The Uncertain Customer (8 page)

Church panted into Wilcox’s mouth as he was thoroughly attended to in similarly eager manner. Something Aster did made him jerk and shout with surprise, his shock transferred to Wilcox by the sudden tightening of the fingers clamped around his nipples. Wilcox reared his head back to catch his breath at the devastating attack.

“Nnngg! Church, please!”

Wilcox would have felt ashamed at begging so piteously, except that he was pleading for more, not for mercy. Not one of the clandestine lovers he’d taken in his long career had ever paid any heed to those seemingly useless appendages on his chest. He would have cursed their inattention had he the mental wherewithal to do so, but he was undone. Every sensation from Church’s fingers shot directly to where Gardenia was presently paying homage. Wilcox reveled in every swell of heat from the abused nubs, finally understanding Aster’s appreciation of the small torment. He wanted more but refused to betray himself by asking for it. If Church wanted to know that particular secret, he would have to learn it for himself. They would both appreciate that journey, he had no doubt.

Applying his own recent discovery, Wilcox twisted his upper body until he could reach Church’s hip with the hand not presently holding Gardenia in place. The silky strands of Aster’s hair brushed against his fingers as he stroked them deftly over that enticing protrusion of bone that flanked Church’s groin. As he’d hoped, Church reacted immediately, his emerald eyes glazing over at the exploitation of his unforeseen vulnerability. A swell of power filled Wilcox at the expression of utter pleasure that suffused his new lover’s urbane features. With a growl, he applied himself with renewed vigor to his interrupted invasion of Church’s mouth.

Caught up in their own doings, neither man was prepared when their cocks were suddenly abandoned, the slicked flesh left to the cooling effects of the air. Wilcox looked down first, his breath rasping in his throat as he struggled to speak through his confused astonishment.

“You can’t stop now!” Church exclaimed childishly, dismay returning his own faculty for language.

Gardenia looked at the sweat-covered men splayed out before him with a self-satisfied smirk. “Oh, worry not, my lords. We would not dare leave you in such dire straits.”

“Now who’s using ‘frilly words’?” Aster mocked, the smile on his face revealing their bickering to be nothing more than the banter habitual among fast friends. He retrieved the bottle Gardenia had dropped and removed the stopper, releasing an enticing blend of sandalwood and myrrh.

“I’ve learned from the best, my dear Aster.” Gardenia blew the other boy a kiss and took the vial while capturing the hand from which he’d removed it. He poured out a generous measure of the essential oils into Aster’s hand before emptying the rest into his own cupped palm. Noticing that he was being watched, he glanced down at the puzzled men.

“What are you about, then?” Wilcox asked, having finally caught his breath only to lose it again when Gardenia wrapped a freshly oiled hand around his still-glistening cock in lieu of answering. The boy rode him easily as Wilcox bucked helplessly at the greased caress that slid determinedly up and down his flushed length. Church gripped his hand painfully as Aster did the same to him.

“You rascals are aiming to murder us,” Church said in rasping jest. Wilcox glanced over at him just in time to see his friend’s eyes roll up into his head. “Confess it!”

Aster laughed, startling Wilcox, as he’d thought the young man incapable of such a carefree utterance. “I assure you, you will survive.”

“Well, perhaps you might die a little.”

Before Wilcox could remark at Gardenia’s knowledge of the French euphemism, the boy straddled his hips. Holding the slick member in place, Gardenia lowered himself until, moaning with his own pleasure, he was impaled upon the object he had so carefully prepared. Wilcox stared in overwhelmed fascination at the flush that colored Gardenia’s cheeks as he settled himself with his lips drawn between his teeth in concentration. The smooth walls of the boy’s passage rippled against his throbbing erection, ruthlessly urging him to find his pleasure. Wilcox could not deny Gardenia’s talent. He made quite the vision with his head thrown back, his lips, pink from the abuse he’d subjected them to, shining wetly in the candlelight. With each downward stroke, he swallowed every inch of the thick rod inside of him so that the mounds of his arse bounced repeatedly against Wilcox’s thighs. Wilcox grabbed onto Gardenia’s hips to hold him briefly in place as he ruthlessly clamped down on the imminent threat from his balls that were even then contracting in readiness to empty themselves into the boy’s enticing heat.

