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athelstan

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Sinric carries his bundle upstairs, side by side with Athelstan. They slip through the new invisible door into the solar, it's lighthouse like windows looking out onto the bar's forest and grounds.

The Bar has read their minds and set the room up accordingly - with a long low padded bench for Athelstan to lay on while Sinric massages him. The lights are low, the glass tinted to give the room a warm, protective feel.

And a basket in the corner for Athelstan's dog and his bone.

Sinric sets up the incense the bar gave him - an eastern blend that Sinric has always found deeply soothing. He plugs his little music player into the speakers and sets it to play the soft chanting music of the Buddhist temple in the Sinese Empire.

He holds a hand out to Athelstan and draws him close, offering him a warm hug if he wants it before gesturing for him to undress.

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"Yes, he does. For both of us." He moans as a shift in angle reaches the seat of pleasure within him. "Oh!"

Athelstan too loses his words as Sinric clenches around him, moving to keep that angle of his thrusts.

"Oh! Oh Athelstan, yes." He groans, panting roughly. He leans in to kiss him again, a little roughly in his pleasure.

Athelstan has no objection to a little roughness. He pulls himself slightly up the bed, so he can prop his upper half on the pillows.

Sinric moves with him, hip hips bucking steadily. He grips Athelstan's hands a little tighter, moving a little faster.

Athelstan draws him down so they're skin to skin as far as they can be, and speeds his own movements to match Sinric's.

"Yes, beloved. Yes." Sinric moans, wrapping himself as utterly as possible in Athelstan.

His own desires are much lessened now, but Athelstan's body has its own responses no matter what feelings make their way through.

He begins to thrust back in earnest.

Sinric answers his thruststhrusts with appreciative moans, with fervent kisses. He whispers Athelstan's name, puncturing it with the Greek for beloved.

Athelstan strokes his skin, murmuring loving words in Greek in return.

Hearing his native tongue spoken so lovingly spurs Sinric's passion and he moans richly. His inner muscles flutter, although he is in no rush to hasten this to an end.

Athelstan will keep this going as long as he can, if Sinric wants it that way. He holds Sinric's gaze as they move together.

Sinric's expression softens, warm and joyous. He reaches back to cup the underside of Athelstan's stones, massaging softly. To increase Athelstan's pleasure.

Athelstan moans softly in response, and he leans in to kiss Sinric once more.

"Tell me, when you're ready." He whispers between kisses.

"I don't know", Athelstan murmurs back. "Not quite yet."

"I'm all yours." Sinric promises, stroking Athelstan's neck softly. "And this feels so good."

"I'm glad." He leans into the touch, even as he keeps thrusting into Sinric's body.

Sinric moves to nibble on Athelstan's neck, nuzzling just behind his ear as he thrusts slowly but steadily.

"Sinric", Athelstan whispers, his desire increasing at the mouth on his neck.

He nips softly, careful not to mark him further but glad to do anything that makes his moan.

One of Athelstan's hands moves to Sinric's lower back, stroking at the same time as he presses him closer.

Sinric leans into him, whispering words of love and affection between kisses and nibbles on the side of his throat.

Likewise he can keep doing this for as long as it give Athelstan pleasure.

Athelstan keeps pushing up into him, trying to bring him as much pleasure as possible while this lasts.

No fear of that. Every thrust brings a little moan to Sinric's lips, a flush to his hot skin. There's no way to mistake Sinric's reaction as anything but arousal and joy.