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I could see the darkness on his face when he returned from meeting with that Henry fellow. He’d said something to him, I knew it from within the depths of my stomach.
“Is something the matter, Dorian?” I kept my voice even, uncaring as I placed my brush back into the dollop of pink on my pallet. “You look a bit flushed.” I swallowed hard, doing my best to keep my eyes from him. He was pulling at his collar, in turn making me warm at the sight. His neck soft and pale, reddening up to his ears.
I took my brush back to the canvas and added some depth to his smile. The painting would be done in a day's time if I kept at this pace, he was easy to paint for, if I were honest. It’s not hard to draw something so lovely.
“Age is coming for me, isn’t it, Basil?” His voice was soft as he drew up behind me, his breath hot on my neck. “I will never remain as beautiful as I am now, in this moment. This painting will be all that is left of me, I fear I will have to kill myself.”
I froze at his words, my brush nearly smearing down the face I had blended and shaded with such care. “Pardon me?” My shoulders tensed and I put my brush back into the pink, fingers shaking.
“I have no worth if I am not beautiful. I couldn’t live with myself.” I scoffed his words and he pushed the painting out of the way so he could stand in front of me. His chest heaved, eyes searching my face for the fear I was very clearly showing.
I bit my lip, hoping that if I focused on his eyes long enough, my mind would drift to see if I had coloured them properly, the right mix of brown in the right, the right mix of turquoise in the left…
I moved my gaze to his throat once more, his Adam’s apple bobbing, mouth opening and closing slowly searching for the proper retort. “Why do you scoff at my worries, my friend?”
I snapped my head back up and crossed my legs. Being close to him made my body so warm it was uncomfortable to wear my cotton shirt and slacks, they clung to my skin and rode up my back. He was dangerous in this way, and yet he still had the gall to say he would one day be hideous.
“Because you, dear Dorian, are the kind of man to age like wine.” I forced myself to my feet and moved past him so I could once more get to work on his lips. “Your golden hair will go white like a pearl, your features will sharpen and you will no longer draw to you the young woman, but the mature and sure, too.” The canvas could’ve burst into flames with how hard I was staring, a thin line of sweat gathered on my lip and I nervously licked them. “Not will your eyes ever change, Dorian. A sparkle like that will only dim upon your death.”
I couldn’t bear to turn around and gaze at him. The way I spoke was like that of a woman, and if I wasn’t careful, I could be reported for coming on too strong. Men are not to speak that way to another man.
Pleasure is for man and woman alone, and instead I stand here whispering my sins, my pants bulging, sweat running down my back.
Stepping from food to foot, I once more began to place the brush into the pink paint when the pallet was thrown from my hand, smearing across the Persian rug that sat in the centre of Dorian’s sitting room.
This is it, I think, gulping down my final few gasps of air. I should never have spoken so plainly, or have overstayed my welcome in such a way when Dorian liked to keep his windows open to his garden, and in turn his servants. The rumours would spread and with them my life would be forfeit.
I searched for any words, to take back what I had said, to claw my way out of the hole I had dug when I felt his thumbs on my lips, pulling open my jaw. I exhaled, knees going weak. The shine in his eyes was like none I’d ever seen, and when he placed his lips on my own and moved his tongue down my throat, I couldn’t help but keep looking into them. My hands, once still and shocked into place down moved with haste, grasping at his clothing and hair as his lips danced in tandem with mine.
Whatever this was, what he was doing, it was explosive. He pressed hard against the back of my throat and I couldn’t help but wish that my mouth was full of his cock rather than his spit. I needed him up against the window, I needed his clothing on the floor. His fingers wove themselves into the draw strings keeping my corset vest in place and pushed the strings into slack. The fabric fell into a heap on the floor as he dragged me towards his desk. “Are you scared?”
The words struck me. I was, of course I was. I wanted his cock in my mouth and his ass in my hands and at any moment anyone could see us. But I wasn’t going to say that, I couldn’t pass up this opportunity. I wanted him, no, I needed him. Like a man needing air. I needed to be his personal cunt. “No. Are you?” Dorian shook his head, that smile of his that I had been working so hard on was now directed at me, only for me.
It was intoxicating.
I moved forwards, my knee pressing into his crotch as I snapped his shirt open, the buttons falling to the floor. My mouth was latched to the side of his neck, my teeth grazing his warm flesh. I was going to bruise every visible piece of skin. I was going to make him think of me when I wasn’t around. He was going to fuck his hand at the thought of me, he was going to seek out mirrors to look for the memory of my touch.
Dorian Gray was going to know yearning.
