That night, Aston had driven himself.
The interior of the V16 was luxurious and beautiful. Qin Siyu felt dizzy, so he leaned lightly against the seat.
His head was spinning, his tongue tingled, and he had almost no feeling left in either lip. His whole body still ached with a strange softness. He lay sprawled in the passenger seat, mouth open, struggling to breathe.
Beneath the genuine leather of the passenger seat was horsehair from fine Russian steeds. The cold climate of Russia made their tail hair longer, thicker, and tougher. After being washed, disinfected, and softened, the strands had been carefully woven into the V16’s seat cushions.
Qin Siyu knew none of this. He only knew that sinking into the cushion made his lower body more sensitive and uncomfortable, his entire pelvis exquisitely vulnerable.
Aston drove carefully and glanced at him from time to time.
Qin Siyu’s lips were red and swollen. Aston studied them closely.
‘…’ Sensing Aston’s gaze, Qin Siyu suddenly shifted at one point and turned sideways, twisting in the seat to show Aston only the back of his head.
Aston: ‘…’
Drunk, Qin Siyu still couldn’t stand steadily after they got out of the car. He tipped to one side, and Aston caught him at once.
Aston hoisted him up, had Qin Siyu loop an arm around his shoulders, and held his slender waist as they walked to Qin Siyu’s rented apartment.
Qin Siyu said nothing.
A few fingers pressed against his waist, and that aching weakness returned.
At the building’s entrance they happened to encounter several of Qin Siyu’s roommates.
One greeted him. ‘Sean, we’re going out tonight. A movie and then dancing. We won’t be back until morning.’
Thoroughly drunk, Qin Siyu replied, ‘All right.’
He couldn’t find his key, so Aston helped.
‘Which side?’ Aston asked.
But before Qin Siyu could answer, Aston pressed his fingers against the pockets on both sides and discovered the key was in the right one.
His nimble fingers slipped inside, felt around, found the key, hooked its ring with his index finger, and drew it out.
To retrieve the key, Aston’s index finger had slid along Qin Siyu’s thigh through the fabric. Qin Siyu couldn’t hold back a small ‘Mm-hm.’
The finger paused for an instant, then continued, drawing the key ring free.
The sensation on his thigh vanished.
Once inside, Aston settled Qin Siyu on the old sofa by the apartment entrance.
The roommates had bedrooms and Qin Siyu lived in the living room, but outside the curtain was a common area with a sofa. It was red. After those earlier dreams, Qin Siyu had even washed it clean.
Qin Siyu sat there in a daze, staring at Aston.
Aston watched him too. After a long moment he bent down, raised Qin Siyu’s face with one hand, cradled his neck with four fingers, and pressed his thumb against his chin, tilting his head up. Then he kissed him deeply again.
Both extended their tongues, twining and playing together.
Qin Siyu clutched Aston’s hair with one hand and drew the other around his nape, sucking, tasting, and entwining with even more abandon and intoxication.
Kingsley’s tongue is mine, Qin Siyu thought.
The wet sounds returned. ‘Mm—’ Qin Siyu murmured.
Only after a long time did they separate, but Qin Siyu felt even more uncomfortable. He didn’t understand and looked at Aston almost pleadingly. ‘Kingsley… I don’t feel well. Really not well.’
Aston thought he understood. Reluctantly he stepped back, entered the room to check it, pulled aside the curtain, looked around the kitchen and bathroom too, and finally returned to the entrance. ‘Then I should go. You know what to do yourself.’
‘…???’ Qin Siyu thought hard. His eyes even cleared a little. After a long while he finally realized he truly lacked this knowledge and couldn’t help asking, ‘…What am I supposed to do?’
Aston fell silent, studying him. He met Qin Siyu’s curious eyes, waited a while, and finally asked for confirmation. ‘You don’t know?’
‘Know what?’ Qin Siyu asked in return.
His lips were red, his cheeks and the skin around his eyes flushed, yet he asked so innocently, so genuinely ignorant.
Aston took one of Qin Siyu’s hands and pressed it against the front of his trousers, spreading the palm and pressing over Qin Siyu’s fingers and the back of his hand at the same time. He made Qin Siyu grip his own erection through the fabric. Aston didn’t release him but kept his hand wrapped around Qin Siyu’s, forcing the fingers to hold it as the trousers creased and stretched around its shape. ‘You’ve never done this before?’
