Extract - from Absolution

Outside all was hushed and still, each door firmly secure against the outside world, each occupant lost in private dreams. Padding down the corridor, past the sleeping boys, I hurried to his; even in this darkness I knew it and quietly tried the latch, it was unlocked. Swiftly I stepped inside unsure of what might greet my eyes or even if I would find him there. The single candle was virtually extinguished but amid the gloom all was calm, silent save for a regular breathing, he’d simply fallen asleep, in spite of his ardour. The cloth remained loosely wrapped about his waist and he wore nothing else regardless of the cold. His hair was blanketing most of his face but I knew he was restless. Groaning, he stirred slightly as his thoughts filtered through his dreams. 1

Foregoing any sense of propriety I curled myself around his sleeping body, resting my head against his chest. His nipples were soft again, their previous passion abated but I longed to taste them, wrap my lips around their acquiescence and trace him but I knew he’d wake. I would never describe John as overly thin, but in the discerning darkness his flesh faded and I could feel the sternum pushing the taut skin. It was a contour that grew dearly familiar to me, along with his salty tang and the sharpness of his woken flesh. Asleep he was beautiful, from the tumbling hair, dry now and curling softly, to the hard, firm belly and the promise that so clearly lay below. Raising my head to his I stroked his cheeks as the candle finally guttered and died, bathing me in the purity of darkness but what greeted my fingers was unexpected; John had fully shaved his beard. I had never before seen or felt him smooth cheeked, so altered, the years magically melted. He stirred once more, loosening the cloth further, but I couldn’t stop myself now, it was too late. Stealthily I opened it and slipping my hand past his spring of hair I found him, small, soft, warm but immediately hardening as I touched him. Even in sleep he knew what he was about and a slight moan broke the stillness as he shifted again, the pure smoothness of the head thrusting through the protective foreskin and dampening my questing fingers. 2

Whether it was the devil filling me with the delight of sin, I do not know, but what I did know was that I would know him as intimately as I could, even though it might be wrong, everything was wrong but I didn’t care. I knew exactly what I should do, make this man and myself happy, it fell as simple as that.3

Surprisingly he tasted soft as I explored the raw life within him, a pushing surge of energy filling both of us. Neither of us could help ourselves, nature, lust, call it what you will, was leading us along this dance now, all modesty and acceptability long since cast. John would be happy, happier, I hoped than ever before and because of me. As I continued, his narrow hips began to respond rhythmically, a stabbing inhalation finally indicating he was awake. Even though he could barely discern me in this darkness, I lifted my head and smiled up at him, a thread of his moisture uniting us. Urgent questing fingers sought my hair but I was done with that for now, pleased I had savoured him, a hot taste still smearing my lips. ‘Oh Abby,’ he groaned softly, ‘I, I’ve never known that before. Dear God, I need…’4

‘Shh, shh,’ I placed my fingers against his mouth, I didn’t require further words from him, his body was all. ‘John, hush.’5