Page 43 of Sweet Thing

CHAPTER 20

sweet thing

Simeon removed the duvet and pillows from the bed and laid soft, white, fluffy towels over the king size mattress. A bottle of massage oil sat on the nightstand. There was no lube, no condoms, phones had been switched off, and the landline was off the hook.

When Bastian returned from using the bathroom, he wasn’t sure if the room felt too warm or if his body temperature was ramping up at the thought of being touched by Simeon. Tonight’s events would be out of his comfort zone—a transaction of need, a mutually beneficial arrangement that would not involve sex. He’d never even considered being with a man without sex, but Bastian knew he had nothing to lose at this point and Simeon intrigued him more than any man had since he lost Mattieus.

Simeon stood at the far end of the bed, fully clothed. Bastian’s shirt hung open, and he hadn’t bothered to refasten his trousers after using the bathroom. The men eyed one another like combatants on either side of a wrestling ring.

“Tell me the rules again,” Bastian quizzed, watching keenly as Simeon began to unbutton his shirt.

“No kissing, no touching nipples, cocks, or butts, no coming. We keep our pants on. We relax, we talk, we touch, we get to know one another. The goal is trust and communication. If either of us gets hard, we are to try and ignore it.” Simeon’s brows arched in amusement. Bastian laughed out loud and watched as Simeon reached the end of his buttons. This was going to be quite a test.

“Safe word?”

“Hmmm… panties?” Simeon suggested.

“Uh… okay, I would never use that word, so it’s good!” he chuckled.

“You want music? Something gentle?” Bast nodded. Simeon had already lined up a CD of electronica chill-out music; he pressed the play button on the CD player on the nightstand.

“Take your clothes off,” Bastian ordered sternly, as the first bars of gentle synth sound filtered into the room.

Sim’s mouth tugged into a smile at the audacity of the command. He got off on Bastian giving him orders. Sim let his white shirt fall to the floor, his eyes playfully pinning Bastian as he bit his lower lip. Simeon mussed up his dark hair, preening the mop of fringe to frame his androgynous face and create the prettiest picture. As a male model, he was used to the scrutiny of his naked form, but this felt different. Simeon’s torso was long, gracefully slender and toned, perfect for a runway model.

The time Simeon spent at the gym was evident in his lean, compact musculature. His chest was hairless, but as Bastian’s eyes trailed down Sim’s flat abdomen, he caught on to the smattering of dark hair trailing from his navel down beneath the waistband of his jeans. Simeon had such long graceful legs; he unbuttoned his jeans, pushed them down over his sparsely haired thighs, and stepped out. He stood with black designer boxers hanging just below defined protruding hipbones. A panel of black modal fabric cupped his semi-hard cock and balls. The side panels of the shorts were sheer, black, breathable fabric—see through. Bastian’s eyes grew wide; his eyebrows arched. “Turn around“.

Simeon’s mouth twitched to a coquettish grin, and he did as directed, enjoying the gasps and groans from the other man as he observed how the see-through fabric panel continued around to cling to the globes of his ass, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“You are determined to test me to my limits“, Bastian accused in exasperation, his severe German accent sounding strangely erotic to Sim.

“Let’s see what you’re packing, Blondie!” Simeon teased, gesturing for Bastian to undress for him. Bastian’s lips slid into a provocative smile, his eyes twinkling at the challenge. He pushed his gray suit trousers over thick-corded thighs, and stepped out of them. Bastian then bent over enticingly and retrieved the trousers from the floor. He turned back to face Simeon’s hungry stare and folded the trousers neatly, moving to drape them over the back of a side chair. Bastian stood wearing just the unbuttoned baby-blue shirt. He was delighted that Sim was looking at him with wide doe eyes and nibbling coquettishly at a thumbnail.

“You like?” he asked.

“More,” Sim commanded without hesitation.

Bastian unbuttoned the cuffs and let the shirt fall from his limbs so that Simeon could take him all in. Bastian’s skin was unblemished and lightly tanned, but veins could be seen running over his biceps, down his forearms to where his hands nervously fisted and released several times. Wide, muscled shoulders trailed down to a broad masculine chest, sprinkled with a down of blond hair. Simeon’s eyes feasted on the ridges of a well-defined six pack and a sculpted abdomen framed by slender, muscled hips. Downy blond hair led into the band of navy jockey shorts that clung alluringly to his weighty flaccid package and rock hard thighs. His stubbled face, ice-blue eyes, and blond jaw length hair completed a picture that Simeon found powerfully attractive.

Simeon raised a hand, extended a finger, and twirled it to instruct Bastian to turn around. The moment Bastian did turn, Sim’s hand flew to his mouth to mute a gasp of surprise. His eyes grew wide when he saw Bastian had a tattoo on his back. Simeon didn’t have any tattoos; he needed to keep his skin clear for his job, and generally, he preferred his art on the wall, not on his body. But this tattoo was a completely different matter. It was text only—the words in a swirling French script across the top of the man’s shoulders.

‘Boys, Boys. It’s a sweet thing.’

Simeon’s breath caught in his throat. He immediately recognized the words as lyrics from a Bowie song, ‘Sweet Thing’ from one of his favorite albums ‘Diamond Dogs.' The double-entendre in the words was delightful. An image flashed into Simeon’s mind of fucking Bastian, reading those words on his skin. It was doing things to Sim’s heart that he couldn’t comprehend. He took in the sculpture of Bastian’s back, down to the globes of the bubble butt hidden beneath his underwear. It certainly was a sweet thing—a peach of an ass. Simeon strode around the bed to stand behind Bastian. He needed to see the tattoo up close. Sim ran a finger over the words, tracing the script and singing lyrics of the song in his head.

“I had no idea you were such a big Bowie fan. It’s so beautiful; I love it!” Simeon was awestruck. He sighed, running a finger over the script. He leaned in and gave in to his compulsion, laying his lips on each word, kissing lightly.

Bastian’s head fell forward, and he sighed out a moan. He felt those kisses in every cell of his body. He waited for a moment and then turned to face Simeon. Their eyes mirrored the same smoldering heat. “I thought you said no kissing?”

“I did—but I have a problem with delayed gratification. I’m working every day to be better”, he replied flashing his smiling eyes. Bastian shook his head and grinned. There was warmth and electricity in that smile, and it sent a spark to engulf Simeon’s heart.

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