The First Tryst

NOTE: THIS STORY IS AN ORIGINAL WORK, WITH ORIGINAL CHARACTERS, SETTING, ETC. NO THIEVERY ALLOWED.


Summary: Jesse is a rich bachelor living in an Alternate Universe in a time in which witches are not accepted, but burned at the stake. Simon, a young man of eighteen with the power of telekinesis, is staying at Jesse's house for his safety. At first, Jesse was just doing Simon a favor. Then, he started falling in love with the man, and now, after a kiss and numerous thoughts, he is lusting after Simon. But Simon shows no signs of seeing the lust in Jesse's gaze, so it is up to Jesse to take action.


______________________________________________________

"The First Tryst"
An original work
by lordoberon

JESSE'S POV


"Simon?"

It was dinnertime. I had just gotten back from work, and Rodney had told me he hadn't seen Simon much all day. After various adventures, hearing those words often made me afraid that Simon was gone. But it might mean he had decided to find a quiet place to read, or perhaps he was in his room. I looked there second, after the library.

A noise from the bathroom by Simon's room got my attention. Water? Was he taking a bath? He rarely did, as far as I knew, but I wasn't around all the time.

The sound of water sloshing came from behind the wooden door. I raised my hand to knock, about to call out that it was dinner. But then I thought, well, he'll come to dinner when he wants. I stood poised before the door, and my curiousity rose. What if it was only Andrew? Or what if it was someone else? A little voice in my head said, but what if it IS Simon, and he's naked?

I couldn't resist the voice. The door was slightly open, and I pushed it open-palmed. I pushed it slow enough that it didn't creak.

I summoned up an image the olive-skinned man, with his dark brooding eyes and his long, curly black hair. I had seen him angry, seen him sad, seen him thoughtful, and seen him bleed in battle. It was hard for me to imagine this man, so quiet and reserved, always swathed in that old tattered black coat, naked. It would leave him so vulnerable.

I only meant to get a glimpse of who was in the bathroom, but Holy heaven...there he was. Standing in the rise of the steam, body barely obscured. He had just stepped out, water dripping all over the tiles, and was toweling his hair with soft white cloth.

Dark skin was revealed through the steam, and when he turned slightly I could see the trail of hair from his navel down to his abdomen...I gulped. Firm buttocks shifted, muscles rippled in the light. A reddish scar reached from his right hip across the small of his back up to his shoulder blades. He had long legs, and thighs that I longed to touch. Smooth skin...I wondered if the backs of his knees were ticklish, and how ankles were suddenly appealing. He turned around, and I slunk into the shadows. Dark, heavy cock swung between those succulent thighs, long and wide, the skin softened-looking from the bathe. God, I couldn't breathe...

I walked away, and he never found out. During dinner, I could barely eat, and he beat me at fencing afterward. I was far gone, focused on the sway and jut of his hips, the way his trousers hugged his ass, and the beckoning call of black cloth over crotch. I finally went to bed early, feigning illness, and woke up in the morning soaked in sweat...and sticky, and hard. It took an hour of cold water on my body to feel normal again.

Something had to be done.

* * *

I couldn't stand it anymore, watching him, and waiting. After the time I had seen him in the bathroom, and the dreams I had had, and the memory of the kiss, and the glance...it was too much.

I stood in front of the mirror, staring into the blue gaze that looked back at me. I brushed the lint from the shoulders of my coat and the silk vest, and bent to adjust the buckles of my boots. I took a deep breath and slowly ran my fingers through my blonde hair. Then, as I put on the rings, I decided: This was it. Today was the day.

When I reached the first floor three storeys below my room, Simon was sitting on the couch in the lounge room where I usually had guests sit for drinks. He was just sitting there, relaxing, no book in sight. He had his feet propped up on the table, head lying back, hands at his sides. He opened his eyes when I straddled him, saying, "Jesse, wh-"

I kissed him, so he couldn't finish. His lips were soft, warm, and I pushed hard against them, thrusting my body against his, sliding my tongue in every crevice of his mouth until he moaned. My hand gripped his collar and my thighs squeezed against his. Finally I stopped, pulling back for breath.

Panting, Simon asked, "What...was that for?"

"It was for me," I said, "so I don't have to walk around with all these ideas in my head, fantasies, unable to play them out..."

He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then pulled me into another kiss. My hands wandered down his shirt, pressing at the skin through the cloth, sliding fingers in a gap between buttons to brush against a nipple. He gasped at the touch, groaning into the kiss, and as my fingers played with it more I could feel his body tense.

Muscles clenched and relaxed, clenched and relaxed, and his fingers roamed wildly over me. The kiss became lazy, inebriated, as the nipple stiffened under my touch. A loud moan came from Simon, and he pulled away. He lay his head back against the couch, and I unbuttoned his shirt with my free hand, pushing it away to reveal the fine torso beneath. My mouth dropped to suck the other nipple in my teeth, biting. A harder groan came from Simon, and he bucked his hips upward.

