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“I loved him madly; like an indecent liquor. My perfect pearl. My sweet darling. The throb of my heart, the song of my soul.”
1897, November - 11.
Madness in the form of love is oddly exquisite.
The tranquil cold air suffused with the perfume of rose, blended with the scent of chocolates, scented candles and burning wood [an imperial opulence of fine perfumery]. A distant carnal music in a perfect melody with the trickling sound of water [the waves, the drops, ah the tenderness of water]; the soothing music of romance and elements of nature.
Fyodor's naked body against Nikolai's in his own paradise's [room's] embellished bathroom. Head resting against Nikolai's clavicle, playing with Nikolai's wet white tresses. Admiring with his tranquil demeanour the unique colour of his valet's or rather, lover's hair. The reflection of the candle lights on the ripples of the bath water making a brilliant rippled reflection over his pale cheeks. Nikolai's fingers making smooth soothing circles around his naked thighs under the water.
The impunity Fyodor relishes, even after torturing Nikolai's throbbing heart; for he loves his orphic darling.
“They are so shameless. It's almost humiliating; their deafening stupidity. Birthday present? More like ruin such a divine and perfect day for me with an imbecile audience with premier wine, and expensive perfume of the frauen, the señoras, the signoras, the inamoratas, and et cetera. permeating from their cherished soft breasts.” spoke Fyodor with an agitated intonation. Turning his wet body over, wrapping his legs around Nikolai's clothed waist; the wet soft fabric of Nikolai's shirt. The friction making Nikolai feel hot and aroused. “Look at that.” Fyodor pointed to a polished wooden clock, ornate and crafted. Nikolai's gaze moved languorously towards the direction Fyodor pointed. The clock ticked ten minutes past ten at night.
Fyodor balancing his naked body against Nikolai's. Pressing his exposed and pretty pussy against Nikolai's growing arousal, to get the bar of chocolate Nikolai prepared before Fyodor's bath from the wooden bar along the enormous built pool.
“That clock was crafted by Sir Edward John Dent himself. It's flawless.” Fyodor pronounced, taking a bite of his chocolate. Rolling the chocolate around his hot tongue, licking his lips. He knows exactly what he is doing. Nikolai thought, wiping the chocolate melt from Fyodor's lips and licking his fingers. Admiring his dainty darling's visage.
“Don't you wish to give me a present I'd fancy, Kolya?” madly.
The clock ticked 11. Fyodor's moreish sweet perfume tickling Nikolai's nostrils.
“Undress me.” Pronounced he, with an alluring intonation. An order which Nikolai accepted, like a sacred offer. Glancing up at his patient sweetheart, sliding his gentle hands down his dainty clothed body. Rubbing his face against the delicate and soothing silk fabric of his night dress. Placing a delicate kiss against Fyodor's clothed ankle. Slipping his soft night pants down, leaving his ornate hosiery on; revealing his reddish wet private parts. Glistening under the amber light of the candles of their bedroom. His pretty folds: already wet in his sexual fluids; waiting to be devoured and relished on. A soft moan exhaling from Fyodor's parted lips as Nikolai places a soft kiss against his wet folds. Followed by a prolonged lick, tasting the buttery taste or Fyodor's wetness. I can't wait to please him.
Trailing his hands in a gentle languorous movement down the curves of Fyodor. Assimilating the texture of his angel's skin. The very touch which is maddeningly moreish and intoxicating for Fyodor. The touch of desire and delirious infatuation. Pushing him up the bed, undressing him by pulling every silk string of his night wear to reveal his sickly physique: slightly developed breasts with aroused reddish nipples— Which makes Nikolai's mouth water.
Nikolai's breath is hot and sensual against his ears, whispering, “Do you wish to be dirty right after I have washed you with such meticulous care, Dos?”
“Do you wish to miss such a perfect time when I am the one asking for pleasure?” “You surprise me. Of course not, dove.”
Rubbing his lips against the smooth texture of his darling's shoulder's skin, in the acridity of his shameless infatuation.
Shamelessly rubbing his lips against the softness of his beloved's skin. Slipping his own slender fingers inside the fabric of his darling's ornate hosiery. Sliding his wet tongue against his thighs in an indecent languorous movement; earning a pleasured sigh from his Dos darling.
Sliding up his slender fingers against Fyodor's wet folds to gently rub them in indecet circles. Making his Dos darling curl his toes, and lay back comfortably on the soft fabric of their bed.
