rabidchild67:

Back to working on Captive Pinto:

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“What are you doing?” 

“Practicing what you taught me last night,” Chris said, pushing
the bedclothes down and grasping my morning-hardened
member. My flesh leapt at his touch, and he bent his head down, eager mouth
straining to engulf me. 

“Watch the teeth, or I will have you flogged,” I warned, my
cracking voice making the threat unconvincing. 

Merry eyes looked up at me, and he returned to his task,
attempting to put into practice that which I had shown him the night before.
Concentration on the mechanics of it was evident in his every motion, which didn’t
make him very good—not yet. But as it had been some time since anyone had paid
me such attention—Lord Nimoy was more interested in watching me solve puzzles
or read him poetry than in sexual congress with me—I found my body soon quickening to his
touch. 

“There are some men who would be flattered by that,” I said
to Chris as he choked, attempting to swallow the length of me as I had done
with him before. There were tears in his eyes and his face was reddening. “But
please do not…” I paused as he complied, increasing suction on the sensitive
head of my prick, “do not huh-hurt your… oh!” 

I flung an arm up to cover my eyes as I felt my body succumb
too soon, emptying all I had into the warmth of his inviting mouth. 

I lay there a moment, trembling from the effects and the
force of my reaction, when the gagging and coughing of my bed partner forced my attention upon him once more. “You may spit it out,” I offered. “I
will not be insulted. There you are, use the bedding, the servants will be in
soon enough.”