Act III
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Maximillian’s right hand glided above the skin, leaving a trail of cold chill, reminiscent of a block of ice sliding down the body. Jean looked up at the man sitting above him. He was undressing himself while touching Jean’s body as if it were a toy.
With every button undone, more and more of his porcelain skin was revealed. Before he could stop, Jean found himself marveling at the pristine, spotless fairness. Soon, Maximillian yanked his garment off his own body without hesitation. His flat chest came into vision as he leaned forward.
“Jean.”
The red hair draped over Jean, threatening to cascade on him any moment. It concealed the prince’s face. Jean stroked the hair up, and the prince whispered.
“Pull down my trousers.”
His tone was glee, jesting. Jean did not adjust his face to tilt down. He simply guided his eyes southward. Unlike himself, who was entirely bare, Maximillian was still covered in his trousers.
Perhaps Jean recalled what had happened before, for he felt a sudden thirst come to him. Left with no choice, he lowered his hand. He held the fabric, undid the button, and slowly slid it off, revealing the hideous organ he had seen before. Jean turned his face away from the sight, and as soon as he did, his lips were devoured. The kiss was a light punishment, for the prince seemed to have anticipated Jean’s reaction. The prince pressed on the lower lip, without inflicting pain. He pushed his way in with his tongue, swallowing the spittle in Jean’s mouth. Jean did not avoid the lips. In contrast, he held onto the prince and pulled him closer. He preferred it, for he was exempt from the tribulation of having to look down, and—
“What whim of yours is this?”
—for the kiss did not offend him.
Maximillian lightly panted. He seemed to not have anticipated that Jean would reciprocate the oral exploration. Without answering, Jean pursed his lips against Maximillian’s once more. As he did, he pulled the prince close, layering his body on top of the royal’s. Jean flipped their bodies around, and then looked down at the prince, who smirked. Maximillian wrapped his legs around Jean’s waist.
“And now, what do you suppose you do?”
He was japing, treating Jean as if he were a boy oblivious to the mechanisms of pleasure. Jean frowned. He lowered his hand, and he felt Maximillian’s member, which was half erect. It felt familiar, similar to his own. Yet, he did not find the sensation offensive. Meanwhile, Maximillian japed some more, twisting Jean’s nipples. Unlike Jean, there was not a trace of reservation in the prince’s action. Jean slightly pressed Maximillian’s member with his palm. It was followed by a lazy moan.
“You conspire to assassinate me, perchance, with anticipation?”
His tone was full of jest. In lieu of a response, Jean stroked the prince’s member with his hand, rubbing his thumb at the tip. Jean felt the legs wrapped around his waist twitch and flinch. He lowered his gaze and was met with fair, white skin. He deliberated for a moment, then licked the skin at the right collarbone.
He tasted slight saltiness as if he had a particle of salt. It disappeared soon. Jean let his tongue slide. He slid downward and arrived at the nipple. Curiously, his mouth began to water. He proceeded to open his mouth, and Maximillian’s nipples nestled perfectly within. He traced a circle around the little patch of skin, tickling it. Then, he pressed it down with his tongue. Jean heard a moan come under him. Jean bit it slightly while Maximillian unwrapped his legs. His body seemed to have gone weak.
“More...”
He spoke, his voice soft. Lapping his tongue, Jean moved to the other side. There lay the part of the chest he hadn’t tasted yet. Jean brought his hand up, rubbing the wet right nipple in a circular motion while sucking on the left one. He could feel the prince’s hand crawling down his body, aiming to arrive between his legs.
Jean flinched when the cold hand touched him. Was it the coldness of the hand? Or was it the ephemerality of the coldness, which disappeared like snow melting under the sun? Jean could not be certain. Slowly, he felt the heat spread and climb its way up. Jean removed his lips from Maximillian’s chest. The prince was looking up to him. They locked eyes. Kiss me, said Maximillian. Jean pressed his lips against the prince’s, just as he had been ordered to. Maximillian long ventured inside Jean’s mouth as if he were breathing out the excitement.
