and filled the appetite in his stomach, but having achieved that end it filled his mouth, slid over his lips, ran down his chin, and landed on his low-cut blouse and lace-cover breasts.

Not yet satisfied with just these thoughts James' mind raced ahead even further. He imagined Richard recovering quickly thanks to James' eager attention. Re-enlarged and hardened to explosion point Richard would first stretch him out, fill him up, and ram into him with force. There was no need for gentleness. James had been ready for this for a lifetime. He could already imagine crying out for the joy of experiencing pleasure he never thought would come, calling on Richard to go ever harder and to slam into him with ever more force whilst James leaned back to meet each thrust.

For James he imagined all this as a kind of deeper fusion with another, inside and out. He fantasied that if they just kept up the urgency, and if they continued a rhythm of reaching forward and back to meet one another time and again, that somehow they might meld and this feeling would never end. It didn't matter how impossible that horizon might seem. He wanted to reach for it. After feeling and milking carnal and urgent embodied satisfaction as far as it could humanly go, James imagined how he would push Dick over the edge once more.

James dreamed of squeezing down on Richard as hard as he could with his own rear lips, all while leaning back into him one last time with so much force that his bigger partner should fall over. But Richard held strong for him. In that specific imagined moment and as they were joined as close as two people could possibly be joined, James took Richard into a rare state of higher ecstasy. As much was the gateway to a closeness he had long sought but never thought he would have. As a glorious tactile reward for his efforts he imagined being filled in yet another part of his insides, and so much so that even taking account of all the sweetened cum that was needed to fill a Richard sized space there was still far too much.

When Richard was reluctantly eased out excess would gush and then drip slowly and erotically out of James' sated second lips. But even as James contemplated the all-too-perfect and erect phallus now inches from his face, and even as he could feel the possibility he'd just dreamed in full, wide, carnal and luscious detail, he found that his mind wandered away from these immediate pleasures and on to related literary ones. In truth he was contemplating literotica of earlier ages, even if certain prudish and stale guardians of the literary canon would turn up their noses at that accurate assessment.

With his body James started to go further, now properly positioned on his knees as he breathed in rapid and shallow excited breathes. He was beginning to take first tentative licks as a precursor to getting the full girth and length of Richard into his mouth. Meanwhile, and surprisingly, with his mind he could hardly help but think of Sappho. Ah, the elusive and seductive Sappho. She was one of those rare Greek women to enter a literary cannon dominated by men. She was even depicted by Raphael amongst fellow legendary poets Virgil, Dante and Homer in the Vatican.

The particular work James thought of was celebrating music and poetry. These two realms were an intoxicating and inseparable mix at one time. In her day Sappho's lyric poetry to music must have soared given the high regard with which it was held by those who heard it. Yet this was not high culture separate to life and sexuality. There's an underlying reason, even if that reason might be refracted, sometimes debased, and lacking its original richness, as to why the very idea of sapphic literature warms the nethers of millions around the world even now.

Sappho's image might grace the walls of even religious sites, but there's also eroticism dancing all through what we have left of her poetic song. It includes clear written evidence of the use of ancient dildos. One such ancient pleasure device had even recently been identified amongst Roman artefacts uncovered in Britain. Initially the British stiff upper lip seems to have won out against other more pleasurable stiffness, in the sense that they classified this most important of discoveries as merely another tool.

It turned out that this particular device was likely anything but an ordinary tool. Indeed, one might rightly claim it was the height of technological, civilisational, and intellectual advancement, precisely because it showed that us humans could use our powers of imagination and creativity for pleasure rather than violence and war. The wood of this ancient technological wonder had been shrivelled by time, and so its efficacy had been undoubtedly diminished, but at one point it was likely a gorgeous and arousing provider of the quasi-mystical ecstasies James was trying to reach.

'Would one really want to try out a two thousand year old shrunken wooden dildo?' James suddenly thought to himself. The idea of musty mould-filled splinters naturally followed and almost destroyed his mood and appetite. He re-focused on the contrasting bulbous, thick, strong, and beautifully veined member of Richard. This Dick was very much firm, full of life, in its prime, and there was not a splinter in sight. It was this sight that initially fired the delicious and dreamy anxiety in James' hungry stomach and tingling rear. It only took a moment for its inspiration to reanimate his hunger.

Yet no sooner had James cleaned away must and mould from his mind than his thoughts wandered once more. He momentarily wondered if the Greeks and Romans had filthy words that he'd not yet discovered to describe their glorious toys, or even if they had their own kinds of experimental variances and innovations in the way us moderns do. 'Did anyone invent the ancient equivalent of the rabbit dildo for women?' James wondered to himself, even as he imagined he could smell the very particular sensuous odour of Richard, his first ever Dick, right in front of him.

