Page 119 of Shroom for Improvement

“Don’t watch, okay? Go count ants again.”

“Fucking hell, you woke me up to tell me not to watch? Fuck off.”

“What did it say?” Sonny asked, propped up on his elbows, his chest heaving between us.

“It seems a little grumpier than usual,” I replied. “But I don’t think it’ll pay us much attention. Can I... ?” I paused my hand over the sheets tangled around Sonny’s hips.

He nodded, and I tore them free, unwrapping him like a gift. I sat on my knees between his and simply stared at him in all his magnificence. Naked and beautiful. Pale skin and iridescent black hair. Lean, scrawny, veins tracking down his abdomen to his now fully erect cock. Fucking perfect.

I pressed my face into his stomach and breathed him in. That mossy incense scent. I would never get enough of that. I wondered if I could sneak into his rooms and see what brand of soap he used so I could rub it all over my pillows once he’d left for Remy.

“Claude,” he said . . . whimpered.

I wrapped my fingers around the base of his cock. Sonny caught my eye, his expression pleading.

“Is this okay?” I asked, my lips poised above him.

“Yes. Yes,” he said, his breath heavy, his hips rolling upwards as though the sudden desperation was too much.

I placed a delicate kiss on the head of his cock, eased his foreskin back a little, and licked away the precum beading at his slit.

“Oh, fuck,” he huffed and dropped his head back to the pillow, as I swallowed his cock all the way to the base and began sucking. He whined and writhed beneath me. I tried to memorise every sound he made, every curve and angle of his body. His hip bones, the line of hair from his belly button to his cock, the feel of the tender flesh behind his knees, everything.

I pulled off him long enough to say, “Lube.”

Sonny tossed me the bottle, and I spread some onto both of my hands, making sure the fingers on my left hand were especially well coated. Then I took him back into my mouth and drew circles around his hole with my middle finger, eventuallysinking it in and feeling the tight heat of him. I took myself in my other hand because the intensity was too much. I needed friction or I would pass out.

What I did to Sonny last night was borderline cruelty—though I heard no complaints from him—but I’d atone for it now.

I curled my finger against Sonny’s prostate and he cried out, so loud it echoed through the beams, and I shot dangerously close to finishing.

“Fuck, Claude. Holy shit, it’s too much... too good. I’m gonna... I’m so close,” he said through staccato breaths. “Can I... fuck. Can I come in your mouth?”

“Mmm,” I said, because I didn’t want to break the connection to answer him, but I wanted nothing more.

He must have taken it as a yes, because the next second his hands fisted in the sheets, his chin tilted up as he whined through his orgasm. My mouth filled with spurt after spurt of Sonny’s cum. I swallowed each one down and sucked him gently through the last of his aftershocks.

Then I rose to my knees, took his mud-stained fingers and thrust them into my mouth as I pumped my fist furiously on my cock. I swallowed down my groan, his fingers still buried in my mouth, and sprayed his naked torso with my release as he had done to me by the pool. He watched me, jaw slack, brow furrowed.

I collapsed next to him, and we lay still and silent together until our breathing returned to normal. Sonny traced lazy shapes in the mess I’d left on his chest.

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry. Let me clean you up.” I found the towel I’d used last night to cover the wet patch. In the night, it must have worked its way to the foot of the bed.

I wiped him down.

We said nothing for a few minutes. Occasionally, laughter bubbled between us like we couldn’t believe what had just happened and how good and natural and right things felt.

“I think I’m gonna jump in the shower before breakfast,” he said. He leaned over and planted the softest, gentlest, most heart-pulverising kiss on my lips. Then he hopped out of bed and I watched his flawless, naked ass disappear down the spiral staircase.

I fell back to the bed and let out a breath.

This was torture. Perfect, beautiful torture.

Below me, the grandfather clock chimed nine times, letting me know, in no uncertain terms, another hour in Sonny’s company had irretrievably passed. How many did I have left?

Eventually, I dragged myself out of bed and stripped off the sheets, replacing them with clean ones, and headed into the shower myself.

“So, now you’re in love with him?” Jenny said, as I fastened the buttons on my shirt after my shower. “And don’t bother to say you’re not. I felt the shift in your soul.”

---