Page 17 of Hansel and Gerhardt
“Yes,” Hansel whispered, desperate to devour him, but holding himself back.
Gerhardt lifted his chin and looked him in the eye, his lips pink and parted, his breath sweet against Hansel’s skin. “Do you like this?”
His hand wrapped around Hansel’s firm dick, and, “Yes, Gerhardt,” Hansel begged.
“Faster or slower?” Gerhardt whispered against his ear.
“Faster, Gerhardt.”
Hansel’s back arched with Gerhardt’s compliant movement, the branch, real and strong, scraping against his bare skin. He was naked. Completely naked, stretching his arms out long, gripping the wood. The sun—the hot summer sun—beat down on him, Gerhardt’s hand stroked him, and Gerhardt’s naked chest pressed against his as he licked his neck. “You’re so big, Hansel.”
Hansel let out a whimper as his pleasure built.
Gerhardt, soft skin against his cheek, whispered, “You’re so strong.”
“Gerhardt…” Hansel sighed, balls tight, dick leaking, eyes closed, sinking into the splendour of his touch.
Gerhardt’s head dipped to his shoulder, placed a kiss there, his hand moving fast, his chest so lovely against Hansel’s. “You’re so brave.”
Bark beneath fingernails, every muscle taut, straining under Gerhardt’s delectable indulgence, closer, closer…
“Tell me you love me,” Hansel begged. “Just once, tell me you love me…”
From Dreams Come Forth Nightmares
Ecstasy invaded every sense, mingling Hansel’s dream with reality, a stunning, weightless, trembling blurring of the two. It was bliss, and it was bright. Bright in front of his closed eyes that fluttered on a wave of pleasure.
Then it wastoobright.
And wet.
Hot, gorgeous at first, then less warm, and before poor Hansel had opened his eyes, he knew. Not where he was, nor had he yet returned to the full horror of his predicament. He knew only that he lay somewhere, not in a dream, but in real life, next to Gerhardt, having come in his breeches.
He refused, stubbornly and for some time, to open his eyes. As though that would be the thing that woke Gerhardt, and not the noises he had undoubtedly been making in his sleep.
What horror.
What a dream.
What on earth had that been all about?
And why had it felt so nice? So good and so right, when it was so, so very wrong.
Andmore pressing than anything else,what if he’d said his namealoud?
An anxious rush of blood had Hansel wide awake, but still he lay there, listening hard for Gerhardt.
Silence.
A rustle of leaves in the wind. That noisy brook, bubbling, and… so softly, beneath it all, Gerhardt’s breath.
It came regularly, at a beat he could count, even and reliable.
He hoped…
His eyes snapped open.Dark branches, autumnal, reaching, orange, brown, yellow, and, when the breeze shifted them, the brightest, most beautiful bluebeyond it all.
He chanced a peep to his left, where Gerhardt lay, his back facing him.
