The Butler - 25. Chapter XXV

The following morning Greg woke me early; being used to rising around seven, 5:30am proved to be a bit too much. No one should be as energetic at that hour as Gregory Montgomery. Sensing that I wasn't yet fully awake he announced he was gonna go for a run and asked me to arrange for breakfast to be brought to the room. I didn’t remember that as an option, the last time I was here. Normally, guests had to go downstairs for it.

“We'll pay,” he answered dismissively, changing into his running attire; dark blue long-sleeved running shirt and matching training pants. He left the jacket. “I'll be very warm in a few minutes,” he smiled when I voiced concern. It was still cold in the early mornings. Coming over to the bed, he leaned in and gave me a hard kiss on the mouth; heavy stubble left a tingling sensation on my lips. “Try to be awake when I come back in about an hour?”

**********

Greg took a little longer than that, arriving back at the room some ten minutes after a cart had been brought up with a breakfast selection that wouldn't look out of place in a five star hotel. They sure charged at that rate, though.

There was enough to feed a small family and the coffee was hot, a whole thermos of it. I'd already had a cup and was in the bathroom, having quickly showered and about to start shaving when he returned. He called out right away. “In here!” I answered, about to begin lathering my face with cream.

Still panting he appeared in the doorway; glancing sideways, I noted that from throat to stomach a v-shaped sweat stain showed and his hair was plastered to his forehead.

“Morning,” he remarked, adding, “see? Told you they would bring it. ”

“Yeah, about fifteen minutes ago.” Coming up behind me, he planted a kiss below my ear and I shuddered when he pulled me close, panting right past my cheek; I didn’t mind that, nor the decidedly masculine smell he exuded, but the sweat stain wetly came into contact with my bare back. “Hey! I just showered!”

He grinned rather roguishly at me in the mirror. “Nothing wrong with a bit of honest sweat.” No, not at all, but not against me, thanks, unless I participated in producing said sweat. “Now what do we have here…” Purveying the counter, an eyebrow rose when he saw my equipment and seemed pleasantly surprised. “You also shave classic style?”

“Yeah. Mr. Montgomery…he said a classic wet shave with a straight edge barber blade was a better, closer shave than the modern day stuff, so I tried it once and…” My eyes followed his hands in the mirror as he picked up the cream and shaving-brush, and began to apply it on my cheeks, upper lip, chin and throat. I automatically moved my head as he did so. “He was right. It feels much better so I got my own set and…”

I had a small moment of irrational fear when he picked up the folding razor, opened it and tilted my head up a little with a push under my chin. When he set the blade to my skin, I halted abruptly and our eyes met in the mirror.

“Hold still; I will not cut you. I shave this way myself, and learned it this way from my father. Relax, Chris,” he said softly, slowly moving the blade, “trust me.”

The only sound that could be heard was the rasp as he then proceeded to shave me, and pretty good too. Expertly even. I did relax then, instead listening to his calm breathing, close to my ear as the blade moved and then, suddenly, I heard it; a soft humming. At first, I thought it was something like the pipes in the walls, but it wasn’t.

It was Greg!

“I do that too,” I blurted out. Our eyes met again, and he raised an eyebrow questioningly, the blade halting. “Humming…” I clarified.

“Mhm,” he acknowledged, moving the blade again, shaving close to my Adam’s apple, “up.” I lifted my chin, closed my eyes. “Your beard is lighter than mine. I usually shave twice a day.”

“I know.” I did, actually. He shaved early in the morning and before dinner. I could always smell it. Fresh soap and aftershave. Usually a nice scent, unobtrusive.

“Left.”

Moving and tilting my head, keeping my eyes closed as I just listened, following his instructions. It actually was relaxing. Just feeling, I leaned backwards, sighing because it actually felt very good and then I felt him; he was hard.

“Good boy,” he murmured softly. “Right.” Turning my head, our eyes met again and he knew. He knew I could feel his cock. He began to hum again. “Little more.”

“Yes sir.”

It became some sort of…dance. Pushing back against him, him into me, pressing through his training pants and against the towel wrapped around my waist; I wanted him to do something, anything, but he just kept giving instructions and didn't touch me in any other way. It was exciting.

“I'm considering fucking you.” The sudden sound of his voice made me jerk. “Careful. Stay still.” He held the blade away from my skin and our eyes met. “Shall I?”

“Yes sir.” The blade returned and slid down. I swallowed. “Here?”

“Mhm. Lower your chin. Upper lip. Tight.” Doing as instructed, he expertly shaved, removing the stubble. That part always gave me trouble but his technique was flawless. “Tell me; do you like it hard? Or more vanilla?”

“Rough, sir.” The blade came to a halt for just a split second before it resumed, finishing a few strokes later.

“Do you now,” Against me, pressure mounted considerably. Personally, my dick was pressing almost painfully hard into the counter. I'd love to be rid of that towel now. “How rough?”

“Very, sir.”

“Give me an example.” I didn't even hesitate; as soon as he removed the blade I yanked the towel off and placed my knee on the surface, pushing back against him and lowered my head until my cheek rested on the cool marble. “Very good, boy.”

“Thank you, sir.” His hand slid up my back into my neck. The rush of fabric after jerky movement. Then, simultaneously, he held me down and pressed his entire length against me, having freed himself. Pushing into me hard, I felt obvious wetness.

“I approve, Chris. But we'll need a little help.” Suddenly he let me go and stepped back. “Stay there and don't look.”

For a second I felt disappointment; so close yet so far away still. I didn't dare look, obeying the command. I could hear him retreat into the room. Whatever it was that he was doing, it didn't take long; hardly half a minute had passed until he returned. And then I felt him again, wet still but something else. Something a little cold. The hand returned to my neck. Excitement rushed through me and I pushed back against him.

“Rough, you said?”

“Yes, sir.” And he pushed in; and amazingly, my body yielded easier than I'd have thought possible. His entry burned with the sharp, hard thrust and my body reacted instantly by clamping down on him; or tried to but he slid further in.

“Butter.”

**********

I’ve been taken roughly before and not always very good, either in technique or from inability. Some think there’s no technique involved at all and just go in hard, or fast, or a combination of the two; it ends up being a selfish fuck of theirs you just want over with as quick as can be. They didn’t understand how it works, how it feels. Not so with Greg. He somehow knew exactly how to approach a limit and remain there, where the pleasure became unbearable and I felt like melting, happy and complete.

It was a first for me, to feel thankful to a lover.

Yes, I screamed. From pleasure. Yes, I cursed. From pleasure. Yes, I came. Without touching myself. From pleasure.

He was a beast. And I thanked him for it. Several times.

**********

He gingerly withdrew and held me afterwards for a long, long time. Remaining close, he didn’t ask if I was alright or in pain; he just said “I know” whenever I said thank you and multiple times at that. He just held me; once I indicated I was fine and could walk quite well on my own, he didn’t step away for even a second, instead directing me into the shower stall and proceeding to wash me, very tenderly, very thoroughly. Not a spot was left unwashed or untouched and afterwards, he toweled me dry. He wasn’t concerned or anxious; he just refused to leave me alone and didn’t allow me to do a single thing myself; not even wash him, as he’d done me.

His attention was endearing. I felt protected and safe; he'd let nothing bad happen to me.