“That’s it, little one. A little more. Yes, just relax.”

“Ahhh!”

Church’s urging and Aster’s resulting submission reached Wilcox distantly. Shaking his head to regain a sliver of clarity, he dragged his gaze away from Gardenia so he might witness the sight of the man he’d loved for fourteen years buggering someone else. But though the notion should have broken his heart, he felt only excitement as he watched Aster struggle to accept the entirety of Church’s impressive cock. When he at last found success, pleasure visibly suffused Church from the twitching muscle in his clenched jaw to the curled tension in his handsome feet.

“You know, old chap,” Church panted, his tone suspiciously earnest, “I can’t wait for you to give me a good stuffing. You’ll be my first. I’ve never allowed any other man the privilege. Will I take it as well as our lovely flowers, I wonder?”

“Bloody hell!” The curse was all Wilcox was able to utter before his body exploded at the public oration of his most secret fantasy. Blindly, he flung his passion into Gardenia’s welcoming passage.

“Ah yes!” the boy cried as he was flooded with heat, his eager, young body finding its own relief. Spurts of viscous white spouted forth from his modest cock and covered Wilcox’s chest in artistic lines and speckles before he collapsed in a heap, ruining the decoration.

Wilcox resisted the pull of sleep, which crashed down upon him with the relentlessness of a steam engine, unwilling to miss Church subjecting Aster to like treatment. All reticence lost to the throes of ecstasy, Aster keenly rode the cock buried inside of him with all the finesse of one new to the saddle. Yet, he was all the more charming for his obvious lack of experience. Church was all encouragement, whispering reassurances as the lad’s movement grew more frantic. Wilcox found his friend’s compassion for the nervous initiate touching, but it didn’t stop his spent member from twitching with interest when the wrecked flower sobbed in relief as his body spilled its pent up excitement. Church was only moments behind, the animalistic growl that rumbled in his chest making something desperate flutter in Wilcox’s belly even as his cock protested weakly at his reinvigorated lust.

Long minutes passed during which the only sound that could be heard was the sound of hitched breaths and spent gasps. Wilcox’s eyes were shut, physical and emotional fatigue pulling him ever further toward slumber, but he opened them when a large hand clasped his, entwining their fingers in an unbreakable hold. He smiled and turned to gaze contentedly at Church, tracing the beloved features he knew so well. His lover appeared also to be on the verge of sleep, with his eyes shuttered and his breathing even. But when Aster stirred from where he’d slumped against Church’s chest and slid over to the bed, Church wrapped his arm around the boy’s trim waist, arresting his progress.

“And where do you think you’re going?” he asked in a voice slurred with contentment.

“I was leaving you to sleep, my lord.” Aster glanced uncertainly at Gardenia, who was almost completely lost to slumber and had not moved from his perch atop Wilcox’s chest. His hand cupped around the gentle swell of Gardenia’s pert buttock, Wilcox was quite content to keep the boy right where he was.

Church pulled Aster back toward him until the slender figure was nestled at his side. “After having your way with me, you would leave me to sleep alone?” He sighed dramatically. “In truth, you are a heartless beauty, love.”

“Forgive me, my lord.”

Wilcox could hear the smile in Aster’s voice, and he allowed his heavy lids to shut as he relaxed into a satiated rest.

“Perhaps Wilcox and I will name our first and second born after you two,” Church mumbled, ridiculous even on the cusp of oblivion. “You lads are our guardian angels, after all.”

“Guardian Cupids…,” Gardenia mumbled. The trailing correction was immediately followed by a soft snore.

Church chucked. “Indeed you are right, of course. My mistake.”

B
LUE
-
TINTED
light filtered weakly through the heavy curtains. Wilcox blinked as it fell gently across his face, waking him from the deepest slumber he’d experienced in more years than he could reliably count. Stretching, he felt a popping in each of his joints. His muscles ached and his bones felt like liquid, but it wasn’t until his movements disturbed the slight weight resting half on top of him and half on the bed next to him that he remembered why he had every right to feel so tired. Smiling at the blond head nestled against his shoulder, Wilcox pressed his lips to the soft rat’s nest before giving his burden a nudge.

“…’ve more min….”

