An erotic parody of "The Picture of Dorian Gray." In Victorian London, a proper Englishman has a problem - his lover is always horny. When he demands to know how Dorian keeps it up every minute of every day, he gets a little more than he bargained for. Does Dorian's libido have a rational explanation, or is there something supernatural at work between his legs?
Contains oral sex, anal play, anal sex, and some Victorian sex slang.
hands pulled my wet coat down my arms. Carelessly, he let it fall to the floor.
In any other circumstances I would have found this rude, but right now I didn't
give a damn. The hot blood in my groin beat like a drum. I needed a good fuck
this morning. I needed Dorian's body against mine, decorum be damned.
pushed me against the wall, his lips still devouring mine. His hands took to my
shirt now, toying with the buttons. As he pressed himself to me, I could feel
his hard cock straining against the fabric of his trousers. Though I was
painfully randy, the walk had beaten my erection down a little, but Dorian's
prick was at the ready as always. The steely rod of flesh ground against my
thigh. The feel of it rubbing my leg was enough to make me moan.
was the broader of the two of us, but Dorian was far more sexually aggressive.
With me pinned firmly to the wall, he worked his hips in between my legs,
forcing me to part my thighs for him. He pushed his groin so hard onto me that
my feet left the floor. His restrained erection grazed my own as he moved
against me. His hands traveled down to cup my buttocks. Gripping me hard, he
held me up so that his gyrating hips thrust his cock past my own, teasing the
tender flesh that separated it from my entrance. The only thing keeping him
from penetrating me right now was our trousers.
interesting...greeting," I panted, tearing away from his lips.
chuckled and continued humping me. I was fully erect now, and my trousers had
never felt thicker. They had become a prison for my cock and balls, squeezing
them so tightly that there was no pleasure in the friction of our bodies moving
against each other. Supported by Dorian's weight and hands, I began to unfasten
smacked my hands away.
the hell was that for?" I cried, standing on my own two feet as my lover
stepped back from me.
grinned. "Punishment for your impatience. I feel like teasing you today."
how am I supposed to benefit from that?" A perturbed heat rose in my face.
Already I could feel the pressure of my clothes threatening my erection. Anger
overtook my lust. "Not all of us blessed with your gifts."
eyes widened, startled.
do you do it, Dorian?" I demanded.
dark eyes feigned ignorance. "Do what?"
know damn well what I'm asking." I straightened my shirt collar in frustration.
"Your talleywhacker! How do you keep it in this condition? This isn't at all
chuckled boyishly. "I supposed I am just fortunate."
I've spent enough nights with you to know that that that cock never rests. You spurt all over me and
it doesn't go down even an inch!"
arched an eyebrow. "Are you complaining?"
sighed. "No. But I want to know why I can never tire you out."
was silent for several minutes. The blood of anger began draining from my face.
Yes, I wanted to know, but at what expense? Had I hurt him?
he said finally, holding out his hand to me. "I want to show you something."
About Annabeth Lake
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Published May 26, 2012
Erotica, Gay & Lesbian, Literature & Fiction.