Greetings!

Time for some Seductive Studs and a visit to The Greek Room! If you would like to catch up or have a refresher, click here.

Fluidly, James rolled them over and, sliding along Christos, took his cock in his mouth. Christos nearly spent right then and there. Months it had been since he’d had anyone to pleasure him, and—while he wasn’t adverse to masturbation—self-abuse hardly held a candle to the sensations of lips and tongues. Particularly as when as masterfully applied as James did. A wracking groan escaped him.

Wet and hot, James’ mouth was seemingly all over him. First suckling his bollocks, then licking around his corona, then—most exciting—taking his full length into his throat. Rare was the Greek man who would suck cock—it was considered womanly, a sign of submission. Even rarer still had been one who could take him in his entirety.

Yet James had managed to bury his face into Christos’ crotch. He could hear the rasp of James’ breath through his nostrils, his mouth jammed with Christos’ manhood. He laid his hands on the dark hair, holding the young man in place as he penetrated his face. James’ throat pulsed, his lips and tongue massaging Christos, as he brought him closer and closer to climax.

As pleasurable as that release would be, Christos wanted intercourse. He wanted to feel the Englishman beneath him, to drive into that most intimate of regions.

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 Greetings, all!

Welcome to the weekend and time for some Seductive Studs! We are returning to The Greek Room, so if you need a refresher, click here.

Evans’ native pragmatism reasserted itself; he would soldier on. That dream was not the only diversion he had.

Composed again, Evans walked to the shelves and pressed a small switch, hidden within the detailed carvings. He pulled open the section of bookcase and entered the steep, narrow staircase that descended into the depths of the manor. Upon reaching the bottom, he found another switch, flooding the space with glaring white light. Evans smiled at one of his new technological toys. He’d be damned if Lord Armstrong’s was going to be the only estate in Northumberland to have electricity.

Greek pottery

Lovingly he ran his fingers across the array of items displayed throughout the room. Statuettes of ancient athletes and shunga netsuke of muscular Samurai stood alongside naked male figures from Egypt, Babylon, China, all carved of ivory and whalebone and jade. Paintings and sketches showed a variety of scenes, some from de Sade’s The 120 Days of Sodom. Framed papyri depicted every conceivable penetration of a male body by another, some singularly, others in groups. Frequently he imagined Agamemnon and himself populating those drawings. The earl’s hand strayed to his crotch and caressed a nascent erection.

Evans crossed the room to a heavy door, taking a key out of his waistcoat. From the room beyond he retrieved a large, flat envelope. London requires replenishment. He patted the envelope, recalling his pleasure at its contents. They will particularly enjoy these.

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‘Til next time!

Greetings, all!

The weekend is here, and it’s time for some Seductive Studs! We’re returning to The Greek Room, so if you would like a refresher, click here.

Robert Evans, Earl of Corbridge, stared at the doors, long after they had closed behind Christos. He marveled that the young Greek émigré had walked out of the green fields and beech copses of Northumberland and into his home. Blond and olive-skinned, the young man was clearly his father’s son; he even had Agamemnon’s emerald eyes in that face worthy of Adonis. It was as if his dreams had been made real.

Grief welled in his breast. The thought of Agamemnon weak and ill seared him. He had always treasured the thought of returning to Greece—to Agamemnon—as a palliative against the numbing boredom of his familial duty. Heartache choked him, and he sank into nostalgia.

Spartan swordsman

Memories of his Greek lover rose before him—images of him and Agamemnon entangled beneath the bleached-white canvas of an impromptu lean-to. The heat and lust drawing from their pores a cloud of musk and tangy man-sweat while kestrels screamed in the air above them. The hard flat plains of Agamemnon’s chest and belly heaving beneath him as he rode the Greek’s hard cock. All came back, as fresh and vibrant as if it had happened yesterday, and Robert lived in them for a while.

But now that escape was gone.

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‘Til next time!

Greetings, everyone!

Time for some Studs! It’s back to The Greek Room, so if you need to catch up, click here.

Christos paused to admire the lanky servant, whose fine black hair dusted smooth planes of wiry muscle, before crawling across the bed and molding his body along James’. Retaking James’ lips, his tongue coaxed its way between James’ teeth and the Englishman’s teased back. While their mouths sparred, hands glided, stroking and touching, and hips bucked with dueling cocks.

Yes_they_are | DravenSeb | deviantart.com

“You are quite thrilling—attractive as well.”

James pulled away to look up at him. “Chris! You gotta not sound so posh.”

“What do you mean?” Christos’ brows drew together.

James rolled his eyes. “’What do you mean?’” he mimicked Christos’ rounded tones. “You sound like some toff!”

“What is a ‘toff’?” He stroked a lock of hair off James’ brow.

“A toff is an upper class fancy pants.” James nipped at his hand, catching his index finger between sharp teeth, and sucked on its tip.

Christos trailed the spit-slicked finger over James’ chest. “You sounded… posh… when you answered the door.” He circled a hairy nipple, and the little nub pushed against his hand.

James’ hands coasted over his back, leaving cool fire in their wake. “That’s jus’ for appearances!”

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‘Til next time!