Date: Thu, 20 Apr 2017 08:53:24 -0400
From: Orson Cadell <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Beaux Thibodaux 13

Please see original story
(www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/) for warnings and
copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights reserved. Includes sex
between adult and young-adult men, some of them related to one another. Go
away if any of that is against your local rules. Practice safer sex than my
characters. Write if you like, but flamers end up in the nasty bits of
future stories. Donate to Nifty **TODAY** at donate.nifty.org/donate.html
to keep the cum coming.

*****

I looked over at him between shuddering gasps. He smiled slowly and said
with a voice thick with lust and seduction, "I think the next lesson was
something to do with the tongue? Maybe you should... show me?"

*****

Beaux Thibodaux 13: Seduction

By Bear Pup

If you prefer to be warned before reading a story, wanting to know what
will happen so you're not shocked or wasting your time, scroll to the
bottom. If you'd rather be surprised, read on.

*****

I moaned and my prick jumped back to attention. I was not usually quick to
recharge, but Andy knew every fucking button to push. He laid there, one
meaty arm thrown over his head, one leg cocked, fur everywhere. I
growled. There could never be any doubt of my first target.

I dove into his exposed armpit and rolled myself in that rich, pungent
musk. Andy never wore deodorant, something for which I sent a silent prayer
of thanks to heaven. I am not too proud to admit that I wallowed in his
intoxicating scent as I made love to the trimmed hair of his muscular pit.

A low moan was my signal to switch to the other side. Andy did something
here that nearly pushed me over the top yet again. His free hand pushed my
head inwards as his arm and chest flexed, locking my needy mouth in
place. That lock, the power of those muscles and the inherent dominance of
his act had me whining around my own tongue as I lapped to extracted every
molecule of sweat.

Andy had never been a tit man; he was one of the few lovers I've ever had
whose nipples were about as sensitive as his kneecaps. But his neck was
both tender and exquisitely-sensitive. I was careful never to leave a
hickey -- Andy's profession made that a serious no-no -- but licking and
lapping at his neck and ears made him sigh, a long shuddering thing that
ignited new fires inside me.

As insensitive as his nipples were, his belly button more than made up for
it. I dove in on a mission to make him squirm, and within seconds he was
writhing and laughing and trying in vain to keep me from tormenting him
with my agile tongue as he'd just done to me with his hands. His sharp,
furry abs were clinched tight when I relented and moved to my next target,
and the one against which I knew he had no defences.

Andy's feet are, like the rest of his body, small. But he had to have more
nerves in each than most people do in the entire leg, especially (and
unusually) along the top and the toes. I used both hands to lock his ankle
in place as I nibbled and teased and licked his feet, one after the
other. I could feel his dick pulsing precum against my belly, and I kept up
the assault until I won my goal. With a guttural snarl, Andy curled his
smaller frame forward and dove into my ass, and I screamed with delight.

I pushed back again and again until I was head to head with his erection
and his tongue was fucking me in a way that made me squeal. I attacked the
sensitive flesh next to his balls, making sure that my stubble occasionally
teased his glans. Andy whimpered as I switched to the other side and went
to town, I could tell what I was accomplishing as he got more and more
distracted and slowly forgot to rim my ass. I smiled. That was fiiiiiiine.

I spun off him and reversed, pushing his legs high and wide, attaching his
taint, more nibbling than licking, then his extremely tender and vulnerable
hole. He moaned and cussed like a sailor on liberty until he could take no
more.

"Fuck this!" he hollered. He had me on my back before I knew what was
happening. I pulled my knees up tight with my hands as the first slimed
finger hit me and I threw back my head. Andy was having none of it. He
grabbed his free hand behind my head and dragged me forward into a
soul-consuming kiss. I screamed into his mouth as the second finger found
his target and he first tripped my launch button.

Andy's face was buried in my neck when I whined in emptiness as the fingers
were gone. I let forth a full-throated roar, though, as his spear pierced
me, a ululation of ecstasy erupting from me as I revelled in being taken by
this fuzzy stud. His mouth was back on mine as he sunk forward, inch after
inch hunching into me, filling and fulfilling me.

Now, I built that bed. I built it specifically because I love getting
fucked hard and long. Andy, though, was an animal. Whenever he threw
himself back then drove deep into me, I'd moan or yell in joy and
pleasurepain. Even the heavy, timber frame of the bed began to complain as
he plundered my ass, hitting that spot inside me over and over and over. He
took me in every way possible for a short eternity until I screamed in
release, pouring cum in a hands-free orgasm and thus bringing Andy
closer. I worked to ensure every spasm of my ass telegraphed through his
cock, massaging, caressing, teasing, demanding. Only a few thrusts after my
own explosion Andy froze and howled as he unloaded into me.