'You are my Richard I', James thought and almost giggled at the absurdity of the regal and majestic-tinged thought in that more earthy and grounded moment. His mind continued to wander further, though at least with his body he got on with his version of what a majestic and joyous task really looks like. James breathed a huge and full body sigh of relief as he went just a little further and properly took Richard's swelled bulbous head into his mouth. The feeling was soothing on his lips and tongue. It helped to settle his nerves some more. But it immediately also fired his imagination in another direction.

'What about for men?' James' line of thought continued as he more fully tasted that previously forbidden satisfaction. 'Might they have also enjoyed impaling themselves on an ancient version of the ultimate selfie stick? Sappho may have been substantially concerned with women, but surely we aren't so different that the use of homo-erotic toys for men never arose in some way.' Jump forward to the Italian Renaissance in Florence and even inside stories told by supposedly virtuous youth, one finds Boccaccio's humour about men who put their business in dry as opposed to wet openings.

The dryness was obvious and intentional code for gay male as opposed to heterosexual sex. In this sense James' tastes had always had a Boccaccio-esque tinge to them, even if he had never before allowed himself to savour such flavours. He was going through his own form of divine experience as his tastings began. James had grown up mostly straight but had long known that wasn't the whole story. Only now and finally in his forties was he, as it were, getting Richard I ready to Boccaccio him, though definitely with lots of modern lube.

'Surely those brilliant ancients, let alone the innovative Florentines of Boccaccio's world, worked out creative ways to moisten those lovely but dry openings?' James continued to muse to himself as he hardened whilst he warmed further to the task of pleasuring Richard. He was sure that Boccaccio was showcasing his wicked and dry sense of humour, and then almost laughed out loud once more at his own play on words. It was yet another absurd thought in the midst of kneeling devotions to his very own royal majesty.

James' ongoing distraction caused him to gag, given his lips and mouth had well and truly passed over Richard's glistening head and he was beginning to work him deeper into his mouth. He had been trying to get him further inside and down his throat far too quickly given his excitement and enthusiasm. What on earth was James thinking. This was not a conventional moment to let one's mind wander into literature, to reflect on the virtues of dildos of different ages and different points in time, or else potential ancient and early modern variations of the wonders of lube.

Yes, focussing in on the literotic elements of what was supposed to be so-called respectable literature was pleasurable, especially given he could internally poke fun at all the well-to-do prudes who self-denied some of the deliciously wicked best possibilities right in front of them. But he also needed to slow down, quieten his mind, and enjoy what was right there. That's what he told himself. He was, after all, still kneeling on the floor in front of Richard, and becoming more and more intoxicated by the experience of what they were doing together.

As James' intoxication increased so did his pace and his effectiveness. It didn't take long before Richard couldn't resist any longer, and released jet after jet of warm and delicious offering into James' hungry mouth, to then travel onwards to his grateful and previously-starved stomach. The whole experience was better than James had dared to dream. It had been fast, furious, passionate, and enormously messy. Excess did drip out of his lips and made a mess of his chin, chest, his sexy low-cut blouse, and lace-topped bra.

Having Richard's cum inside and all over him felt sticky and dirty, and that feeling was reinforced as James looked down and saw cream scattered everywhere. In short, it made James felt like a filthy, depraved, totally disinhibited cum slut. What's more he'd never enjoyed any other feeling more in his life. Having unleashed that inside of him he now wanted to go much, much further and complete a transformation. He was afraid the feeling would pass and he didn't want it to pass. He slowly and carefully cleaned up every last remaining drop of nectar from off of Richard's length, swallowing it all down even whilst leaving other remnants covered all over himself.

James was determined to keep on feeling and revelling in his filthiness. He imagined how depraved and fabulously submissive this servant of Dick would look to his majesty, and that thought drove him to go deeper into his new role. In his cum-covered and cum-filled state he re-started on Richard once more and in earnest. The first time amounted to the frantic and haphazard efforts of an enthusiastic beginner. All evidence pointed to how well he had done. But James was now determined to take things up a notch and become a cock-sucking superstar. Under James' eager and ever more confident attentions it didn't take long for Richard to be at full attention once more.

James settled and was doing well going at a slower pace, finding a more even and steady rhythm bobbing up and down. He found that if he was able to relax, enjoy the moment, open his throat, and calm his thoughts and body he was able to get Richard just a little further into his mouth and down his throat with each movement forwards. He wished Richard would hold his head gently but firmly, guide himself in, and even thrust his hips to meet his bobs. James would have said as much except his mouth was obviously already occupied. Besides, despite his majestic standing Richard was thoughtful, gentle, and kind aside from being so well endowed.

