![]() "Down," Thomas orders, and Abel chokes as he's forced down on his back, the abbot gripping at the sides of both his knees and pushing them up toward his shoulders. It's some of the way there, even having only just spent, and he surges to kiss the abbot again, to kiss him as Thomas thrusts between his thighs with slow, driving movements of powerful hips. "What a gift you are, boy."Ībel shudders, his cock aching as it strains to get hard again. ![]() That's it, young man, just like that."Ībel obeys, waits for the agony, tries to imagine what exactly it will feel like - is it really, as the men say, fucking someone in the arse? Sticking your cock up there as you might a woman's cunt?īut the abbot forces his prick into the tight space between Abel's thighs instead.Ībel lets out a noise, gasping and overwhelmed at the slide of the abbot's hard cock, smeared with its own wetness, in the crease of Abel's thighs and against the underside of his prick, against his balls. He fears it, wonders if this pleasure is simply the precursor to the agony, to the abbot sticking his cock inside him and raping him, as sodomites do to men and boys and animals, but the abbot murmurs against his lips, "Press your legs together, your thighs. The abbot's cock is hard and searingly hot against his thigh. Thomas kisses him, grazes his lips over the side of his jaw, his neck, and Abel moans as Thomas grips his hair and pulls his head back, repositioning him so that he might have a better angle to kiss and nibble on his neck. He's been pecked on the cheeks by girls, even kissed on near his mouth by dockside women and once, a flower girl after he bought some violets from her for his mother - this kiss is nothing like any of those.Ībbot Thomas' lips slide against his, and then comes his tongue.Ībel lets out a reedy, helpless sound, feeling the abbot plunder his mouth - his tongue slides wet and hot against his and he cannot help the way he fidgets, restless and overwhelmed beneath the other man's weight.Ībel has gained back the weight he lost while begging and then some, but for all his frame is more plumply furnished now, he's still not a big man - the abbot covers Abel's body almost entirely with his own, and he feels eclipsed in a way that makes his spine tingle. His hands might be slightly cold, but his lips are warm indeed. He feels foolish now, silly, but Thomas laughs softly. You thought I was to devour you whole, and alive at that, and you let me proceed?"Ībel gulps audibly. Such talk is rare on ships and rarer still from Abbot Thomas, but that makes the taste of it all the sweeter. The praise makes his skin sing, make his body warm, in the way a good officer's - or boatswain's - praise had always warmed him. Now, Abbot Thomas smiles in that thin, peculiar way he has, the way that makes Abel want to please him - sometimes, Thomas calls him a good and obedient boy, or a well-behaved and diligent child, and although his manner is verbose and wordy in a way none of the officers at sea ever were with him, the praise. He doesn't tend to speak much with Abbot Thomas, except to answer his questions and do as he says. ![]() This doesn't match up with his idea - his nightmare - of sodomy. He cannot think of anything else to say, so stunned as he is - his body feels strangely vibrant, as though his body is so taken away with the bizarreness of the situation it might well throb outside of his flesh. "I thought you were going to eat me," says Abel. There is black, curling hair dusting over his chest, and like the dignified streaks of white in the abbot's head of hair, there are scattered bits of whiteness there too, making Abel think of snow on coal. He's not so thin as to appear ill or unhealthy, but it's clear he tends to thinness more than the obverse - his body is wiry in the way of a hare's, the muscle showing very plain on the parts of his body where the fat is lightest - his shoulders, his chest, his neck, his calves.
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