“It isn't that my desire or my love for you has any consolidated value.” Whispered Nikolai, softly kissing Fyodor's cheeks, touching him in the most inappropriate and pleasurable styles; rubbing his wet folds delicately and indecently, earning low moans. Liar. Fyodor thinks, rolling his eyes, caressing his fool's silk tresses, his wetness growing more moist with each delicate stroke of Nikolai's warm slender fingers, “Happy birthday, Fedya.” “oh…god-” their breaths blended in a perfect blend, Nikolai's lips against his cold angel's lips, whilst his fingers curl inside his hot wetness. “So wet, and so adorable.”
Fyodor's cheeks red, chin quivering, as Nikolai rolls his tongue around his left nipple, giving soft licks whilst curling his fingers inside his warm hole. “Oh god, Nikolai— right there!” Pleasuring the same spot over and over again till Fyodor's cheeks become wet in pleasurable tears. Chin wet in his saliva, and nipples swollen and red from Nikolai's warm mouth. His tongue giving a last lick before pulling away. A wet string of saliva between Nikolai's tongue and Fyodor's nipples. “How adorable. Fedya. Do you like that? Yes?” “...yes..oh.”
The air suffused with the stench of sex and the exhilarating scent of Fyodor's floral and woody perfume. Nikolai's fingers wet in Fyodor's milky wetness. Impressed by how his beloved lover is a mess within a few moments of having his fingers curl inside his pretty hole; pleasing him, making him cum.
“How adorable, Fedya. Cumming from my fingers already?” “...shut up your lecherous man. It's your duty to pleasure your master.” “Mhm. Of course.” Nikolai chuckles, giving Fyodor's wetness a soft slap; earning a gasp and a frown.
A soft chuckle parted from Nikolai's lips. Pulling Fyodor down by his hips and spreading his legs. Pulling down his shirt, and lose trousers to reveal his arousal. The object of Fyodor's obscenities and pleasures.
Rubbing his already leaking cock against Fyodor's wet folds, groaning at the warm pleasure he already feels from the friction.
“No— I just came oh god…”
“...God, you look so pretty, taking my cock up like that, Dos.” A lew groan against Fyodor's ears. Nikolai's lips giving gentle kisses against his lover's neck. Caressing his wet cheeks. The silence of their bedroom broken by their lustful moans and sound of their skin against each other with each thrust.
“Oh please… Kolya.. in- inside. I want you inside. Please.” their lips in a perfect kiss, moaning, tasting each other's tongue whilst intertwining their hands till Fyodor runs out of breath and cries. Chin wet in their blended saliva as Nikolai admires him through his drowsy lust filled eyes.
His arousal growing hotter with each thrust, feeling his precum leaking profusely inside Fyodor's warm hole. Persuading his shameless pleasure in the wetness of his sweetheart's warm and wet cunt. Trailing soft kisses against Fyodor's clavicle. Inhaling his floral perfume. Pinching his sensitive nipples, playing with his mildly developed breasts.
“Yes? You want my semen inside you, Dos? Yeah?” Kissing and caressing his darling's wet cheeks, whispering against his ears as he rolls his hips. “Don't stop… Please. Fill me up… Please.. god.”
“How adorable. Of course. Of course, filling you up with my semen will be my pleasure, Fedya.” Their lips in a wet infatuated kiss. Fyodor's chin glistening under the amber light of the scented candles, from the wetness of their shared kiss; red lips, drowsy eyes, and skin rubbing against each other. Nikolai's gaze fixed at his orphic darling's orbs. Tongue in a wet contend, persuading the taste of each other's tongue. “You are still such a clumsy and messy kisser, Dos.” The softness of Nikolai's pronunciation of his name made Fyodor moan, rolling his eyes, his cheeks wet from his tears. “Aren't you an indecent esurient man yourself, Nikolai-” a deeper thrust, Nikolai's hot lips against his skin, kissing his clavicle whilst delicately caressing his head. “Of course, Dos.”
The stench of sex, the invigorating perfume, and the scent of tobacco. Nikolai had this secret proclivity for adoring his love's sleeping visage. The adorable face, soft cheeks, ink lashes and apple sweet lips. All his. In his sweet slumber after a gentle night of pleasures. Their clandestine affair of 7 years, since their mellow age of seventeen.
“You are truly so beautiful. My heart's throb. The song of my soul. My everything.” Nikolai whispered to himself. Caressing Fyodor's delicate cheeks, exhaling a prolonged smoke. His tongue blended with the taste of tobacco and the reminiscent of Fyodor's tongue that tasted of chocolates.
So many unspoken words. So many unconfessed emotions. How truly pathetic.