Page 27 of Sweet Thing

chapter 13

sorrow

Bastian teased his fingers over warmed flesh, then rested his hand on his lover’s dark skinned thigh. “Guten Morgen!“

Mattieus yawned and stretched, elongating his torso and arching his spine. He breathed out a sigh, swept crow-black curls away from his face, and opened his dark brown eyes to gaze blearily at his lover.

The morning sun sent shafts of golden light through a crack in the curtains. It was a beautiful day; the days were always beautiful when Bastian spent them with Matti.

“You do know it’s against the law to molest someone while they sleep,” Matti said in a croaky rasp.

Bastian chuckled and ducked in to claim Matti’s plump, engorged lips. He inhaled the salty, musky scent of his lover’s sleep warm body, took the kiss, and dragged his mouth down Matti’s chest; then to his abdomen, terminating at the slab of morning wood he found lying against Matti’s bronzed belly. Bastian licked the tip.

"Hmmm… Looks like you’re quite awake to me”, Bastian growled sucking the glistening head between his lips.

Matti arched his back and exclaimed an urgent curse. He submitted to the pleasure, arms falling bonelessly on the pillow above his head, his wrists displaying rope burns from last night's fun.

“I’ll never get enough of your mouth Bast,” Matti sighed, a hand absently roaming through Bastian’s blond hair. Bastian stopped sucking and glared.

“Just my mouth?” He asked, playfully affronted. Mattieus twitched a smile.

“I suppose there are… a few other attractions.”

Bastian poked a bony finger into Matti’s rib and then swallowed Matti’s length to the root. Mattieus groaned and writhed with the dualities of the pain and pleasure.

Mattieus was fully erect, and his breathy reactions were making Bastian rigid against his thigh beneath the sheets. Matti threw his left hand out blindly, groping for the small bottle of lube on the bedside table. He knocked his spectacles and phone on the floor, gasping “Scheisse“ in frustration,before his fingers latched onto the familiar shape of the bottle. Matti’s right hand was tangled in Bastian’s mane. He grabbed a handful of strawberry blond hair and roughly dragged Bastian’s head up to meet his gaze. Bastian groaned in complaint, lost in the taste of sucking his lover.

“I want to ride you!“ Matti exclaimed urgently.

Bastian grinned and compliantly rolled onto his back. They had been together for years, and so condoms were a thing of the past. He lay watching with hungry eyes as Mattieus clambered to his knees, lubed Bastian‘s cock, and then ran a slicked finger down the cleft of his own perky ass.

Bastian enjoyed the whimpers he heard from Matti as he prepared his body for penetration. The heat of desire coiled in his belly. Mattieus straddled Bastian and shimmied down to position himself over Bastian’s hips. He reached behind, gripped Bastian’s penis and pushed the head slowly between his ass cheeks. Matti threw his head back and breathed into the burning pain.

“So gutt!“ Bastian growled as Matti slowly impaled himself to the root. Bastian had loved Mattieus for five years. For five years they continued their relationship in secret to prevent Bastian’s homophobic, racist father from finding out they were more than boss and personal assistant.

Bastian ran his hands up Matti’s slender, tanned thighs and gripped onto his jutting hips. He thrust up gently, delighted at the passionate hitched gasp from his lover. Bastian moved again and saw his lover throw his head back. The image of Matti flickered, and Bastian shook his head, wondering if there was something wrong with his eyesight.

He looked again, and Simeon Duchamp purred “Oh fuck Yessss,“ in a long sensual French hiss. Simeon began to bounce up and down on Bastian’s thighs, pounding the pulsing cock deep inside. “Uh, Uh, Uh“ sounds mingled with the sound of skin slapping on skin as he rode.

Bastian’s hands gripped pale, slender twinky hips, and Simeon’s erection slapped rhythmically against his belly. Simeon rode Bastian feverishly, like it was the one and only time they would fuck. Bastian had never seen anything like it. Simeon’s movements switched from hard pounding to rolling his hips, adding sharp flicks, pulling all the way off Bastian‘s dick to then impale himself deeply with a satisfied groan. He did this repeatedly, then moved again to fevered riding.

Bastian was speechless with pleasure and amazed at the young man‘s stamina. Simeon bit his lip and arched his spine seductively, his hands roaming over his hairless, boyish chest, then teasing and pulling his silver nipple piercing. Simeon’s head was wantonly tossed back, his dark cropped hair now mussed up. The ecstasy on his face was the most beautifully erotic sight Bastian had ever seen.

The fire in Bastian’s groin was at fever pitch, swirling, volcanic. Simeon fucking was an incredible sight to behold, and Bastian knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself for much longer.

“So ein frecher junge,“ He sighed, the words making Simeon offer a filthy, toothy grin.

The pleasure was so intensely all-consuming. Simeon ducked down to take the nub of Bastian‘s left nipple between his teeth, his ass still pumping up and down with urgent abandon.

Bastian saw Matti was standing at the foot of the bed, fully clothed. His dark curls hung limply around his face, his eyes were dark and lifeless and mouth slightly parted as if trying to form a word. There was a floury hue to his Mediterranian olive skin. With the shock of seeing the love of his life watching him fuck another man, Bastian tried desperately to stop thrusting, but he was too far gone. He came hard with a cry of “Mattiiii!“ as Simeon fisted his own cock and shot his load in warm pearly threads over Bastian‘s abdomen.

****

Bastian sat up in bed, sweaty and rigid with shock. It was early morning, and the sun had not yet risen. He stared blankly around his empty dark bedroom and then at the space in the bed beside him. It hadn’t been slept in, not for over eighteen months since Matti died. Bastian pulled his knees to his chest and cradled his head in his hands as reality slammed into his chest the way it did every morning. The dual ecstasy and horror of the dream dissipated to leave Bastian with the weight of realization once again. Every morning he woke alone was like the first time he‘d heard the news. Mattieus had been in the same car as Bastian’s father, Hugo, and they died in an accident. He would never hold his beloved Matti again. Bastian wished he could sleep forever, just to spend time with his lover, and never again wake up to the devastation of that heartbreaking news.

The tears fell, warm and plentiful, down his cheeks and over his stubbled chin, as the intensity of the sex-dream faded. Bastian felt the familiar wetness of cum in his pajama bottoms. He was so ashamed of himself and his body, reacting like a horny teenager, unable to control his sexual response. It was embarrassing that he was having wet dreams, yet unable to perform the act with another man in his waking life.

The dreams had been similar since Matti died. They always started at sex with Matti who then vanished to be replaced by another man, and then his lover would appear at the bottom of the bed, silently watching as he continued helplessly having sex—unable to stop. Matti’s cold dead lips were forever parted, as if trying to say something.