My thumb played with the nipple, rubbing it, twisting, making Simon gasp. He liked my tongue even more though, arching towards me, his hands tense at my sides. I pulled away, sitting back, sliding down his thighs to his knees. He was shaking.

Sitting up, he looked at me, and then those eyelashes drooped down. I grunted as exploring hands slapped down onto my thighs suddenly, fingers pushing at my trousers, tickling. My breath caught as a hand slid between my legs, and then upward to where I needed it. I let out a shaky breath as fingers gently, awkwardly stroked at my cock through my trousers, feeding the fire already there. Pushing against him I looked into his eyes, panting, "Why are you so...forward? You're - oh, god...young...?"

His eyes glinted mischievously. "Only in the eyes of society. By witch standards, I am well-developed, magically. And besides, you learn a lot living in the streets. Though, if I didn't find you attractive, this wouldn't work..."
I was thrusting against him, fingers sliding over his to make it push between his legs as well as mine. I could feel the hardness growing there, hot and heavy.

I smirked, teasingly. "Oh? Since when do you find me attractive?"

The hand stopped, sliding up to finger my collar. "You're not serious. Jesse...how could I not? You're sex to me...you walk around in those pants, with those legs, those hips, the shirts unbuttoned...You bring it on yourself. Try as I might to look at you with an undesiring gaze...I see you, and my mind isn't innocent anymore."

His voice was hoarse, husky with desire. He was restraining himself from grabbing me, I could see. He wanted to lean forward and touch me, hug me, but he bit his lip hard to stop himself and looked away.

I almost moaned aloud. To think that the sight of me made his mind a prostitute, corrupted him, made him unable to walk around freely and not be aroused...I was so hot, and it was suddenly so hard to breathe. My mouth went over his neck, teeth biting at the lobe of an ear. He moaned, leaning into it, arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer. I licked a soft trail down the skin...I sat on the floor now, my head by his waist.

My hands went to his belt. At the sound of the click and whoosh, Simon sat up suddenly. "Jesse, what are you doing?"

That simple action made the blood rush away from his skin to pale it, and his muscles tensed and bunched; he was ready to spring away.

I didn't want to look at him, didn't want to see the sudden innocence in his eyes, that virginal reluctance. He had been so forward before, so brave, now I looked in those eyes and saw hesitancy. Damn it all.

I threw the belt down to the floor, saying, "I thought it might need polishing." That said, I gave into the doubtful look, and flopped down to lie on the couch. He looked relieved. My head rested on his thigh, but he didn't mind. He started talking, talking to fill the awkward gap.

Sighing, I was only half-listening. He was talking about the view of the city from the top of a hill and I was thinking of the view of him naked I had once had...he was talking about hunger and I could only think of the hungry fire in my body...

Unbidden, uncontrolled, I turned my head to the right, and slid my lips over his erection. It was still going strong, hard and straining beneath his trousers. He yelped at the touch, but I ignored him, mouthing against him like I would do a French kiss. He was so hot, so hard. No limpness at all! I moaned at the sensation, scraping teeth against it through the cloth, biting down hard enough to leave red marks.

I thought he would make me stop, complain about the pain, but he didn't. In fact, he liked it, bucking hips upward and moaning. His fingers were fisted in my hair. I groaned aloud, biting more, scraping teeth, and was delighted to hear a whimper. I turned, moving to get in a more comfortable position. Who cared if my ass was up in the air, I would do anything to get better access to the delicious length encased in his pants.

Simon only rarely swore, but here I had him swearing up and down and all around, whispering profanities under his breath, twisting so I could feel more the shape and hardness of his cock. I stopped, breathing hard, lifting my face up to his.

His eyes were wide, his chest heaving. Panting, I asked, "Have you ever...done anything like this?"

Simon arched towards me. "No...I...didn't think it could feel...so good..."

I took his hand, saying, "Want to go somewhere else? Come on. I know...a better place."

He was reluctant, wanting to continue, but I grabbed him up, giving him back his belt. He buckled it, and walked like a man who only had one thing in mind. I led him through the library, past the dictionaries, to the wall. Knocking twice on a certain book opened the door; the shelf swung back to the reveal the Secret Room.

It was a shabby room, with one small flimsy cot in one corner, a sink by the foot of it. Drapes, a dark blue, hung on one wall, covering the red blood stains that smeared it. It was dank and cold and our shoes scraped dully against the cold tiles. Tiles were the only luxury of the room.

