Chapter 1-1

1853 Words
Chapter 1 England, 1345 Lord, sleeping at the feet of Sir William was going to kill him. Duncan wondered if it were possible to die from stroking his own c**k too much. He didn’t think so, but what did he know? Hadn’t he heard something about going blind? The idea didn’t stop him. Using both hands, he stroked up and down the length, imagining Sir William’s big hands instead of his. Other than the sounds he made, the only thing heard in the tent was the soft breathing of the object of his fantasies. Naturally, Sir William didn’t even snore. He was perfect in every way. Duncan worried his bottom lip with his teeth as he stroked faster. His balls had grown impossibly tight. He ran his index finger along the red head, rubbing in the drop of pre-c*m. He closed his eyes, imagining Sir William touching him, stroking him. Or perhaps his mouth…his tongue darting out to flick the tip of Duncan’s c**k. He let out an involuntary groan. His hands stilled on his c**k, his heart racing. If Sir William woke…but he heard nothing. Letting out a shaky breath, he put one hand over his mouth to keep the noise from coming out and used the other to work his straining erection. He supposed it was wrong to lust after one’s knight, but in the two years he’d been Sir William’s squire he’d gone to bed with a hard-on every evening. The painful truth was he’d never been particularly interested in maidens and the like. Big, muscular armored knights were his fantasy. And Sir William was the most gorgeous one of all. At least in Duncan’s opinion. He’d had the fortune to see the knight naked multiple times and the man was all sleek muscle. Sir William also had a very large c**k, and Duncan liked to imagine it thrusting in and out of his ass. With a ragged moan he covered with his hand, he shot semen all over. God. Duncan grabbed a cloth he kept close and wiped himself. Someday, mayhap, he’d actually get to have s*x with someone other than his own hand. He’d reached eighteen autumns without losing his virginity to anyone. Of course, he would like it to be Sir William, but unfortunately the handsome blond knight seemed only interested in the fair maidens who offered him their favors. His breathing having returned to normal, Duncan crawled under his bedroll and attempted to fall asleep. All his life it had taken him a long time for slumber to come. His mind was always full of the day’s events or some conversation or the knight for whom he lusted. Sir William fell asleep within moments of putting his head down. It was quite irritating. And now…Duncan had to piss. Great. He scooted out from his sleeping roll and reached for his boots. It was far too cold outside to traipse around barefoot. “What in God’s name are you doing now?” Duncan froze at the mumbled words coming from Sir William. He couldn’t have been awake. “I…I have to…um go,” he blurted out. Sir William sighed. “I’m sorry to have awakened you, sir.” “In truth, you are the noisiest squire I have had. Go on then, and be quiet when you return.” Sir William turned to face away from Duncan’s position. Duncan exhaled and scrambled up. Sir William didn’t sound like he’d heard him touching himself. Well, he hadn’t said he did, anyway. Duncan slipped out of the tent. Glancing around at the other scattered tents, Duncan took in the area. A few of the knights were still awake and watching over the camp. He saw movement near the trees to the left and a small fire several feet away from his position. The other knights would prevent anyone from getting to Sir William if they came under attack, as he was the son of their baron, Lord de Villiers. Duncan hurried to the right where there was a small lake and some trees. It was too cold to linger. He undid his braies and relieved himself next to a tree. He’d turned to make his way back to his tent when he heard rustling close to his position. “Who’s there?” he whispered. Why hadn’t he picked up his sword before venturing out? What kind of knight would he make if he wasn’t prepared? The only answer he got was a low moan. Frowning, Duncan walked toward the noise, being careful not to step on any leaves that would give him away. Crouching down next to leafy foliage, he peered through two branches. Standing with his braies down around his ankles was one of the other knight’s squires, Aaron. Aaron was bent at the waist, leaning against a tree trunk. Two muscular hands gripped Aaron’s hips and a thin, but long c**k thrust between his ass cheeks. From his current spot, Duncan could only make out the lower half of the man f*****g Aaron, the rest being obstructed by leafy branches. Holy Christ. He hadn’t expected to come upon this. Aaron moaned again, this time a little louder. “Hush,” came the whispered response from the man moving in and out of the squire. “Half the camp will hear you.” Duncan tried to place the voice. He was dying to know who f****d Aaron. The man looked a bit too thin to be Aaron’s knight, Magnus, who was on the heavy side. Another squire? The man’s balls slapped against Aaron as his thrusting sped up. His fingers tightened on the squire’s hips. Duncan huffed, frustrated at not knowing the identity of the second man. Mayhap if he stood, he would get a better view. Slowly, he straightened from his crouch. A hand pushed on his shoulder. “What are you doing?” Duncan swore. He’d recognize the deep, masculine voice of Sir William anywhere. He tried to slip under his hold, but the knight’s grip on his shoulder was strong. He could just make out his handsome features in the glow of the torch light coming from the camp. He was frowning. Sir William