Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Bokassa's Last Apostle - 8. Chapter 8
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
¡¡¡Warning, contains explicit descriptions of adult sexual nature. Do NOT read this if the legislation in your country would make this illegal!!!
Cut Shower Scene
This was the original opening to Chapter 2: Breakfast in Kenton. It is what happens before Everton goes down to the kitchen to find Kash and Edouard. I’m posting itto get feedback on whether you want it put back at the start of that chapter.
Chapter 2: Breakfast in Kenton
Everton awoke with a raging erection. Light was streaming through the window. He looked around him. Where was he? Why wasn’t he in the hotel?
This looked wrong. More like a room in someone’s house. Whatever happened last night? He asked himself. Where were his things? He looked around him. The room was very chic, very clean. Like a page from Ideal Homes. But how had he gotten here? His mouth felt like a hamster had slept inside it. Where were…? What had he…?
Bit by bit, the story of the previous night came back to him, the boy in the bar, his moment of madness, getting gaybashed, the loss of all his stuff, his wandering naked on Hampstead Heath, his new friends and a very long evening with two bottles of Jack Daniels. So that’s why my head hurts, he thought.
There was the gym kit Kash had lent him. He got out of bed and looked in the full length mirror opposite. ‘God, my hair’s a mess,’ he thought, and then, taking a good look at his body, not bad, nice and lean and, yes, very nicely hung, he thought. He was still semi-erect. He rubbed the neat fuzz on his defined pectorals, down the line of hair on his smooth belly and stroked himself. His main asset— actually, now his only asset— felt reassuringly heavy in his hand.
There were two doors into the room. He tried one cautiously. It led into an en-suite shower room. Again, very chic; the glass shelves were piled with toiletries and the walls were lined with marble. The shower head was in the middle of the room, which felt pleasantly cool. Choosing a “Dove” soap, he turned the handle and stepped into the gushing water and lathered-up.
It felt good. White, deliciously scented foam slopped all over him, running down his torso and then in between his thighs. Pulling back his foreskin to wash underneath, he finally yielded to temptation and began to masturbate. Taking his shower in this funny room, without a curtain or screen, felt strangely like it had on the Heath last night. It was somehow exciting, like being watched; voyeuristic, although he was now both voyeur and subject.
When he was finished, he found a towel and some cream. Smoothing it into his uniformly brown skin he felt very sexual. These guys have good taste, he thought, then, breaking into a broad mischievous grin, and not just because they took me in! This place is really something. They even have my favourite fragrances.
He helped himself to a generous quantity of “Xeryus”, found the guest toothbrush and razor and finished the job. Putting on the jogging pants and white vest he again looked in the mirror. Instinctively he adjusted them to show-off his body to best advantage.
The pants were tight on him and he admired the meaty bulge between his legs. He reached down and adjusted it a bit, then jumped up and down to see how it bounced.
…Story continues at the start of Chapter 2 as uploaded.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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