Copyright © 2006 Ansley Vaughn
All rights reserved, Freya's Bower.
By reading this excerpt, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are younger than 18 years old, you must exit this site at once.
They washed in silence, the water still warm from the heat of the day. Thinking about that beautiful body, so close to him, was playing havoc with Guy's blood supply and soon he was fully erect. He couldn't resist turning round, just once, his hands covering the evidence of his shame, to get another glimpse of Major Changa. His gaze fell again to the magnificent penis, now half-hard and pulsing. He looked swiftly upwards, afraid of being caught staring, and his eyes met those of the major. For one long, intense moment, they looked at each other. Then Changa moved swiftly across the small space between them, grabbing Guy's wrists and forcing him back against the tiles with his hands above his head in an attitude of surrender.
Guy said nothing, but he thought it ironic that he'd escaped being blown up and shot at, only to meet his end at the hands of a homophobic African soldier who'd misunderstood a single glance.
Then Major Changa's lips were on his, his strong body pressed against him. As if on cue, the water in the tank ran out and the spray ceased.
Guy's first emotion was one of astonishment. He'd expected to be beaten, not kissed. Then he gave way to the extraordinary sensation. Kissing, to Guy, was a gentle, comforting thing you did with women, either just before you made love, or sometimes to persuade them to let you do it. This activity bore no resemblance to the feeble embraces he had experienced. The major's lips were demanding, his tongue hard and probing. It was more like a sex act in itself than a prelude to one.
Finally, Changa broke the kiss, looking into his eyes with a mixture of lust and concern. "I hope I read the signs right. Otherwise I guess I'm out of a job."
Guy was still shaking. "I'm not... I'm not gay."
"No? Well I'm not either. I'm not gay, I'm not straight. It's complicated." He put one huge forefinger on the side of Guy's face, tracing a rivulet of water down his cheek. "But you want it, don't you?"
Now it had come to it, now his fantasies were in danger of becoming real, Guy was seized with nerves and beset by all the inhibitions of a conservative past.
"I'm not... not sure."
Surprisingly, Changa laughed, a rich, deep sound. "Oh, I think you are. Look." He leaned back a little and looked down between their bodies. Two cocks, one a rich purple-black, and the other pink tinged with mauve, moved alongside each other, both now completely rigid. He moved his hips so the two organs rubbed together. Impossibly, Guy felt himself getting harder, the tension so great now, the pressure so intense that he thought he might explode.
"Well, make up your mind. Because before the night is over I intend to fuck your arse so hard you won't be able to walk tomorrow."