pushed Duncan behind him, but didn’t loosen his hold. He peered through the trees where Duncan had just been. Duncan tried again to squirm out of his grasp. “Hold still,” Sir William hissed. Duncan heard his knight’s sharp intake of breath. Then he turned abruptly away and pushed Duncan toward the small clearing leading back to the camp. “Sir—” “Taking to spying on your fellow squires, Duncan?” Sir William bit out. “I didn’t—” “Be quiet, you’ll call attention to us.” He pushed Duncan back into view of the camp. He stopped and glared at him. “I came looking for you because you’ve been gone for a while. I thought mayhap something had happened to you.” Duncan warmed at the thought Sir William was concerned for him. “I…well…I heard a noise.” “You left without your weapon again.” Duncan hung his head. Judging by the heat radiating from his cheeks, he was blushing. Great. He’d been caught without his weapon and watching two men have s*x. He hoped Sir William didn’t plan on getting rid of him. “I did forget, but I thought with all the knights surrounding us it wouldn’t matter.” “A knight never goes anywhere without his weapon, boy. If you intend to be one someday, you’ll do well to remember that.” A big warrior with a mustache sauntered over. “Is everything well, Sir William?” Sir William smiled. “Aye, Godfrey. Return to your post.” Duncan watched the warrior walk away. Obviously it hadn’t been him with Aaron. Other than the mustache, which Duncan found a bit distasteful, Sir Godfrey was a fine man. Sir William cleared his throat. Duncan’s face flamed hotter and he returned his gaze to the man he truly fantasized about. And who could blame him? Sir William had a mass of blond hair that came just to the top of the collar of his doublet. It was thick and golden like the sun. He had high cheekbones and a long, aquiline nose. When he smiled, dimples appeared on the sides of his mouth. He had eyes the color of the blue sky. He was tall and muscular and the best knight around. He’d won more tournaments than Duncan had even attended. Women swooned over him and bards sung tales about his knightly prowess. “Am I…to be replaced, sir?” Duncan squeaked out. His heart thudded painfully, and to his everlasting shame, he felt the first hint of tears pricking at his eyes. If Sir William didn’t want him as squire, what was he to do? His family would never take him back disgraced. “Hell, no,” Sir William said. “You do love to be dramatic, Duncan. ‘Tis a wonder you have not joined a performing troupe.” He rolled his eyes. “Get back to the tent.” Duncan resisted his sigh of relief and ran in the direction indicated. He wouldn’t be sacked today anyway. He lived in fear he would displease his knight so much that Sir William would dismiss him. It was well known the man had a somewhat volatile temper and though he did not strike his squires, he went through them rather quickly. Duncan had been with him for two years already, but there were some who hadn’t last six months. He lifted the flap and held it aside for Sir William to precede him. Then he followed him in and secured the tent. Sir William sat on his bedroll, and Duncan knelt down next to him to remove his boots. The inside of the tent was dark and he could no longer make out the knight’s expression. Sir William’s spicy, woodsy scent assailed Duncan’s nose and he tried not to appear as though he were inhaling it. It wasn’t fair for any one man to be so incredibly attractive. Duncan wondered if Sir William would mention what they’d seen among the trees. He couldn’t get the sight of Aaron being so thoroughly f****d out of his mind. He’d wished he could have traded places with Aaron and the man he hadn’t been able to see fully was Sir William. “What’s that sigh for?” Lord, he’d sighed out loud? Someday he would learn to control himself, Duncan supposed. “N-nothing.” “Hmm. You should probably get some sleep. We have an early day tomorrow if we are to make it all the way home before nightfall.” Duncan nodded. “Aye, sir.” He went to his own roll and began removing his boots. “Sir, who was it that was swiving Aaron?” “What?” Duncan couldn’t believe he’d just blurted that out. He buried his face in his hands and prayed he would learn to keep his mouth shut. “Um…it was just…I was curious.” “You couldn’t see?” Duncan licked his dry lips. “No. I could only see Aaron.” “Mayhap, they hid within the trees because they cared not for the curious to see what they were about.” “Yes, I am sure ‘tis true.” “Then I would be doing them an injustice by revealing their secrets to you.” Sir William lay down upon his sleeping mat. Duncan gritted his teeth in disappointment. He really wanted to know. Curse Sir William for coming upon him before he was able to discover Aaron’s lover. Sometime during the night, he’d briefly thought, since he couldn’t have the man he really wanted, mayhap he could experiment with the same man Aaron had. Unless they were more than casual lovers. Duncan supposed that was possible. “I could ask Aaron,” Duncan suggested. “Aye, you could at that. How will you phrase the query?” Duncan frowned and lay down. “What do you mean?” “What will you ask? Who was that taking you against the tree last night?” Sir William’s amusement was plain enough in his tone. “Or how about, whose c**k was in your ass last night?” Duncan’s ears burned red. “I…I see your point.” “Here is something to consider, squire.” “What?” “Minding your own affairs.” Duncan heard a distinct chuckle from Sir William’s direction and then his usual soft breathing. Lord, the man fell asleep fast.
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