He collapsed onto me and I held him tight, locked chest to chest and my
mouth to his as he shuddered, hunched, fucked and whimpered through his
completion. When he finally calmed enough and I felt his depleted snake
slip from my well-used and supremely-satisfied ass, I turned the kiss to
one of tender passion, moving from lips to cheeks to eyelids and more.

Andy and I would never be more than fuckbuddies. Our lifestyles simply did
not mesh, and neither did our interests and needs. Well, outside of
animalistic and fucking amazing sex. But in these moments, when he nearly
wept with pleasure after a vigorous and vocal fuck, I loved him with a deep
and abiding passion that was utterly mutual. We whispered to each other,
saying nothing and everything as we recovered.

One of the things that kept Andy interested was something he rarely got
from others. I loved the afterplay. The tickles and giggles and
strokes. The cuddling and teasing nibbles. So many guy treat it as nothing
but an attempt to start the 'next round' when in fact it is the perfect way
to transition from fuck-frenzy to a cosy, loving embrace. And I took my
time with it, drawing out his pleasure far beyond the biological eruption
of orgasm.

Andy was not a stay-the-night kind of lover, and I can't say it bothered me
at all. We finally unwound and went into my bathroom. I had a long vanity
on each side, mine to the right and the other set for guests, including
packaged toothbrushes (which I always thought was a nice touch). I had a
W/C enclosure for the commode and, of course, a urinal on the opposite
wall. The large jetted tub could almost be a hot tub, but the piece de
resistance was the shower.

Designed to easily fit four or more guys with a bench along the back wall,
the glass enclosure was completely sealed so it also doubled as a steam
room A multi-head shower was on each side, allowing two people (or two
couples) to clean up simultaneously. We used only one, though, as I
lovingly soaped and massaged Andy's entire furry little body.

He partly returned the favour, cleansing my back and ass (thoroughly and
delightfully) as I got the cum off my chest and pubes. I dried him as well,
something I loved doing and that he didn't really mind, but his hair was,
of course, his private domain. Even after a raucous fuck-fest, Andy would
emerge coiffed and perfect.

It was around two in the morning when I walked out to the garage with him
and kissed him goodnight. Beaux's room was dark and the door closed, so I
secured the house and fell deeply asleep. It was perhaps the best night's
rest I'd had recently; a luxuriant fuck always did that for me, and Andy
was a damned fine man to deliver what I needed.

I was literally whistling under my breath as I fixed breakfast the next
morning. A book a couple years earlier titled 'Real Men Don't Each Quiche'
(I did, by the way, but not this morning) turned me on to a different
breakfast option called Egg & Bacon Pie. I didn't stick to the 'manly'
version though. I thawed some frozen pie crust while I worked, richly
buttering a loaf pan, then collecting eggs, cheese and prosciutto. I
unfolded the crust and lined the pan, alternating whole eggs and the other
ingredients before sealing and crimping the top and applying a milk and egg
wash. Into the oven it went.

Beaux joined me, showered and beaming. "Oncle, I do love the way Andy did
my hair. I never thought anything about hair, me, but this is real nice!" I
smiled. He was right. Whatever magic Andy had worked on Beaux brought
everything best in his features to the fore. "And it looks like he made you
happy as well...?"

I blushed then laughed. "Yes, he did. It was a wonderful night. You didn't,
well, feel ignored or anything, did you?" I was genuinely concerned now
that I thought of it.

Beaux chuckled. "No, Kevin, quite the opposite. It was a great lesson for
true, and I was worried I would be in the way."

"No, Beaux, you'll never be 'in the way'. But I have a strong suspicion
that -- it being Saturday -- our Q&A session is likely to kill me today."
He just grinned cheekily as the timer dinged and I pulled the pie out,
using a cocktail toothpick to make sure that the whites were set. They were
close and the yolks were still thick, so I let it sit for ten minutes
before serving it.

I plated a generous chunk for Beaux and put the Crystal on the table,
knowing how well that hot sauce went with this dish. The yolks in the very
centre were bright orange and as thick as the cheese. Beaux tasted first,
then doused his generously with the hot sauce. After another few bites, he
moved to the spice rack and, by smell, found some dried basil and sprinkled
it on. I'd never thought of that and tried it -- it was incredible. Between
us, we polished off the eight-egg loaf down to the last crumbs that Beaux
chased around the pan. One of the great things on this meal was the
clean-up. One loaf pan, two plates and two forks -- nothing else.

