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An excellent question. Let me ask you one of my own. Do I distract you, mon chéri?

I am often full of excellent questions. It's rather my finest trait. Heh. You do distract me. Almost every time you swing that weapon. Like I said, effortlessly sexy.

You certainly have plenty other fine traits as well.

Is that so? Then, let me reassure you I've a skilled hand with many swords. Perhaps one day I can show you.

Tell me. How else do I distract you?

Not sure it would be particularly gentlemanly to brag about them all the same. It is indeed so. I suppose I'm having a rare moment of honesty. Are you now? Perhaps one day you should. I'm sure camp wouldn't miss us for a few hours if we did. Your eyes. Actually. You have this...gaze that makes it feel like the world stops for a few seconds. Or like you could get lost in them. Well, that and the way you have a little swagger of that walk. Though that normally directs my eyes downward.

Between us, I wouldn't mind if you were a little less gentlemanly.

Perhaps we could. But I don't know if it's a good idea. I can't promise I could keep things... Casual, as they say.

I had no idea you watched me so closely, Gustave. I admit, I'm not blind to your charms, either. How genuine and captivating you are when something has caught your eye. The way you speak with such reverance about your passions and interest. A distraction is a good word for it.

Between us- are you sure you could handle me if I was a little less gentlemanly? Oh. You're something of a stayer, are you? You know the world could end tomorrow. You really think casual or not matters? You draw the eye, Verso. It's hard not to. Seems you have noticed quite about me. I'm quite flattered.

I think I could manage.

Something like that. The world might not end tomorrow. Perhaps knowing someone will stay until the end speaks to the romantic in me.

Then should I keep to myself all the things I'd like to notice about you, given the chance?

I suppose there isn't much you can handle. Well...It's certainly not like I'm going anywhere. If that changes things. I'd rather you tell me those things. If we can't be honest with each other now- what's the point? Though, you do have the chance. If you want it.

Is that a promise?

Want it is putting it lightly. Where do I even begin?

I've wondered how you might look at me, the first time we kissed. All those little details I could memorize to have you so close. The real color of your eyes - everything from the rings around your iris to the freckles of color, however dark they might be. How your lashes might flutter, the little sounds you might make as to steal your breath away. Even the tint of your lips after I've kissed you over and over.

I am a man of my word, Verso. It's a promise. My... You truly are a romantic. Not sure I've ever had someone wonder what my lips would be after such a passionate kiss. Even reading that has made me forget to take a breath, I hope you know. Almost makes me feel guilty for more of my sinful thoughts I had about you. Though I thought about how your hands might feel on my hips, the pressure of it. The...strength you'd have. The way you might ground someone while you did it. The taste of you of your lips, of...so many parts of you.

Oh, I have plenty of sinful thoughts, Gustave.

Consider it foreplay.

But trust me, I've thought about it plenty. The warmth of your body under my hands, feeling every way you move when I touch you just right. How my hands would fit just right on your hips, holding you down, listening to all your breathless pleas for me to take you.

And your mouth. I wonder if your lips and tongue are as skillful in other ways as they are discussing your passions. If your moans are as alluring as the rest of you. Would you cry my name or whisper it as I take you apart?

You match my own in equal measure apparently. It's...certainly thrilling, as far as foreplay goes. And it's certainly getting the job done. I think the manner of my moans would depend on what exactly you were doing. Would you be rough and all consuming? Or slow and gentle to make me feel every last inch and moment of what you were doing? If you played me right, I'd make sweeter music than your piano would. Would you let me tease my tongue along your cock or would you take my mouth in desperation till I could barely take a breath? Fast or slow? Would you be sweet and presence or... strong and intense. It's hard to know what I crave more, if I'm honest. I think I just ache for you in ways...I need.

Edited 2025-05-21 16:39 (UTC)

Live as long as I have and you start collecting fantasies.

Is it? Am I exciting you, Gustave?

I could be anything you like. Give you anything you need. I could hold you down, pin your arms above your head and make you beg for it while I take you, nice and slow. Watching you come apart under me, pleading for more while I take you apart one thrust at a time. Or I could flip you over. Hold you down as I whisper against your ear what you do to me while I fuck you. Hard and deep, leave you so breathless you can't even say my name. And oh that mouth of yours. I would love to feel your tongue along every inch of me until I hold you down on my cock, leave you breathless all over again.

So tell me what you need. Let me give it to you. What do you want to hear, mon beau? And tell me, are you hard thinking about me now and all the ways I'd have you?

Well now I know a walk around your mind would be quite the eye-opening experience. Though I always assumed so. ...You are indeed, Verso. You know you speak like this...write like this to me and how could anyone, even the strongest among us, only want you for single night? You worry about the inability to keep things casual and yet I find myself already aching for night, after night, after night. And I wish so much that I can be greedy, that I could have every single one of those experiences. And to make choose is rather cruel. I need it all, Verso. Want it all. But if I must choose... Take me. Hold me down. Fuck me with a passion so much I can hardly find my breath. Fuck me till I know is you and your cock. Fuck my throat till I swallow you down like you're finest wine I've ever tasted. I...

[ Instead of an answer, a picture comes though on the others device. He'd clearly taken a moment to set it up but Gustave already looked almost sinfully ruined. His dark curls falling over dark, lustful eyes as he leaned back against a smooth rock of the cliff face of camp. His expedition robes untangled and unbuckled, his pants unbuckled and a hand sliding into his pants to squeeze at the outline of a cock still trapped by his underwear. A moment later another message comes though-]

You could say that.

Among other things.

Then allow me to continue. I've plenty to say.

I'll give you anything, night after night after night, if you'll have me. You've captured my attention in such a way, I don't know if I'll ever have enough of you. I want you to be greedy, to let me be as well.

As you wish, then. I'll take you apart piece by piece, learn every part of your body and all the ways I can make that pretty mouth of yours sing for me. All before I slide my cock between those lips of yours, let you get just a taste before I fuck your throat. Over and over until those dark eyes of yours are pleading for me to give you what you want. Until you're begging in whatever way you can.

( The picture is a surprise, but a welcome one. Gustave's always attractive, but seeing him on display like this, ruined and wanting, is truly a sight. An inspiration that makes his fingers long to play his body as easily as he does the ivory keys of a piano. And there's another urge, thought long forgotten - a realization that he feels as if he could pick up a brush, spill pigment across a canvas in an attempt to capture the lust he feels looking at Gustave.

He breathes out, wets his lips, and palms himself through his own pants slowly.)

Touch yourself. Touch yourself and close your eyes, and imagine I'm there with you. Imagine my hands are slipping under your clothes, learning the lines of your body as my lips caress your neck.

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