Moon Flower

Thankfully, Mr. Blackburn seemed to read his thoughts—or his deepest desires—as his inquiry cut through the tension in the room.

“What do you see in front of you, Azriel?”

“I see…” He looked Galen over, crimson stripes on his cheeks, his lower lip plump from his teeth worrying at it. “I see…a very pleasing man standing bare before me.”

“Is that all?” Mr. Blackburn smirked as Galen tried not to squirm.

“He has a pretty mouth. A nice shape.” Azriel’s voice was hoarse, and that sound, along with his perusal, made Galen’s length fill with blood. “And a lovely cock.”

Galen’s entire body prickled. Did Azriel really believe what he was saying, or was he pretending for Mr. Blackburn? Regardless, he’d never heard such words uttered about him, and it pleased Galen to no end.

“And Galen, what do you see?”

Azriel bit his lip in that insecure way as Galen was finally, finally, given permission to look his fill, and what he saw made his stomach flutter unrelentingly.

“He’s one of the most pleasing men I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Azriel’s breath caught, and their eyes met and held. After all, it wouldn’t do to avoid each other during Mr. Blackburn’s directives.

“What about him?” Mr. Blackburn prompted.

“His eyes, of course.” Galen stared into their mysterious blue-green depths before moving down the line of his throat to his chest, to his pebbled nipples. He wanted to reach out and touch each flat, brown disc but held back, uncertain if Azriel—or even Mr. Blackburn—would welcome the action.

So he redoubled his efforts, not wanting to squander this chance. There was so much to admire about Azriel, from his smooth abdomen, to his sharp hip bones, to the dark nest of coiled hair at his groin, above his stiff cock, impressive in its own right. “He is pleasing from head to foot.”

Azriel’s face burned as he dipped his head, which only made him more attractive. When Galen threw Mr. Blackburn a furtive glance, his lips were turned up in a small smile, his face dreamy, and the bulge in his trousers obvious. Right then, Galen could understand how it would be enticing to watch.

Mr. Blackburn adjusted his legs as if to give himself more room, his voice dipping lower as he said, “Galen, arrange yourself in the chair, and Azriel, on the edge of the bed, facing each other.”

The chair felt cool against his bare cheeks, but he had little time to consider it before Mr. Blackburn was directing them again. “I’d like you to show me how you pleasure yourselves.”

Galen’s gut tightened in apprehension, but he was also glad for an opportunity to blank his mind and follow the instructions, and perhaps enjoy himself in the process.

That was when he noticed the pot of oil on the table beside him. He reached for it and dipped his fingers inside before handing it to Azriel, who did the same. Galen stroked himself once, distributing the balm to his cock, before his fingers stalled, his brain as well, as if he’d never made himself spend before in the still of the night, after all his cousins were fast asleep. But here in front of these two men, he felt self-conscious, and his prick began flagging.

Until his view of Azriel made his breath hitch. He, apparently, had no qualms about gripping his cock and stroking it just the way he liked, even moaning faintly from his own ministrations. But he’d performed in front of Mr. Blackburn before—and even for Galen, if one counted the previous evening. Galen marveled at how much he liked this version of Azriel—free, uninhibited, and wholly captivating.

“Do you enjoying watching him, Galen?” Mr. Blackburn asked.

“Yes,” he said without forethought, and he heard the catch in Azriel’s throat.

“He is a pretty chap,” Mr. Blackburn agreed. “As are you. You would be striking together.”

Galen groaned from the visual, Mr. Blackburn’s words achieving their intention because Galen’s prick began stirring again.

Feeling braver, he widened his thighs to give himself plenty of room, then closed his eyes to center his thoughts. He knew exactly how to pleasure himself, and he proved it by tightening his fist, his hand gliding up and down to establish the right rhythm.

When he opened his lids and saw Azriel watching him, a thrill shot through him, and a pearl of seed escaped his slit. His thumb swiped at the tip to use it as lubricant, and Azriel’s eyes grew hooded, the purple around him increasing in intensity.

Their gazes held as they stroked themselves in unison, and it felt both arousing and surreal. Galen studied Azriel’s cock, which was long and flushed at the tip, and he wondered if the thatch of hair surrounding it would feel supple or coarse against his fingertips. As Azriel increased his pace, his bollocks dangled lower, full and ruddy.

Mr. Blackburn’s question broke Galen out of his reverie. “Would you like to touch him, Azriel?”