We chatted over breakfast then got dressed and headed back to the
Nelson. Today, as promised, would be anatomy and vocabulary. I bypassed the
crowded exhibit that had been the focus on our previous foray and pulled
Beaux straight to the Classical gallery, quiet at the best of times but
nearly-deserted with the special exhibition taking so many of the prime
pieces. I found what I wanted though, a large base (presumably for a
column, altarpiece or throne) called the Aventine Triad Relief.

It was a foreshortened cube of marble about four feet high with a deep
relief carvings on all four sides. Commissioned by the dictator Postumius
just after the end of the Roman Monarchy around 495 BC, it was chock full
of naked and semi-naked men and women in all possible poses. Dedicated as
it was to Ceres, Liber and Libera, all of whom were fertility gods and
goddesses, it was not at all shy about the human form.

Conveniently, it was in the middle of the far end of the hall (Poseidon was
first and a huge Amphora with an Achilles theme took the centre). It had
museum benches on either side, ostensibly to sit facing the mosaics and
statuary placed along the walls. Beaux and I sat on the Liber Pater (The
Free Father) face of the work to start, entirely of men. In between the
infrequent interruptions of other visitors and the occasional docent, I led
Beaux through a long, explicit and fascinating tour of the words for body
parts and what to do with them.

Frankly, I was as amazed as Beaux when it came to slang and euphemistic
terms for the various body parts, and what each implied. The subtle nuances
between testicles, balls, nuts, nads, bollocks and tenders and a dozen
other terms gave us probably a quarter-hour of odd but fun discussion. As
for the progression from pee-pee to dick to ramrod, from intercourse to
making love to buttfucking -- overall the day provided the most
explicitly-sexual and least sexy discussion to that point in our
'education'.

I was surprised when Beaux's stomach loudly proclaimed that lunchtime had
arrived. We'd spent nearly three enjoyable and interesting hours at the
Aventine Triad. I decided to reward both of us, teacher and student, with a
Kansas City classic. Gates and Arthur Bryant's were already national names
by then, but it was a completely different place that was my go-to for
authentic barbeque, Jack Stack.

Down off the tragically-misnamed Blue River (should have been yucky-brown
trickle), Jack Stack was too far south, out of the way and often
overlooked, and a hell of a long drive from my house. It was also the best
original barbeque in the Midwest. I got two of my own favourites for us to
share, Jack's Best (prime beef ribs, baby backs and burnt ends) and the
Roundup (spare ribs and sliced beef, pork, ham) with a variety of sides.

Why so much? Three reasons: Beaux was a bottomless food pit; I wanted him
to have a taste of everything; and Jack Stack leftovers were almost better
than they were when fresh. Sadly, reasons one and two precluded reason
three; the only things left on the table were stick bones. I got a slab of
spare ribs to go and actually had to slap Beaux's hand more than once as we
drove home to preserve even those.

We stripped off when we hit the door. When I had secured the sack in the
fridge with explicit admonitions about no eating, touching or even smelling
of the ribs, Barry poked his head out of my room. "That you, hon?"

"Yeah, Barry. What's up?"

"Andy was here last night, I assume? Is he coming back tonight?" I blushed
scarlet and made damned sure not to look at Beaux's face.

"Um, yeah, Barry. No, I, um, I don't think he'll be back tonight. Why?" The
last word was no sooner out of my mouth than I started kicking
myself. FUCK!

"Because, hon, you two always shred the sheets." Barry stepped into full
view, bare naked as usually now that he and Beaux had, um, come to
terms. "If Andy was coming back, I'd put on plain ones instead of the kind
you like that are, let's say, more comfortable than they are durable?
Honey, really, it looks like lions were fighting in there." I had heard
Beaux snort, then start to cough, but that last bit sent him into gales of
belly-rich laughter. I half turned so I could peek with the corner of my
eye and he was clutching the counter, hooting with mirth.

"Oh, hey Beaux! I didn't see you there. When you get to the, well, advanced
lessons, hon, you need to warn me. If you're like your uncle, I need to
invest in a linens company." The laughter redoubled. "Oh, and doll, I'll be
bringing you some extra cum-rags on Monday. The two you have are stiff
enough to drive nails with, child!" Have you ever heard a belly laugh
swallowed backwards? I was debating between letting Beaux choke to death
and giving the Heimlich before he coughed back to breathing again. Barry
had already tooted his, "I'm off. See you Monday. Don't be good!" and
flounced out to his car.

