Please enjoy this series of after ‘the afters.’ These slice of life stories are best enjoyed after reading the complete Pleasure Hound series. “The Shower” is a four chapter vignette staring your favorite violinist, Khial.
Jian’s body was different than Dain’s. There were no soft spots on Jian’s toned body. No scars from surgeries. No blemishes from herbal applications gone wrong.
Jian was even-toned planes of pure muscle and sinew. Each part of his body primed and sculpted for pleasure. Khial couldn’t stop touching the male. His fingers in awe of the peaks and valleys. Khial skittered along the path of Jian’s back watching the landscape of his shoulders and spine reshape and reform under his touch.
The monk had always been patient with him. The monk had always trusted in him.
Not monk. Husband. Jian was Khial’s husband.
Khial and Dain had never spoken vows. Had never needed the words between them. Dain would forever be in Khial’s heart, but he had Jian here in the flesh in his hands.
Dain had called Jian into their lives, for their wife. Would he ever have imagined that the male would become Khial’s lover, his bondmate.
All Dain’s life, he’d tried to shed light and love onto Khial. When Dain left, Chanyn took up the mantel. And now before him, leaning into the shower wall and arching his ass back like an offering, stood Jian.
It was beyond Khial’s comprehension that so many people had come into his life, offering light to someone with such darkness inside. But Khial hadn’t felt as though he were groping in the dark this last month with Chanyn and Jian. Standing in the light of their love he felt grounded. He felt a part of something whole. He felt light, as though he could float away, but the two hands holding on either side kept him rooted.
It was both scary and heady at the same time because it defied logic, it defied reason. It wasn’t real, the lightness. And if it was it couldn’t last.
Jian’s forehead rested against the tile, but Khial saw the small smile on his lush lips.
“Stop thinking. Just feel. You trust me, now trust yourself.”
Khial looked down at Jian’s ass. His hands spread over the two round globes. Jian flexed under his fingertips. Khial’s dick arrowed straight for the target. Jian’s asshole puckered like lips awaiting contact for a kiss.
Unbidden, an image of Dain arose in Khial’s mind. Dain beckoning to Khial, his pink lips pressed together, waiting.
Khial took a step back from Jian. He felt Jian shudder. Saw Jian’s ass cheeks begin to close as the male straightened. Instead of a welcoming pink hole, a shadow formed at the cleft of Jian’s ass.
Khial heard the darkness calling to him. The dark room he used to share with Dain. Once filled with light, but cold and empty now that Khial was alone. He didn’t want to go back there. He wanted warmth and light and love.
Khial stepped into Jian. His body flush up against the monk. His head bowed between Jian’s strong shoulder blades. His belly belly curving into Jian’s spine. His dick pressed into the crevice of Jian’s ass, seeking that warm welcome.
“Just breath,” Jian intoned.
They stood like that for long moments. Breathing in and out. Soon their breaths matched. They moved as though one. Jian leaned forward to give Khial access. Khial leaned back to claim entry.
Khial rubbed the tip of his dick between Jian’s ass. Those pink lips puckered once more, offering Khial an eager kiss.
“It’s been a while for me.” Jian’s voice was rough with want.
It took Khial a moment to understand his meaning. It had been awhile since Jian had been with another man.
Khial reached for oils on the table just outside the shower stall. He dabbed a generous amount on his fingertips and then began massaging Jian’s ass.
Jian closed his eyes, his head rolled back in ecstasy. For weeks, Khial had been a student under Jian’s watchful gaze. Khial could remember many moments when his own eyes closed, his own head rolled back in ecstasy while inside Chanyn. When he’d opened his eyes, Jian watched him with a grin full of pride.
Now it was Khial orchestrating Jian’s pleasure. Khial looking down at Jian with a face full of pride.
Khial took his dick and glossed Jian’s ass hole. He took a confident step forward and pushed into the man.
A deep groan emanated from Jian. His fingertips clawed at the wet tile. His head cocked to the side and his shoulders bunched. His breaths came out in little pants as he waited for Khial to push further into him.
Khial had the urge to grab Jian’s chin and claim another set of lips. To use his tongue and gloss those lips before pushing past and into Jian’s mouth.
Instead, he grabbed Jian’s hips and thrust in.
Both Khial and Jian groaned when he was fully seated. The sight of Khial’s dark dick sunken into Jian’s tanned ass nearly made him blow. The contrast was a thing of beauty, but the feel of it was beyond description. Khial closed his eyes and tried to remember every detail.
They both held still to adjust. Jian’s ass was tight. Tighter than Chanyn’s pussy could ever hope to be.
Khial retreated slowly. Jian followed him, grasping, refusing to relinquish Khial’s length. Khial grinned, tracing the planes of Jian’s back. He never imagined himself having dominion over the pleasure monk.
