Passing at Christmasbysr71plt©
"Pass? Did you say flatulence or something else. You were leaning over the dinner table. I can hardly think of you using that word at the dinner table."
"Well, no. I told him that you were passing."
Edwin snorted. Then he laughed.
"Should I talk to him again."
"No, Rufus, please don't. If he asks, tell him the truth as you know it. But no need to bother him with it again—unless he asks."
* * * *
They were both standing on the carpet below the bed again. Reginald was fucking his valet from behind again, but this time he was holding him close, one hand on his belly and one on a pec. Edwin wrapped an arm around Reginald's neck and pulled his mouth to Edwin's lips. Reginald was groaning and opening to the kiss. Edwin lifted his feet, one after the other and wrapped his legs around Reginald's thighs, crossing his ankles under Reginald's butt.
Edwin took over the fucking, fucking himself on Reginald's cock with the strength of his thigh muscles.
Reginald scrabbled at his gloves, ripping them off, wanting to feel the flesh of the young man's firm skin. One hand went to one of Edwin's nipples; the other to Edwin's cock.
Edwin moaned for him and sucked on his tongue. Reginald moaned right back.
They broke the kiss, but only long enough for Edwin to cough twice—little, pain-faced coughs—and to plead, "I feel so weak. It would be better on the bed. Or we could stop."
Reginald growled. He was in high heat. There would be no stopping.
"And the condom. So rough. Please, can we . . .?"
Edwin lay on his arched back, his hands gliding over the luxurious material of the bedspread, his legs raised and spread, as, knelt between his thighs, Reginald barebacked him in full fury, his lips sucking on Edwin's nipples, not being able to get enough of his new lover's sweet ass—completely oblivious to just how long they would be lovers.