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    Erotique
    Erotique
    Erotique
    Ebook92 pages1 hour

    Erotique

    By Wayne Mansfield

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Laurence and Eduardo have been lovers for ten wonderful years, but in the past few months Eduardo has become distant. Still madly in love with his Brazilian hunk, Laurence tries everything he can think of to win Eduardo back. When he catches Eduardo being unfaithful with one of the young servants, Laurence’s world is turned upside down. An argument ensues and Eduardo disappears during the night.

    On his own for the first time in his life, Laurence decides to escape his memories of Eduardo by visiting Paris indefinitely. He stays at the new, opulent Hotel Regina where he meets Brenton, a fellow Brit. They visit the Moulin Rouge and afterwards, Brenton takes him to a club in the backstreets of Montmatre. Le Cul Noir is a men’s club where Laurence discovers he hasn’t been as outrageous as he previously thought.

    He grows to care for Brenton, but he’s surprised to find himself thinking more and more about Eduardo. He knows he can’t have them both, but does he try to forget all about the love of his life and stay in Paris? Or does he have to find the courage to say goodbye to Brenton and go in search of Eduardo -- a man who may be lost to him forever?
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJMS Books LLC
    Release dateAug 17, 2014
    ISBN9781611525687
    Erotique
    Author

    Wayne Mansfield

    Wayne Mansfield is a Western Australian writer. He has been writing for nine years and has been published in Australia, the United Kingdom, and the United States. Additionally, he wrote a monthly erotic story for the German publications Macho and Dreamboys for two years. His novellas and stories usually have a horror, futuristic, or fantasy theme, although he does write contemporary stories such as The Hiding Place, which received Honorable Mention in the 2013 Rainbow Awards.

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      Book preview

      Erotique - Wayne Mansfield

      6

      Chapter 1

      It’s late but sleep has not yet found me. The moonlight, like sifted icing sugar, traces the curve of my beloved’s shoulder, the mound of his bicep and the length of his forearm, where it momentarily disappears. It reappears atop his hip and sets out along his muscular thigh before disappearing into the darkness that veils the rest of his body.

      I roll over towards my darling Eduardo as he sleeps. My body is now an inch or two from his. I can smell him. It’s a manly aroma—a hint of soap, perspiration and something else, perhaps hormones secreted from the pores that cover his naked, tanned body. I inhale, deeply. His scent has my loins stirring. I touch his back, sculpted and hard, with the tips of my fingers and breathe him in once more. I’m now fully erect.

      I snuggle into him. I want him to feel my love, warm and swollen, pressing against the mounds of his lightly-haired buttocks. I thrust my pelvis slowly forwards and feel the top third of my cock disappear into the moist crevice between his gluteals. I stop. I listen and wait. Unfortunately, his only reaction to my advances is to settle further into the mattress. I roll back onto my side of the bed and stare up at the shadows that adorn the ceiling.

      My thoughts turn to times past when Eduardo and I would spend whole days in bed, our fingers and lips exploring every part of each other’s bodies. His cock would stay inside me long after it had spilled its seed and as we talked and cuddled it would grow again. I’d feel it expand inside me, stretching the skin of my anus taut; his enormous erection filling me completely. As a direct result, my cock would swell, too. I’d feel his hips gently moving against me and our lovemaking would begin afresh.

      My hand has found its way to my erection. I’m stroking it, but all the while I’m fantasising it’s Eduardo’s hand working its magic under cover of the night. I close my eyes and bring my other hand up to my chest. I take the small button of my nipple between my thumb and forefinger and gently twist it, massaging it. The sensation of that small bead of soft flesh between the hard pads of my fingertips causes me to shudder. I feel an energy course down my spine. I arch my back and release a small sigh into the darkness.

      I spread my legs slightly, just enough to be able to admit the fingers that were moments ago on my nipple. When they come into contact with the sensitive skin of my anus, I shudder again. I trace tiny circles over the small band of puckered flesh and begin to gyrate against my hand. It can’t compare to the sensation Eduardo’s cock, a thick eight inches, creates when it pushes against me in readiness to enter, but it’s all I have and judging by the welling sensation in my groin it’s enough to make do.

      Somewhere, at the edge of perception, I’m aware Eduardo has rolled over, but I’m so close to completion I can’t be distracted. My middle finger slips into my arsehole and the feeling of imminent climax intensifies. I hear myself moan as I push the finger further up to reach the hardening pebble of my prostate. When they come into contact, there’s an explosion. A shower of warm splatters rains down on my perspiring flesh. My hand continues at my cock. I want to extract every last drop. I want the wave of euphoria to continue for as long as possible. My cock has become super-sensitive. I shudder and spasm. As I lay panting as quietly as I’m able, I feel little snakes of semen slither down my torso, tickling as they run towards the cotton sheets beneath.

      Eduardo begins to snore. For once it’s a comforting sound because it means he hasn’t caught me in the act of pleasuring myself. And if he had? It might not have been such a great disaster. It may have triggered something within him. Awoken long dormant fires. I miss him, for though he’s sleeping peacefully beside me, he may as well be a million miles away.

      I lean over and kiss him on the cheek. My cock twitches. My lips linger for a few seconds before I withdraw to my side of the bed and close my eyes. If nothing else, the exertion of masturbation has brought about an overwhelming desire for sleep. I roll over so my back is towards Eduardo and fall quickly into dreams.

      * * * *

      Some hours later, daylight pours into the room through open windows. The filmy white curtains dance on an invisible breeze, which continues across the room and over my nakedness. Eduardo has already left the bed we share, gone to attend to some chore or other around the estate. It’s my estate, inherited, of course, yet I don’t do anything more taxing than instruct the servants. Eduardo, on the other hand, feels an incomprehensible need to work. His reason, he explains, is that hard physical labour is the best work out a man’s body can have. Possibly, he’s correct. Eduardo’s features are rugged. His body is stockier than mine, more solid and as hard as rock; evidence of his claim if ever there was. Fortunately, I have genes to thank for my attractive appearance, and toned, slender body. I say fortunately, because I’m allergic to exercise and feel nauseous at the mere mention of the word.

      I could weep when I think of his masculine beauty. More perfect than a Greek god in marble. And it used to be mine. His heart, his body and soul, belonged to me alone. Not a day or night went by that we didn’t make love. He never cared whether the servants were around or not. When he wanted my body, he took it.

      A knock at the door rouses me from my thoughts.

      Enter.

      Lester, my handsome valet and butler, enters. He’s naked, as is one of the conditions of employment at Hilldare Manor. To date I haven’t received a single complaint about this clause, in fact, many men who are ‘that way inclined’, as they say in polite society, seek out the manor for a position because of it. My titillation is of no consequence to any of the males in my employ when compared to the alternatives—a life of lies and the ever-present fear of discovery and of being sent to prison.

      Will you be taking breakfast in your room this morning, sir? he asks.

      He’s slender and muscular, his skin creamy and peppered with pale freckles. His cock is pendulous and hangs down heavily over equally low-hanging balls. I notice he’s neatened up his pubic area. I walk across to where he’s standing and run the palm of my hand over it.

      It looks nice like that.

      Lester’s cock begins to stir. Thank you, sir, he says. "I’m glad you

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