Khial pulled out to the tip. A shudder and needy groan trembled through Jian. Khial thrust all the way back in. Again, both males groaned on impact.
And so it went.
Khial placed his feet flush with Jian’s. He kept one hand on Jian’s hip and wrapped the other around Jian’s chest. He leaned them both back and thrust higher, harder.
Jian closed his eyes, giving himself over entirely to Khial.
For a second, Khial marveled at the absolute trust the man had in him. Jian’s head lolled back, resting against Khial’s shoulder. Khial could easily angle his head down and take Jian’s lips.
Instead, Khial wrapped the hand that was on Jian’s hip around the other man’s chest. His hand now rested against Jian’ heart. Khial closed his eyes and thrust even harder. Jian arched back into him, begging for more. Khial hadn’t realized he needed to thrust this hard, this rough. He’d spent so many nights angling for gentleness with Chanyn. The thought of her soft heat thrilled him, but he turned his focus back to the man he was currently buried deep inside.
With his eyes still closed, Khial got lost in the sound of their coupling.
Thwap, thawp, went the sound of Khial thrusting harder and harder into Jian.
Slap, slap, went the sound of Jian’s dick as it bounced up and down on his thigh.
Mixed in were the duet of each of their moans.
It was good, so good. But somehow, Khial wanted, needed more.
Jian arched back into his touch. His groans gave permission, begged for more.
Khial went faster, harder, deeper. The pace and the friction loosened something deep inside of him. Or maybe it tightened something that had long come a-loose.
Khial couldn’t determine. He didn’t want to think. Didn’t want to wonder or imagine. In this moment, he just wanted to breath and trust that everything would work out as it should.
By the Goddess, Jian not only surrounded his dick, he’d infiltrated his head. Well, so be it. Khial felt like he was flying, soaring high like a bird in the night that knows the sunlight is just over the horizon. There was no logic or reason to what he was feeling, but he went with it any way. It felt too good to pass up.
And then Khial realized, that thing on the horizon, that was his orgasm approaching.
Khial opened his eyes. He watched the muscles change planes on Jian’s back. Hills and valleys forging and falling in the light of Jian’s ecstasy. All by Khial’s hand. He felt like a god watching those shapes rise and fall.
And soon he erupted.
He pulsed into Jian letting out a guttural roar, as his body squeezed every last ounce of pleasure from his balls.
Khial wasn’t sure how long it took him to recover. When he’d gathered his wits, he realized his face rested against Jian’s chest. Jian’s strong arms were the only thing holding him up in the shower stall.
Khial straightened. He took a step back. Jian let him go, releasing him from the embrace. Khial realized his mistake. He wanted to step back into that cocoon of warmth the second he stepped outside of it. He didn’t want to go backwards any longer. Not back into the darkness. Not back to the solitude in his old room.
“I’m sorry,” Khial said.
Khial motioned southward, in the general direction of Jian’s semi hard penis. “I didn’t…”
Jian smiled, then shrugged. “Next time.”
Khial felt a stirring below in his dick. He hadn’t blown it. There would be a next time. With that thought he could go back to his bedroom and perhaps even get some sleep.
“Why don’t you go on to bed,” Jian. “I’m just going to clean up.”
Khial turned from the door. Once back in Chanyn’s bedroom, he paused. He looked at Chanyn asleep in the bed. He looked at the closed door behind him where he heard Jian running water. Between Chanyn and Jian was the door to the hall.
Khial walked past the door and to the edge of the bed where Chanyn lay. A lock of hair fell in her face.
He reached down and brushed it away.
Her eyes opened. “Where did you go?”
“I just took a shower.”
“I don’t like it when you’re gone.”
Khial climbed into the bed. He opened his arms and she came into them before he’d opened them all the way. Khial wrapped her up tight.
“I promised you,” he said. “I will never leave you again.”
He felt her sigh against his chest. “I love you, Khi.”
Khial felt the floodgates of his heart open. He felt that he was suspended in air, he sailed so high.
The door to the bathroom opened. Jian came out. When he spied them in the bed, he smiled. Khial expected the male to go to the opposite side of the bed, on the other side of Chanyn.
Jian came up beside Khial and slid under the covers. He leaned over Khial to kiss Chanyn. Then Jian’s lips landed upon Khial’s temple. They lingered for a moment. Khial wanted to turn into Jian and swap his forehead for his lips. But by the time he’d resolved to do it, Jian had nestled down at the space where Khial’s neck met his shoulders.
Jian spooned himself behind Khial. He reached over Khial’s abdomen and rested his hand on Chanyn hip.
When Khial finally closed his eyes that night, he no longer felt air beneath his feet. He felt himself firmly grounded.
Want more? Read “The Sutra” which features your favorite monk, Jian.
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