“Kneel. Hold your body straight.”
The prince gave the order after having tasted Jean’s lips to his heart’s content. Jean followed the order, docile. Maximillian now sat with his back to the headboard. Now that he was on his knees, Jean’s bare member was level with the prince’s eyes. He could see the prince licking his chops. The face well-suited the sunlight, which was weakened from its battle with the curtains. Maximillian opened his mouth, and Jean saw the clear, pale rose lips move. Jean had a premonition as to what the prince was about to do, and it confounded him. He was aware of the deed, one that of pleasure he had never had. He was about to taste it.
“Why do you look at me with such eyes?”
A smooth face touched Jean’s thigh. The hair tickled. Jean was momentarily at a loss for words. Maximillian’s lips parted and closed as he spoke. They looked licentious, obscene. The prince must have read Jean’s mind, his own head lain against Jean’s thigh, for his hand climbed up and grabbed Jean’s member. Maximillian’s lips seemed they were about to part at any moment.
“Even the whores in the streets... do no such a thing, Your Grace.”
Jean spoke with slight bewilderment. The prince smirked before responding, And?
He then pulled Jean’s member close and licked the tip. The unexpected sensation spread from the sensitive spot. Maximillian’s lips parted slightly, and they proceeded to swallow the tip of Jean’s member. Jean felt the heat pool into the organ. Perhaps it was because of the greatly lewd scene happening before him, but Jean knew not where to rest his hands. He had lived as a catamite, but oral deeds were condemned to be base and lowly. Jean had never experienced it. Catamites themselves were too lowly in the first place to be the subject of such deeds, to be the recipient of an act so... so pleasurable.
“Ah...”
It felt strange.
Maximillian’s hand swept up from the stones, and stroked along the shaft softly. The thumb moved as though it was peeling the skin off, and the tongue embraced the tip. Maximillian slowly swallowed the member that was so very stiff. From above, Jean watched his own cock disappear into Maximillian’s mouth, entranced and mesmerized. The prince moaned and groaned occasionally. His face was slightly flushed as if he had a fever. When Maximillian swallowed the cock with the way he looked, Jean felt like all the moisture inside his head was sizzled away, leaving him feeling befogged. He felt thrills down his thighs, and the muscles tautened.
God be damned... In the end, Jean lowered his hands and carefully held Maximillian’s face. Maximillian took a glance at Jean. Then, he opened his mouth a little more. Jean could see clearly his own member enter the damp, dark cave. He could not discern, however, whether the single thread of fluid hanging was his own, or of the prince’s mouth. Jean slightly panted. He pulled his buttocks back slightly, then gently pushed his way back in. Maximillian’s tongue wrapped around the member and sucked on it. Every time he did, Jean was all but losing his mind from the pleasure. The Crown Prince, his mouth agape, had a look far more obscene than any that Jean had witnessed.
“Does it please you, Your Grace?”
It was Jean who was being pleasured, yet the look on the prince’s face seemed to tell otherwise. Maximillian nodded without any shame, and this time, Jean pulled on the back of the prince’s head, nothing holding him back. He pushed his member to his heart’s content inside the oral cavity. He could hear sloshing noise. Maximillian did not fight back. He rather seemed to be pleasured, his own member erect. This repulsive deed... Recalling what the prince had done to him, Jean forced himself to continue to think. Otherwise, he felt like he would cling onto to the man’s mouth, brought down to his knees, begging for more of the bliss. He had to carve the words in his mind. This filthy deed...
“Ah... Ah, God damn it, Maximillian...”
When this man spurted his seed on Jean and insulted him, claiming his face alone to be quite arousing, was this the same pleasure he had felt? Jean could feel his member entirely stiff, its tip swollen, leaking viscous fluid. He felt as though his body would explode at any moment. And that was when it happened. Jean felt something cold touch upon his hand, which had been placed behind Maximillian’s head. And with that coldness, the pressure wrapped around his member disappeared as if it were a mirage.