I pushed his shirt from his shoulders and moved further down his body. First to his collarbone, then to his chest which I took in my hands, my fingers teasing at his left nipple, my mouth sucking at this other, relishing in how he squirmed beneath me. His hands crawled over my body, looking for the buttons on my hips to undo my pants. When he found them I bit down and he moaned like no one I’d heard before. I’d be a liar to say I hadn’t seen a show or two, but none could be more erotic than that of him.
He tapped at my back to finish kicking off my pants, hands frantic and needy as he took my member in his hand and started to move. His pace was merciless, my breath getting lost in his touch, it was like I couldn’t move. His thumb moved slowly over my tip and I was sure I was done for. An odd noise rose in the back of my throat, something between begging and screaming as he massaged the tip of my cock with the palm of his hand and took my mouth back to his own, tongue dancing across my teeth.
“Fuck my mouth.” I managed to say as he broke apart for air, spit dangling between our lips in a thin thread. “Please, God. Fuck my mouth, Dorian.” That shine I had seen earlier returned and I knew now what it was: lust. Pure, simple, burning.
He just nodded in response, his lips red and puffy from their time on mine, his neck and chest done up in every shade imaginable, my bite pressed into him. It sent shivers down my spine.
I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard his belt buckle clatter against the wooden floor and I greedily got to my knees, pressing him against his desk. My own shirt was still half done, hanging from my right shoulder, my nips hard, cock erect and throbbing at the sight of him hard for me.
Precum dripped from his tip, cock twitching with anticipation. I grinned, taking his hips into my hands and licking the length, gathering his taste. He was sweeter than I could’ve ever thought. I took another long, slow tasting of him before moving my lips onto his tip, swirling my tongue around it. I couldn’t touch myself while I did this, I wanted to wait, I wanted him to fuck this arosual out of me, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t have fun in the interim.
The moans he let loose from my touch got me drunk, high and pleading. “Please.” He swallowed hard, looking down at me through long, blonde lashes. “You are driving me mad.”
I took him down to his base, his length hitting the back of my throat, not that I could bring myself to care. The feeling of him made a new wave of heat rush through my body and I moaned into it, boring crescent moons into his ass as I pumped him in and out of my lips. He panted, whining like a woman, hands clawing at his desk.
Put them in my hair, I wanted to say. Put them in my hair and fuck me like a doll. Use me up, use me like your personal whore. Fuck me like you bought me. Fuck me like you won’t bother to remeber my name.
I slowed my pace and took the time to nurse at his cock with my tongue while I let my fingers press into him. He looked at me curiously, his hips in a steady rocking motion, as I spread his ass and slipped a finger into him.
Dorian gasped, thrusting into my mouth like it was a cunt. I hummed at the feeling and curled my finger inside of him. “Fuck, Basil.” His words moved between us, so low I could hardly make them out. I twisted my finger, losing him, widening him and when he started to rock into my lips once more I added another and moved them like they were my cock. Just as fast as he had grasped at my cock, I rammed my fingers into him. He said something, I’m not sure what, for he had finally taken my hair into his hands to keep me still.
He shouted my name like it was a prayer, like he was a priest bellowing out a Hail Mary. His voice was like music, his pace brutal and unforgiving. Tears began collecting in my eyes as he hit the back of my throat over and over again, there was no time to swallow so it flowed from my lips and over my chin. He looked rabid, deranged.
I wanted more of it.
I added another finger into him and curled them, searching for the spot I had read about in texts libraries had banded. His grip on my hair tightened the quicker my fingers moved, my jaw growing tired of keeping open forcing his cock to scrape against my teeth. His eyes state that same lustful dark as he looked down at me, my own gaze one of unadulterated arousal and need. I was his hooker, and he tasted splendid.
Just as I believed he was going to cum into my mouth and I would get the satisfaction of swallowing him down, he pushed me back and laid me on the ground, my poor neglected member twitching against my stomach. I squirmed as I laid on the floor, the minor friction it provided giving little relief.
Dorian walked in front of me and knelt down, his cock still hard and red. “If I wanted, would you let me fuck you dry?” I laid there panting like a dog, all the spit that had accumulated from the pace of his fucking running down my chin. I am sure I looked pathetic, but it only seemed to excite him more. For the longer he looked, the darker his eyes became and the hungrier his cock seemed to become. I wanted it back in my mouth, I needed it back in me, some way or some how.
“I would.” I rasped. Fuck me like I’m a worthless mutt, I wanted to cry. “Make me forget my name.” The words tumbled from my lips before I could properly think them through.
“What if you beg?” He asked, raising my face to his own, my body screaming for any ounce of pleasure to once again grace it and rid me of this all encompassing, squeezing pain.
“Then I’ll beg.”
Dorian licked his lips at the sentiment and took my mouth into his mouth, slurping down the remaining spit. “And if you can’t cum anymore? What then?”