Simon sat on the bed, but then moved to make space when he realized I would have to sit on the floor. He lay down, looking apprehensive. We slid off our boots. I leaned over him, straddling that figure once again. He closed his eyes as I took lower lip between my teeth, and for a while I let my hands roam, but then they returned to his belt. This time, he let me take it off, and I flung the blasted thing to god-knew-where. I tried the zipper but it didn't work.

Eyes hooded with lust, Simon took hold of my hand, stopping it. Pushing my fingers aside he said, "No, let me do it. It jams unless you know how to move it just right."

I sighed hotly in relief. I would not be thwarted. Dark fingers slid it down with a rough jerk, and he arched his hips up, sliding trousers down and kicking them from his feet. Immediately I was aware of my own cock at the sight of his. Who knew that all those times I had seen him shirtless, he had been half-naked, bare beneath the pants? I didn't know if it was due to poverty or a strange witch custom, but I liked it. My stomach tightened and my groin flared with heat.

Hard cock jutted straight up, already wet with pre-cum, glistening with sweat, the dark trail of hair accentuating sensual hips. Thighs were open and ready for me, tensed, waiting. I bit my lip to stop a moan, and wondered how far I could go with him, how fast he would come, if he would accept my fingers and tongue just waiting to dive past tight folds of flesh...

I almost laughed, for he jumped when my tongue first touched him, my nose nudging in the dark hair as my tongue licked at the sweet soft skin of an inner thigh. His breath was shallow, fast, and his hands gripped the sheets so tight his knuckles whitened. I moaned into his skin, teething small bites into the soft flesh, growling in arousal as Simon started a series of pleading sounds.

It didn't take long before I had to do it, though. My tongue flicked over the head and then I was taking him in, sucking at the swollen head and flicking my tongue out at odd intervals. Simon thrashed on the bed, moaning, and he sounded like he had lost all breath when my tongue swirled patterns down the length, licking around the widening hilt before slicking the skin back to the tip. Hot thighs clenched at me, and then his hands were buried in my hair, pushing at me.

He gasped when I greedily sucked at the balls, moaning and thrusting inward. My cock was so heavy in my trousers I could barely move, my skin beaded with sweat. Finally I engulfed him, moaning at the quivering of his entire body, and he knew it was time to move. It felt so good to taste the salty sweetness on my tongue, to feel his cock scrape at the top of my mouth, press at my tonsils. He was loud, so loud as he fucked my mouth, holding my hair and pressing in more and more.

He came with a curse, and I drank every drop, and then lazily licked up the remnants as he lay there. I closed my eyes for a few moments, dazed, and dozed a little. I awoke to find him walking around the room, and my eyes latched hungrily upon him.

For once I saw him as a whole, as a man, instead of this beautiful boy who I only admired in pieces - the sensual sway of his hips, the curls of dark hair, the lean taper of thighs and heavy, beckoning cock. I looked at him and thought, this is a man, a man that I want.

I was so aroused, to remember what I had just done, to taste him in my mouth and see him laid out before me like a succulent dish. I sat back on my haunches, fairly quivering in my trousers, and Simon sat down beside me. He was looking away, and I stared at him. Then he looked back; I blushed to realize he saw me looking, and looked away.

Then he was leaning forward and I thought, he's going towards my chest, but suddenly his head was ensconced in my lap and his mouth was working at me through my trousers. Involuntarily my hips thrust forward, but I shouted at him, "Simon, what the fuck are you - "

His mouth wanted to devour me, oh god, tasting the sensation of my cock rigid in my trousers, the cloth sculpting around it to show its shape in detail. I moaned as his mouth wrapped around and then his head came up for air, too soon. His face was flushed, and he babbled excitedly. My eyes drifted downward to his cock - no more limp - and then back to his face. "Jesse, you're... I've seen most of the rest of you so I thought, surely it couldn't get any better, but god...you're big. Really. I have to -"

And then his mouth was down there again, and I threw my head back. Lord in heaven, to have those teeth work at me, to have that mouth on me. I didn't think I had ever been so hard as this! I forced myself to push him away, saying, "Simon, don't, what are you doing, you - you can't!"

He became indignant. "What do you mean, I can't? Who are you to say what I can and can't do? I'm not a child, you know. What is this? Don't give me that ‘holier than thou’ shit!"

I was too aroused to give any sort of retort, so I buried my face in the pillow and tangled in the sheets, willing the hardness to leave my body. Simon sat in a huff beside me, and I found out that lying on my stomach and thrusting subtly into the sheets did no good. For a little while, all was quiet. I imagined him sitting there, nude, silent, waiting. What a beautiful image.

I jumped in alarm as suddenly a body straddled my knees, and hands stroked gently at my ass. I arched up to his touch, groaning into the pillow, practically biting my fingers off, stuffed into my mouth as they were. He played with me softly, stroking my thighs and then creeping his hand down to play with my balls. I moaned, thrusting at those fingers, squeezing my thighs to hold them there. He made a soft sound in his throat, curious, and then his fingers slid away. He got off of me and I arched my hips up, breathing hard, my cock dangling in my trousers; no more against the bed, no more friction. Ice, ice, ice...