I quietly handed Beaux a huge glass of water and got one for myself. When
he was more-or-less recovered, I swept him into the library and just sat,
waiting. When he finally met my eyes, we both laughed. I decided to break
the silence, "Well, at least I don't have to ask if you were following the
'at least twice a day' instruction.

"Okay, so, since I'm already blushing hard enough to bleed, where do you
want to start?"

Beaux was smiling, but also serious. "Well, Kevin, before we get to what
Barry was hinting over, can we talk about the, well, I don't know the right
word for what Andy was doing before and over dinner? I'd say seduction but
it's just a word to me."

"Actually, that is exactly what it was, Beaux. And here's what makes it
even more interesting. Seduction is usually for when you want to get
someone in the mood to make love, or at least to make love with you. Andy
had to know that he didn't need..."

"Oh, I know that, Kevin. He was doing it for me." That brought me up
short. "So the first thing I want to know -- this is from nature stories
and such -- was that him being territorial, thinking I was a rival, or
something else?"

I stared at my young and hyper-intelligent ward for a full minute, barely
blinking. "That's a damned good question, Beaux. I didn't consider the
territory thing. But thinking about it, no, that just doesn't sound like
Andy. In fact," I pulled up short. No way was I ready to get into a
discussion of three-ways. "Never mind. I think, uh, I think he might have
wanted to, well, show you how...?" Beaux nodded slowly.

"Andy is a very smart guy, Beaux. He knew you hadn't had any, um, male
figures in your life and..." I had no idea where the thought came from, but
it felt right; more than that, it felt obvious as the clues clicked
together. "And I think that, maybe, he knew you were a top and the kind of
seduction you'd learn from me might not work as well for you."

"Why?"

"Why would he do it or why would what I teach not work as well?"

"Both but start with the second question, please, Oncle."

"Have you ever caught a crawdad with a lure?" The tangential slash of the
question made him cock his head. He stared at me for a long time.

"No. No, I can't say I have. Not sure you could. And now you're gonna ask
me if I ever caught a bass with stink-bait."

I smiled. "Actually, I was going to say 'gar', but yes. As... primitive and
animalistic as it sounds, seduction is very much a hunting type of
activity. Many cultures, not just ours, refer to a sexually-aggressive
person as being 'on the hunt'. There is no 'right' way to flirt or seduce
someone, but what Andy did, as you saw, really-really worked on me."

"Yes, you never stopped blushing, but never stopped glancing at him
either. You looked a lot like a rabbit, Oncle, but -- no offense -- one
that really wanted to get et by the fox."

I laughed. "Exactly. There are certainly bottoms who aggressively pursue
tops, and tops who like to be seduced. But, true or not, it seems to me
that most b-b-bottoms like me want to be wooed, seduced, even hunted."

"How did it make you feel?" Maybe it was the masterful fuck the night
before, or the long discourse on crude slang... or maybe I was finally
growing a pair.

"I felt... bubbly. Every time I caught him looking it gave me a rush of
pleasure. To be wanted is seriously intoxicating sometimes, Beaux, and to
be wanted by someone you already know is fantastic at, well, um, pleasing
you is amazing. I could see how much he wanted me and it really had me on
edge."

"Every time you blushed, Kevin, every time you caught his eyes and turned
away, his breath caught or his eyes widened. I think you were seducing him
as well, Oncle, and I think he loved it." I did blush now, but more in
pleasure than embarrassment.

"Really?" Fuck, I hate turning into a teenaged girl.

"Yeah. He looked... hungry, I guess. Like the pasta was the appetiser and
my Oncle was the meal?" His lopsided smile made me laugh aloud.

He continued, "So, Kevin, let's talk a little about that meal, us?"

"I told you I'd never lie, but I am *so* not getting into detail here,
Beaux." He scowled. "But, yes, I'll give you the general stuff. Wow. Where
to start. After you left he stepped up the teasing and the touching, just
enough to keep me crazy. When we got to my room, he, um, well, threw me up
against the door, hard, my back kissing the wood. He kissed me, long and
deep. It was so good I almost, um..." Beaux's eyes were wide.

"Okay, this is an interesting juncture. Do you want more about what
happened next or more about passionate kisses?"