I shook my head. “I don’t care. God, Dorian. Please, please fuck me. My mouth was good, imagine how great my ass will be.” I pleaded with him, my breath hot and moist. “Come on, Dorian. Make me cum so hard I can’t walk. Fuck me hard, fuck me so hard all I’ll say is your name.”
A billion other words died on my tongue as he got back up. Please, please, please. Come on, come on, come on. I’ll be your cunt, empty out into your cunt, empty that throbbing cock out into my cunt and make me beg for more. I’ll beg for you, I’ll cum until I can’t and then I’ll cum some more. Fuck, fuck, fuck—
I gasped as he lifted my ass into the air and moved my legs apart. For a moment, he sat there, his hands gripping my ass so hard I was sure I would bruise, then he lowered his mouth to me and began to lick. I could feel him grinning into the act, taking time to make my entrance wet, tongue pressing at my asshole. His hands moved as he went until he pressed his thumb into me. “Dorian!” I was howling, he was going to make this last. He was going to make me wait.
My cock wept at the feeling of his fingers moving through me, one after another until he was satisfied. “I think I came.” I whispered, all that pent up lust becoming sensitive and needy. “Keep going.”
“I was planning on it.” The words sent a new wave of painful arousal into my cock. His index and middle finger slowly moved in and out of me, long moments passing of my moaning being the only sound in the room. He needed to touch me, to do anything, to do something. I moved myself back into his fingers, my body craving movement.
He added his ring finger. I groaned, the sound vibrating in my chest, “ah, ah, ah…” I couldn’t think anymore, I needed him in me, I needed to cum again. My shirt laid over my head as I once more tried to rock into him. ”Would you wait this long to fuck a woman’s cunt?” My voice was trembling, laced with a desire I couldn’t put my finger on.
“Never fucked a cunt.” He paused, “nor have I fucked an ass, Basil. Have you?”
I groaned into the carpet, his fingers working glorious magic against my erection. “Never.” I grasped at the rug again in a futile attempt to get my thoughts in order, “I’ve just wanted you to fuck mine.”
At that, Dorian removes himself from me, a cruel act. I wonder if I had said too much, if he just wanted something to stick his prick in. My hands make disappointed, yet angry, fists in the rug when he leans over me. His chest is covered in a thin layer of sweat and his cock, still coated in my spit, ribs up against my asshole. Dorian grinds into me, hands going under my arms and grabbing my shoulders, pulling me up right. I can feel him looking over me as he fucks the air between him and my ass. My neglected cock continues to weep.
“You said you would cum for me, Basil.” My mouth falls open so I can take deeper breaths. He takes my shirt off the rest of the way, tossing it to the side, then one of his hands glides over my chest, rubbing my hardened nipples as he gets closer to my member. He keeps rubbing himself against me and I feel like exploding. “Are you going to do that for me? Do that for me now?”
I whimper as he grabs at my inner thigh sending shock wave after shock wave into my trembling cock. He rubs circles as his hands get tantalizingly close to me, his long, slender fingers lightly touching my shaft. Not enough to mean anything, but enough that he laughs into my shoulder. “Such a pretty little dick.” He whispers, kissing my ear and my jaw. “Such a nice little dick, just for me.” He playfully brushes my tip with his index, his knees keeping me up right and he keeps his cock happy between my ass cheeks. “If I took it into my hand right now, would you cum on my floor?”
He licked my neck and a bead of cum came forth, one he wiped away with his thumb and then licked off. “Come on, Basil. You said you already came once—” he roughly humped me, his nails digging into my legs, dragging me closer to his own member, still slick, now moving fast under me, I could see it between my own, swollen and red. “—cum for me again. Then I’ll fuck you.” He took me into his hand and moved with his own cock, humping me like a dog in heat. “Cum for me, Basil. Be a good boy for me.”
I threw my head onto his shoulder as he pressed his lips onto my own, I shook, back arched, as my cum sprayed across the room. My body sat hot and heavy in his lap, my cock flaccid in his grip. “Good boy.” He kept stroking it as he leaned me back over, kissing his way down my back. My jaw hung slack as I mumbled words that made little sense, my moans rushed and high, coming quick and then being cut off. My body buzzed, every touch lit me aflame, my cock seeming even more eager than it had been originally though it limply hung between my legs, Dorian’s thumb gently stroking its length. “You ready for your prize, Basil?”
I nodded my head eagerly, “please.”
He pressed into me slowly, his member bigger than I had thought I’d been while in my mouth. I shouted his name as he squeezed my cock in his hand, the other scratching into my back and he pushed himself to his base. “You feel amazing, Basil.” His voice was breathy, his cock warm inside me as he moved in circles to savour it. “So much better than any cunt.” His words brought heat back into my cock as he squeezed harder on my erection. “I can’t wait to see you cum again, that dick of yours looks so lovely when it cums.”