Qin Siyu was already unbearably swollen. The pressure hurt for a moment, and he let out a muffled sound. ‘I’ve done that.’ Every time I dreamed of you.
Aston let him go. ‘Then how did you deal with it before?’
Qin Siyu collected himself and answered, ‘I do housework.’
Aston: ‘…………’
Qin Siyu went on, ‘After a while it goes back to normal.’
‘…………’ Aston could scarcely believe it. ‘Housework every time?’
‘Of course.’ If it had worked the first time, naturally he’d kept doing it. Was that so unusual? Qin Siyu was always eager to learn, however. ‘Am I not supposed to do housework?’
Aston straightened and looked at him.
He’d been drinking too. Aston actually asked, ‘Want me to teach you tonight?’
Qin Siyu sensed that something was unusual and went quiet.
He felt anxious and excited at once.
He had no idea what would happen.
Aston bent over him, rested both hands on his knees, and pressed firmly with his thumbs to force his knees apart.
Qin Siyu: ‘!!!’
Then Aston half crouched, brought his fingers to Qin Siyu’s belt, and paused. Looking up to meet Qin Siyu’s eyes, he moved his fingers and pulled the pointed end of the belt from the buckle.
Breathing rapidly, Qin Siyu watched everything with his eyes lowered.
The belt came free and was tossed aside, but except for the top button, all the lower buttons were difficult to undo.
The seam of his trousers had already been pulled taut.
Aston opened the fly, bent closer with his eyes lowered, pinched one button with one hand and pulled its buttonhole open with the other, working the button free.
At last the fly hung completely open, spread wide to either side.
His underwear was white, new, and boxer-style, but the waistband had already lifted away from his abdominal muscles, stretched by what was beneath.
Qin Siyu looked down at himself. How strange.
Aston said, ‘Always forcing it down again isn’t good.’
Qin Siyu asked, ‘Then what should I do? It’s so hard to make it go back…’
‘Of course it can go back,’ Aston said. ‘Something will…’
Through the fabric, his fingertip touched the lower part of the raised shape and traced its curve toward the tip. ‘Come out… along this path.’
‘Something?’ Qin Siyu asked.
Wasn’t that just pee-pee?
But he didn’t feel as if he needed to urinate at times like this.
Aston asked, ‘You really don’t understand?’
‘Mm.’
Aston’s voice seemed to float lightly. ‘Then I’ll teach you now.’
Through the fabric he traced the curve upward several more times. A damp patch appeared in the strained material and turned translucent, revealing a hint of red beneath.
Aston pulled the fabric down. With nothing to restrain it, Qin Siyu’s erect penis sprang upright.
The sudden sight of it made Aston pause as well.
It reminded him once again that Qin Siyu was a man, with healthy genitals that were even thick and long.
And this time the reminder shattered every possibility of an ‘exception.’
Even a one-in-a-hundred-million or one-in-a-billion chance could no longer survive.
The organ was so like his own.
But Aston quickly became absorbed.
He couldn’t stop staring. He wanted to cup it, stroke it, even lick and suck it, take it into his mouth, push it deep against his throat.
They had the same organ, the same protrusion. Their bodies couldn’t fit together at all, yet he perversely wanted them to merge completely.
Whatever Qin Siyu had, Aston had too. What was so fascinating about it?
Yet it fascinated him all the same.
He looked at Qin Siyu.
Black hair and eyes, yellow skin, whereas Aston himself had golden hair and blue eyes. Such enormous differences between their kinds, and still they shouldn’t try to merge.
But—
Aston took a handkerchief from his pocket. With his other hand he flicked the erect organ lightly. ‘Wait a moment.’
Qin Siyu gave a little sound.
Aston went to the bathroom to dampen the handkerchief, returned, and wrapped it around Qin Siyu to clean him.
Qin Siyu jolted. ‘Cold!’
He arched his lower back and went rigid. ‘Kingsley, it’s cold!’
The surface was cold, the inside hot. Qin Siyu could hardly bear it.
As Aston wrapped the handkerchief around him, he noticed the Aston family crest embroidered in one corner.
Delicate and imposing.