“I think we wore him out,” Church said quietly, his tone full of amusement at Gardenia’s incoherent request. He was gently petting Aster, who was regarding both men with sleepy hazel eyes.

That first encounter had not been their last, and all four of them had ended up in various combinations during the previous night of unrestrained passion. Only Church had escaped the demands of Wilcox’s eager prick as he preferred there be no audience when he finally expressed his desire for his new lover in full. Still, Wilcox couldn’t resist the urge to touch Church as often as he could, and he caressed the side of his friend’s cheek with gentle fingers. It was a gesture Wilcox happily saw himself bestowing for many long decades to come. “We should go,” he said after taking a few moments to bask in his lover’s smile.

“Do you have to?” Finally awake, Gardenia pushed himself up on his arms and braced them against Wilcox. He glanced out the window. “It’s early yet.”

Wilcox tapped a finger against the boy’s perky nose. “It wouldn’t do for us to be seen leaving here in the full light of day, now would it?”

“I suppose not,” Gardenia answered with a pout, his nose wrinkling adorably at the playful rap.

Wilcox forced himself from the bed with Church shortly following his lead. The next fifteen minutes were spent gathering up the various articles of clothing they had treated so carelessly the night before. Church’s white shirt was well hidden among the similarly colorless sheets, and Wilcox was almost completely dressed, though very rumpled, before he managed to locate it. Gardenia proved singularly unhelpful, constantly distracting Church with kisses and pinches to any part he could reach. Laughing helplessly at the boy’s antics, Church finally enlisted Aster in his battle for clothing, expressing his undying gratitude when Aster pulled Gardenia away to help him prepare cups of cold tea for the departing men.

“Will you come again, my lords?” he asked while they all partook of the remaining tea and biscuits they had previously ignored in favor of indulging different appetites.

Wilcox blinked at Aster in surprise. Though the boy had performed admirably, he was clearly a reluctant courtesan at best. That he was inquiring as to their return, and in a tone that bespoke his hope that it would be so, was unexpected to say the least.

“Would you like us to?” Church asked, apparently sharing Wilcox’s bemusement.

Aster nodded, shyness overcoming him if the pinking of his cheeks were any indication. Gardenia, ever the bolder of the pair, grinned through the crumbs that clung to his lips.

“You are most welcome to come back at your leisure, my lords. And we do hope you’ll ask for us again.” An uncharacteristic shadow briefly darkened Gardenia’s bright gray eyes. “Not all of our guests are as pleasant as you gentlemen.”

“Then we surely shall,” Wilcox promised, reaching out to brush away a bit of biscuit from the corner of the boy’s mouth.

Once their strength was sufficiently replenished from the evening’s athletic pursuits, Wilcox and Church took their leave of the well-named flowers. The boys sent them off with smiles and waves, remaining behind in Gardenia’s room while the men were left to find their own way back to the main hall. As Wilcox shut the door behind him, he heard something that made him pause and press his ear to the dark wood.

“What is it?” Church asked.

“Shhh.” Wilcox closed his eyes to better focus his ears. “I hear voices.”

“Well, the lads are still inside—”

“No,” Wilcox interrupted. “The voices are far deeper than either of theirs.” He listened for another minute before straightening. Shrugging, he turned back to his waiting friend. “The boys don’t seem to be in distress, so I guess everything is in order.”

Church raised an eyebrow. “It seems the Garden yet holds more surprises. Perhaps we will discover them upon our return.”

As they made their way down the staircase, they saw other gentlemen milling at the bottom just ahead of them while yet more footsteps were mounting the steps above them. It seemed that this was the general time of departure for their fellow miscreants. Wilcox noticed a few more acquaintances, at least two of whom he was amazed to learn shared his proclivities. Both were peers of the realm, and he realized he would need to make a careful study of who came and went from this place in order to keep himself and Church safe from undue scrutiny. Far from fostering any sort of brotherhood, he understood all too well that some of these men would use the knowledge of their patronage for blackmail and nefarious advancement.

“No point in borrowing trouble,” Church murmured close to Wilcox’s ear, smirking when he received a startled glance at his seeming clairvoyance.

Wilcox shook his head, reminding himself that his lover was also not to be taken lightly. He felt unaccountably reassured at having such a savvy personage supporting him.