James suspected that Richard wanted to show care and even love to his faithful servant, and so was perhaps over-cautious on this first time. By contrast James started to wish for a face-fucking. For now that would have to wait. Such extra pleasures could be for more advanced play and something to look forward to. The thought of that spurred him on to earn his stripes. James was getting better at this with every bob down of his head, every lick, every insertion into his throat, and every passing second. Each time he went down he was now only an inch or so away from having that promising and firm bulbous head and shaft all the way in until his lips covered the very base. That was the goal.

James wanted to learn to open and take Richard all the way down and to please, knowing how mind-blowing the experience had been for him in the past. He wanted to be able to give that to another and to be able to submit totally to the right other for their absolute pleasure. James eased back all the way again to regroup for the next deep-throated effort, and now kissed, sucked and licked that lovely glistening head. He did so slowly and firmly at first, rolling his tongue all over so as not to miss a single spot. He was encouraged by the way Richard moved appreciatively in response.

Up so close Richard's penis seemed even bigger than its virile eight inches long. It was wide all down the length too with a head so thick that James imagined it struggling to pop inside him, past all those super-sensitive nerve endings. As much was James' idea of heaven. As his tongue came around for another pass, that promising head shifted upwards as James got the tip just underneath again and slowly licked towards the ceiling. The feeling was better than licking the very best gelato on a languid Sydney summer day.

Just like that exercise, where once you've put your warm breath and tongue onto the head you have to keep licking ever faster to get all the slowly dripping goodness before it melts away, not wanting to miss a drop of the precious thick cream even if you have to rescue it from your lips, your chin, your fingers, and even your hands and chest, so James was quickly re-taken with a similar frenzy of licking faster and with more intensity with the same kinds of epicurean thoughts in mind.

James imagined Richard looking down on him once more and that turned him on even further. His lips were covered in sumptuous deep-red coloured lipstick. So he now kissed that head in matching slow, sensuous, sumptuous style, looking up seductively as he did so in order to ensure Richard had the best view and best experience he could deliver. As much must have looked incredibly erotic from his majesty's perspective. He felt eroticism all through his body as he did it. From there he kept on using lips and tongue, circling around and around that shining ideal bulb, bathed in the feeling that the taste was a richer and more all-consuming flavour than the best ice cream.

To make things even better, instead of the creamy pleasure getting depleted and ending as the licks progressed, the licking was instead producing more to enjoy. For the future James imagined slipping a finger, or maybe even two, inside Richard's inviting rear and working on his internal spot. He didn't feel able to do that whilst he was still in training. Yet he imagined. Doing so could take things to a whole new level, as the constant drip and leak that it would promote could make this like a magical gelato which increased in creamy wonder the more attention it was given.

James' reward for all his thoughtfulness, all his focus on his partner, and all the attention he payed to giving the maximum pleasure possible kept coming. He thought he could taste more of Richard dribbling out and never wanted it to end or for the supply to be depleted. But then again he still wanted him elsewhere as well. Maybe what he really needed was two Richards at once, attending to each of them simultaneously with each of his two pairs of lips. That could also be for more advanced play and in the future. Just one Dick and learning to attend to him well would more than do for now. His thoughts raced ahead once more.

James had waited forever to be fully and properly impaled until Richard's penis was so deep and plowing into him so hard, that those gorgeous big testes were slamming against his own rear. He started to dream in earnest of having the hunger of his now-ravenous rear lips quelled. They were getting jealous of the lipstick-covered ones having all the fun. James hadn't dared to touch himself yet but he was aching and straining so hard against his g-string women's panties that he needed at least some release. He'd dressed up extra special for Richard's total and absolute pleasure but it was also for his own.

Men's underwear was often rough, poorly cut, and crushingly utilitarian to the point of a kind of dull greyness to match all the drab colours and designs it came in. James had been keenly impacted by what this made him feel like on the inside, as the opposite of the satisfaction and teaming life he felt inside of himself now. He'd spent much of a lifetime with own dreams and passions hidden and subdued. He dreamed grey, lived grey, and was far too grey. He desperately wanted to break out of crushing drabness in multiple directions.

Conventional men's undergarments represented one part of a whole network of drab and suffocating constraint. By contrast these panties were snug-fitting, they stretched a little and curved over his own erogenous parts, and they felt luxurious. Each time he moved they slid across his front and rear in a way that reverberated through the rest of his body. It made him feel erotic and fantastic with each and every step. He'd walked around all day in them and a matching bra before Richard arrived. Having them on underneath helped to re-expand his world on the inside, before sucking cock definitively and forever dispelled his spiritual suffocation.