"Kisses." The reply was instant and eager.

"Ooooookay. This is one of those things that I can't explain in words,
Beaux. And unlike the jacking off, it takes two people. Knowing that it's
not leading to anything, you okay with me showing you?" He nodded like a
broken spring. I stood and pulled him to his feet. "It's best to have
something to lean against, Beaux." I tugged him to the open doorway and
leant him back into it. I moved forward and closed my eyes. I pictured
kissing another lover named Erik, a lean and muscular man a bit taller than
Beaux, but with similar build.

I leaned forward and met his lips with mine, feeling the slight jerk of
surprise. I pulled back and said, "If this gets, um, weird or anything,
Beaux, tap me on the shoulder and we'll stop, okay?" He nodded, then moved
forward to re-establish the kiss. I wrapped myself around him, an arm
around his trim waist and another behind his head and gave myself to the
kiss.

For me, kissing had always been something related to, but divorced from,
sex itself. It could be part of fore- or afterplay or even part of a
wonderful fuck, but could also be a special act in and of itself. I felt
Beaux's cock harden into my stomach and mine responded as well, but that
was... unimportant. What mattered was the kiss.

I licked his lips open and he practically squawked into my mouth as I began
to duel with his tongue, tasting and probing, making the kiss into
something so much more than just a lip-lock. I started to use my hands as
well, caressing his sides and arms and back, and felt him return mimic my
actions. I pressed in, deep and breathless, pouring every ounce of my
attention into nothing but that kiss. A thoughtless time later, I pulled
back and we both gasped.

Beaux's eyes snapped open, blazing in a glittering sapphire. He took two
deep, shuddering breathes and, well, launched into me, trapping my own body
against the opposite frame of the door. His intensity blew me away as his
hands roved and his tongue explored. I could no more stop what came next
than I could shit rainbows; I moaned deep and long. Beaux pushed back then,
hands pressing me into my side of the doorframe and him into the other,
staring and breathing hard.

"Uh, um, K-Ke, uh, Kevin. I need a break, me." He spun and dashed into the
office bathroom (which, like any bath I designed, had a shower). I slumped
against the door then moved and sat heavily in my chair, panting for
breath. My mind slowly came back on line, more like a substation than a
switch, in fits and starts -- and lots and lots of sparks and
short-circuits. Beaux was back in around five minutes and sat, frame
shaking, across from me.

"Beaux? Beaux are you okay?" He looked up and nodded, and I noted his eyes
were still an intense blue.

"Beaux, I think we went too far."

"No, K-Kevin. N-n-no. I wa-wasn't ready for anything that, that... wow. Um,
can you, uh, warn me how, uh, intense things are before we try them?"

I laughed. "I am so sorry, Beaux. First, I wasn't expecting it to have
*quite* that effect on you. Second, you are the quickest study I've ever
met. You threw me a kiss that put most men I've known to shame. Well, maybe
not Andy or Barry or, well, a couple others. But WAY above average and for
a first time? You are gonna break a lot of hearts, kid." Beaux smiled
shyly.

"Okay, so that was very much like the kiss last night. I'm guessing your
sudden emergency was to, um, relieve some pressure."

"Oh, Lordy, Kevin. I was worried I was gonna make a mess right there!"

"That's another thing, Beaux. Kissing does not necessarily turn sexy, but
it often does. For folks who are, well, really good kissers, it can get
intense enough that it takes very little, um, stimulation to cum. You were
into the kiss, and grinding against me -- No, now stop that. It was normal;
more than just normal, I should have known it would happen -- and you got
too close. One day we'll get into how to pace it, how to make it last. But
at your age, son, that just isn't gonna happen."

"So, um, people get that feeling all the time? Uh, why would anyone ever
STOP?"

I laughed hard at that. "Well, there was a lot more to come last night,
Beaux. You ready for me to go on."

"I don't know, me. Let's try, though."

"Well, Andy is a very... perceptive lover. He took your discussion of how I
was supposed to, um teach you and ran with it. Since you said the first
lesson was touching, He 'took the edge off' me, not unlike what you just
did, but with him getting me to cum. When I calmed down, he teased me to
show him what I meant by saying the next step was tongues."

I will never know why I wasn't literally in tears of horror and
self-reproach saying those things, but I wasn't. I was blushing, but more
from the memory than the talking about it.

