New Master at Riverbend

He lifted his eyes and looked into Thomas’s eyes. Yes, there is want there, he thought. Now that he knew that men did it with men as well as with women, he could clearly see the want in Thomas’s eyes. It wasn’t any different, really, than the want he’d seen in Macey and Lottie’s eyes—indeed, in the eyes of most of the slave women. He just hadn’t looked for it in the eyes of a man before. He smiled at Thomas, and Thomas gave an embarrassed start.

“You wanna lift the other bucket over me, Thomas?” Thomas, dressed only in his breeches, came slowly forward. He was trembling as he lifted the bucket of water over Jerome’s head and let the liquid roll down his body. Thomas was a massive man, standing a good head taller than Jerome and with bulging arm, chest, and thigh muscles. Jerome felt diminished in his presence, needing to act carefully, because if he gave too much too soon, the man would overpower him and just take what he wanted and walk away. Jerome needed him to want him so badly that the massive man would follow his lead.

“Umm, feelin’ good,” Jerome whispered, running his hands down his torso to his thighs again. He could hear the catch in Thomas’s breath, and before the man could move away from him, Jerome reached back and took Thomas’s hands, bringing his arms around his body. He held one hand to his breast and moved the other one down to cover his genitals. Thomas was trembling. He asserted some control, however, pulling his hands away and running them over Jerome’s body as he wished, but when the hands stopped roaming, they were back where Jerome had put them. Jerome was fighting hard the moan his throat wanted to give in response to the feel of the massive cock running up from his waistline. If the man wasn’t so much taller than Jerome, Jerome was afraid that the cock would be in place already and that Thomas would just hold Jerome in a tight embrace and enter and take him right there.

“Me bein’ wrong, Thomas? Does you not want to fuck with me?”