Free The Pillar by Kim Fielding

replaced by a fire deep in Faris’s core. Boro administered lovingly to each rounded cheek. When he licked instead of kissing—a long, searing stroke—Faris had to clamp his mouth shut against a whimper.
    Boro kissed the backs of Faris’s thighs too, and continued all the way down to his knees even though the scars didn’t stretch that far. Faris had never before realized that the tender skin behind his knees could feel so good, or that it was somehow connected directly to his cock, which was now throbbing urgently against the mattress.
    When Boro eased him onto his side again, Faris was pliant yet tingly with need. “I’d like to do that to you,” Faris whispered.
    “Next time. Right now I want…. Can we kiss some more?” Boro snuffled at the crook of Faris’s neck, just over the pulse point. “I’ve never kissed a man before. It’s nice.”
    That raised several questions, but Faris chose not to pursue them right now. Kissing was better than interrogating. He laced his fingers through Boro’s soft hair, drew him close, and pressed their lips together. He liked the slickness of Boro’s tongue against his, the sharp edges of Boro’s teeth, the smooth warmth of Boro’s body, and the blunt firmness of Boro’s cock poking against his hip. Without breaking the kiss, they shifted their bodies slightly. Boro’s hands roamed over Faris’s back, while Faris kept his palms resolutely on Boro’s ass.
    They writhed against each other, skin going slick with sweat and precome.
    Faris would have been perfectly content to continue on like that, his body feeling lighter and lighter as the kisses stole his air away. But Boro broke away with a gasp. “Can we…. Faris, I want you to fuck me. Please.”
    Although Faris hadn’t expected the request, he certainly welcomed it. But he wasn’t so far gone as to forget Boro was also his patient. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
    “You won’t. Or… even if it hurts a little, that’s all right. It’s different if it’s you.” He squeezed his hand between them to touch Faris’s cock for the first time. He gave a few firm, slow strokes; Faris bucked into his grip with a moan. Those calluses against him were exactly, precisely perfect.
    “Please?” Boro said, knowing Faris was in no condition to deny him anything.
    “Yes.”
    After two more quick strokes, Boro let go. He hurried onto all fours and dropped his shoulders to the bed, leaving his ass raised high. “All right,” he said. “Go ahead.”
    Faris wished he’d left a lantern lit. He sat up and kissed Boro’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
    “Where are you going?”
    “I have some oil that will work nicely.” And probably soil the bedclothes again. The laundress was going to hate him.
    “Oil?” Boro sounded puzzled. “For what?”
    Faris had stood, but now he sat again and rested a hand on Boro’s lower back. “To ease my way in. Is this… new to you?”
    Boro was silent for a long moment. “No. But there wasn’t any…. You won’t just spit?”
    That made Faris wince. He’d tried saliva as a lubricant when masturbating, licking his finger before inserting it into himself, but it had hurt. He couldn’t imagine trying to stuff something as big as an erect penis through tight muscles with only saliva to slick things up. “Oil’s better,” he said. He didn’t even have to feel around too much in the darkness, because he kept a small vial not far from the bed.
    He brought the oil back with him and drizzled a little on his finger. Boro tensed slightly when Faris stroked the slippery finger between his cheeks.
    “Boro? I think you’ll be more comfortable on your side. Less strain on your wounds.”
    “Oh. All right.” Boro allowed Faris to roll him over. At Faris’s gentle urging, Boro bent his top leg, placing his sole flat against the mattress.
    “Perfect.” Faris moved in closer. He kissed the nape of Boro’s neck, where the marks from the collar could still be felt. The skin was