"I licked him, well, all over. No, I won't be specific so don't bother. Oh,
other than one thing. Remmber when I said different people love different
things? Andy has a really sensitive belly button. Some guys, and Andy is
one, go wild from it. I got him extremely, well, *extremely* worked up. He
started to rim me," we'd covered that briefly in the museum, but Beaux's
eyes popped like popcorn at that, "then we had sex."

"Wait, Kevin. What was all the rest? What do you mean that *then* you had
sex?" He was shaking his head trying to make sense of it.

I sighed. "No, Beaux, you're right. When I held you and kissed you a week
ago, that was a kiss, right? Well, if that had come first and then what we
just did, I might have said, 'and then we really kissed.'" He wasn't
following. "F-Fucking is kinda the ultimate core of the word, sex,
Beaux. So what I meant, to be specific, is that Andy fucked my ass with his
c-c-cock." DAMN! I was fine right up to then. Now I was in terminal-blush
mode!

I looked up and Beaux was staring into the middle distance, nodding. "Okay,
now that makes sense. The kind of gyration it would take, like what the
dogs were doing but more, well, intense. Yeah, I can see why that might
rips sheets. Okay, now I get it. So, um, was that it?"

"Actually, Beaux, no. There are a lot of folks who think a good fuck is the
end of an evening, but it shouldn't be. We spent probably an hour
afterwards in what a lot of folks would call 'making love' although that
can also mean fucking. The better term is afterplay -- cuddling, kissing
gently, touching, being close. Making it something other than just a
fuck. Don't get me wrong, a straight-up fuck is fantastic, but done right,
afterplay turns it into something much better and much... more satisfying."

He nodded and stared off for a long time. "Um, Kevin. I don't mean to be
rude or nasty, but isn't it, um, messy to um...?"

"I promised not to lie. Yes, it can be very messy. When we get further
into... things, we'll get more specific. But yes, we took a long shower and
washed each other afterwards, sort of an extension of afterplay. When we'd
cleaned up, Andy went home."

"Why, Kevin? I was surprised he wasn't at breakfast."

"I can't explain that, Beaux. Some people, guys and gals, like to leave
quickly, probably because they feel uncomfortable in someone else's bed, or
safer in their own, or something as boring as needing to be at work in the
morning. With Andy, I don't know why, but he never sleeps over."

I looked down and noticed that Beaux was back to full hard, and already
leaking over the mental images flashing through his brain.

"So what else tonight, Beaux?"

"Well, Kevin, um, the Doc was right." My brow furrowed.

"When he said I'd have questions about male nurses?" Beaux was blushing
now.

I chuckled. "Hans. Got it. What do you want to know?"

"How, um, how do I, well, how does a guy know if a person is, um, predator
or prey? Wants to be chased or do the chasing? I really liked Hans but I
couldn't tell, me, whether he was flirting with you, me or both of us,
Kevin! How do I find out without making a fool of myself?"

I smiled sadly. "If you ever find the answer to that question, son, you
will be one of the most famous men who ever lived. You have to ask
yourself, is it worth getting laughed at or worse if you guess wrong? If
the answer is yes, you try what you hope will work. It will, or it won't,
or it might really piss off or insult the other person. A lot of people
have lost lifelong friends guessing wrong, Beaux, and it's why I keep
saying you are going to break a lot of hearts."

"What? WHY?"

"Because, Beaux, they can't guess about you, either." The look of dismay
and confusion in my young ward's face saddened me, but it also told me some
critical things. Beaux genuinely hated the thought of hurting other people;
he was, as all of us, terrified of being hurt; and most importantly, he'd
suddenly realised just how complicated and delicate the game of sex and
love could be. I left him deep in thought as I brought the Q&A session to a
close and walked him to his room. I kissed him gently on the forehead,
wished him pleasant dreams that I doubted he would have, and made my way to
bed.

<eof>

I've moved my "descriptors" to the end because, like a couple other of my
stories, this is plot-driven, not sex-driven. If you're still reading this,
it is probably for the story and the surprises, and the descriptors just
get in the way.

In this chapter:
M/T: sexuality and kissing.
M/M: foreplay, oral, anal, afterplay.

*****

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Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay...
Canvas Hell: 21 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/
Beaux Thibodaux: 13 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/
The Heathens: 13 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/
Off the Magic Carpet: 7 chapters .../military/off-the-magic-carpet/
Lake Desolation: 6 chapters .../rural/lake-desolation/
Dear John Letter: 2 chapters .../military/dear-john-letter/
Brother Bear: 1 chapter .../incest/brother-bear/