The hand he had pressing into my back moved towards my head, then put the fingers into my mouth, pulling me back up so I would sit on him as he rammed into me. He showed no mercy, his balls slapping into my ass with loud, wet claps, his hand not slowly either has he fucked both parts of me. “Cry for me, Basil. Say my name, let it fall from those soft lips while that pretty dick leaks.” I attempted to speak with his hand in my mouth. “I know you want me. I love hearing your voice, say my name, say my name. Oh, you’re gorgeous. You’re so pretty, Basil.”
His pace quickened and his hand moved to wrap around my neck. My tongue free once more, I whined his name like I was calling upon God to give me water in the desert. “So pretty, look at you.” His hand lowered again, caressing my chest and making good work of my nipples. “Just for me, all just for me. All this cum is mine, Basil. Your pretty little dick can only fuck my hand, okay?” I moaned, jerking my hips into his hand, cum coming up from my tip, dripping down his knuckles. The time was escaping me, what day it exited my mind. I just wanted him to keep going, I could stay like this forever, I was sure of it.
“You’re so nice, so good for me. You feel so good. Jesus, Basil. Can you cum for me again?” He begged, mouth up against my ear as he pinched my nipple, twisting it between his index and thumb. “I love seeing you cum with that pretty little dick. I’ve fucked you nice and good, haven’t I? Cum again, Basil. Cum again.”
He began to suck on my neck, other words spilling from his tongue as he painted circles into my skin. The feeling of him inside me, on me, against me was overwhelming. I couldn’t muster anything but a few pleasurable grunts as I fucked him harder and harder. I didn’t want me to ever crave another ass after this. My dick was the only one he’d want, I was his cunt and he was going to remember that. The pressure in my thighs released against his hand and he grinned, pushing me onto the floor with my ass up. He took his hand from my limp cock and grabbed my waist. “There’s a good boy. Such a good boy.” He rammed into me with every syllable, his stomach and balls slapping my ass leaving red marks. He took his hands and licked between his fingers. “You taste so good. That dick if yours is so good, Basil. You need to put it in me. God, next time I need you to press me up against my window and put that nice dick of yours so far up my ass I can’t breathe.” His grip on my waist bruised me as he used me as an anchor to pull into him each time he pushed back in. Always to his base, always fast and hard.
I called out his name and he pulled my ass closer and closer to fuck, his cock hard in me showing no signs of cumming. “So pretty, Basil. Your ass is so nice, taking me so good. You’re so warm, Basil. You like me in you? You like me fucking you hard?”
“Yes, yes!” I clawed at the carpet, I could feel another orgasm growing in my gut though my cock remained flaccid between my shaking legs. “I love being your cunt, Dorian. I’m your whore, I’m your pretty little dick.”
He curled around me, his thrusts quicker but smaller, movements impatient and imprecise. “You want me to cum in you? You want my cum, Basil?”
I banged my hand into the floor. “Please. Dorian, Dorian, you fuck so good. Cum in me, you fucked me so nice.”
Frantic, he squeezed my cock again, what cum I had left over squirting out of it as he poured into my ass, the cum leaking out around his cock as he slowed the pace down and then pulled out of me. Panting, he threw himself onto his back, myself quickly following suit. “Do you really want there to be a next time, Dorian?” I was still catching my breath as I spoke, my eyes examining his body. I had left many a mark on him and the sight of his cock dripping, still wet with his own cum, filled me with a beautiful satisfaction.
“Of course.” Dorian put one arm across his stomach and another went in search of my own. When he found it, he locked our fingers together and pulled me close. “Basil, I mean it when I say I’ve never met someone like you. I would be stoned for the crime of sodomy if you would let me keep you.” I blushed at his confession, pressing my forehead onto his. “What do you say I draw us a bath and you stay the night?” He looked at me through his eyelashes, that wonderful, playful shine in his eye. “No fucking, we can just lay in my bed.”
I smiled, “that sounds lovely.”
The next morning, I awoke to the sound of ripping fabric. I pulled on one of Dorian’s house coats, careful to stay hidden from any staff. He’d said he’d sent them home when I came over to paint him anyhow, but it was the next day and I wasn’t sure what time it was, nor what time they would be arriving.
“What are you doing?!” I stopped in my tracks at the bottom of his staircase, Dorian was standing before my painting tearing holes in it with my pallet knife. “You paid for that!”
He just laughed and put the pallet knife on the easel. “Well, I figured neither of us needed a painting of me. I mean, if I get to keep waking up next to you, that’s art in it of itself. Isn’t it?”
With that, I ran to him.