But then Simon slid under me, and his hands were on my hips, going back and forth from groping my ass to holding me up with strong hands beneath my thighs. I could feel the tickle of his long hair against my stomach, at my navel. Then suddenly that mouth was on me, grabbing at my cock like a hook grabs an evasive fish.

Fuck! I wanted to say it aloud but bit my fingers till they bled instead. I was thrusting against him, cock thrusting in his mouth, hips pushing against his cheeks, and all the while those fucking hands were pinching at my ass, brushing softly at my thighs. I was so wet I thought he could probably see a dark stain soon, even through the dark grey trousers. My lungs shook with the effort of giving me air and a whimper came from my mouth. Simon sighed breathily. Somehow that made me harder.

My body cried out for release. I needed SKIN, hot wet tongue sucking and licking me and fuck, he was so goddamn good and teasing me with that mouth, biting, licking at the hair below my navel but never past my belt. I couldn't stand the trapping cloth anymore, I couldn't hold it in, I had to be nude. Fumbling, falling a little, holding myself up with one arm I reached down and twisted the button out, trying to yank down the zipper - "Wait."

I laughed a little as Simon, instead, took the thing down with his teeth - he was kinky and I loved it - and I shoved the offending clothes away, kicking off the trousers and then twisting out of the black cloth beneath with a whispered swearword.

My cock dropped down, heavy and hard and soaking wet, to meet Simon's gaze. I wondered suddenly if I was the first man for him to see nude that he had wanted, and somehow I knew that I was. The way he breathed quietly, "Jesse...holy mother in heaven" was a clue to that and to his Catholic upbringing.

I moaned, thrusting my hips forward slightly, pleading, "Simon...please..."

That shook him from his stupor. I looked down to see his face red in a blush, but he licked his lips. The first touch of hot tongue made me jump; hot kisses went up and down my thigh, so slowly, worshipping. He kissed me open-mouthed, sensual, that tongue brushing gently against my skin.

I moaned, shaking so much, as that mouth took in the balls, sucking avidly. I was groaning in near-drunken arousal as he swirled that tongue around and around. He stopped for a breath, breathing, "Fuck...Jesse, you..."

I loved the way he said the word. Fuck. He said it like it was holy, a thing to be said on special occasions, to be worshipped with the mouth and uttered with feeling and just, god...FUCK. I wanted to take him hard and hear him scream it to the world. I wanted to get him in a church and wank him off in the pews during the sermon, and scare the choir girls with moaning from behind the cloister doors, and fuck him against a wall and kiss him in his deepest parts so that he screamed. So that he was mine, and would never forget it.

"S-Simon, ohh...oh, god..." His mouth slid over my cock. I relished the sensation of that wet heat sliding over me, tasting me, teeth testing my skin, his lips quivering around me, his tongue working to move as he slid in more and more of me.

Then he remembered I was more than cock and his fingers were at my ass again, and when he slid two fingers in I jerked forward suddenly, shouting, "Fuck!" He slid those fingers in rougher, at a different angle, and thrusted in all the way. "Oh, god...fuck fuck fuck...yes..." He bit me hard enough to bleed, and then licked it up. Those fingers stroked softly...

He was SO good at it, too good, so sensually gifted. I remembered reading in a book that witches and vampires and the like were the denizens of Hell, the minions of Satan, sent down by him to corrupt and seduce souls to wickedness...bloody hell, I thought, he could take my soul any time he wanted! Simon had a gift, even if he didn't know it, and I liked it.

We both liked it rough. He knew this, sucking as hard as he could, letting me slowly pull out and then violently shove in when it got to be too much. Finally, though, it was he that got me to climax. I looked down and watched him as he sucked, eyes closed, and then his mouth worked, and his tongue slid hotly, and those fingers pressed in again, and then I was thrusting, fucking his mouth like a wild beast, over the edge, in and out and he had thought it was over.

He thought that was it, but then when I started moving, it was too much. He couldn't hold it all in his mouth. He held me up as the orgasm passed over me, drinking the stream, and then his teeth were nibbling at the head again, and it took a few more moments, but then he scraped his teeth against the underside, and I was gone. Shaking and moaning, I thrust, and thrust, and came with a gasp. He held me up, drinking, moaning, I could feel the heat of his body against me, and then, it was over.

________________________________________________________


Author's NOTE: Thank you so much for reading! Please review! I am delighted to finally be able to share the story of Jesse and Simon with people; my young reader of the original story these characters are from is too young to read these little sexy drabbles. So, now I can post them on aff.net!

More stories about these two coming soon. :D