Aston wrapped the handkerchief with the family crest pressed against Qin Siyu, moving up and down. Near the tip he grew even more meticulous, enclosing it and cleansing every inch.
Qin Siyu panted hard.
What was this—
Aston tossed aside the handkerchief and stared fixedly at the organ, as though he wanted to memorize every detail of each vein and vessel.
He used every trick he could think of to bring Qin Siyu pleasure.
First he lightly scraped the underside with his nails, then gently stroked it with the pads of his fingers, sliding from the base along the underside toward the head and down the other side, never touching the tip itself.
Then he switched to two hands, stroking and lightly scraping along both sides with four fingertips at once, teasing it repeatedly.
At last he gripped it firmly. With the other hand, he touched its head, circling again and again around the ridge of the corona. Then he rubbed the head from every angle with both thumbs, feeling the delicacy of its surface. Finally he traced rhythmic circles around the small opening, gradually moving faster, and at the end pressed and probed into it with his fingertip.
He pressed a fingertip against the very tip and lifted it away, pulling out a thin silver thread that stretched, then clung back. He did it again and again, and the thread formed again and again.
Still drawing out those threads, he asked, ‘Have you ever seen this, Sean? Have you seen this coming from your own body?’
Qin Siyu seemed nearly out of his mind, his gaze unfocused and his knees trembling.
At last Aston wrapped one hand around the shaft and moved it forcefully back and forth, using the other to rub and probe its head. He controlled the rhythm: every time Qin Siyu was close to losing control, he suddenly slowed or lightened his touch, keeping the other man entirely in his hands.
Aston was entranced, as though handling the most precious treasure in the world.
Qin Siyu’s thigh muscles pulled taut. He was no weakling; his thighs were strong and firm.
He tensed them, arched his chest, and stared hazily, occasionally letting out a moan.
‘Kingsley,’ Qin Siyu said, ‘I… I think I want to… ah…’
‘Want what?’
‘…Pee-pee.’
Aston said gently, ‘You don’t need to pee. You’re about to ejaculate.’
‘Ejaculate?’ What was that?
Aston gripped him firmly again, increased the speed, and pressed his other hand against the head. With all five fingers he squeezed from its rim toward the tip, bringing the fingertips together, then circled and pressed his index finger over the tiny opening. After that he spread his fingers again and pressed firmly outward across the skin toward the rim.
He watched in fascination, not wanting to miss the slightest change.
‘Mm… ah!!!’ Qin Siyu cried out. He felt as though his soul had been pulled free of his body. Something long held inside him finally departed, leaving him impossibly light, as though he were floating among the clouds.
At that instant, Aston caught the fluid in his palm.
Qin Siyu stared vacantly, his waist weak and aching. He looked at his own unsteady, softened organ and wondered: So this was what he was supposed to do to make it return to normal?
Wasn’t he supposed to do housework?
Aston raised his palm in front of Qin Siyu’s eyes. ‘Is this the first time you’ve seen it?’
Qin Siyu: ‘…’
What was that?
Aston sniffed his palm. Seeing a droplet splashed on his wrist, he leaned forward, extended his tongue, and licked it away.
Qin Siyu: ‘…………’
He didn’t know what it was, but he felt unbearably ashamed.
Aston could scarcely hold out any longer himself. ‘I need to use the bathroom. Wait for me.’
He went into the bathroom and closed the door.
He unfastened his belt and undid his buttons.
Aston stared at his own painfully aroused organ, straining almost to the bursting point. After a long moment he lifted his left hand and slowly spread Qin Siyu’s semen over it, meticulously covering every part.
He became even more excited.
Aston gripped himself and felt a sensitivity unlike anything he’d experienced in the past ten years.
He looked up at the mirror and was startled by the frenzy in his own eyes. Instinctively he looked away.
But before long he looked at himself in the mirror again.
That wild look couldn’t be denied.
Looking into his own eyes, Aston thought: Kingsley, accept it. A man’s genitals can arouse you this much. You’ve become a deviant.
He moved slowly until he finally released himself.
For the first time in nineteen years, he’d felt pleasure like this. The entire world seemed to vanish.
Afterward came an immense emptiness.
The fluid already on his palm had been covered by a thick layer of his own. He spread that over himself too.
He knew everything had spun entirely out of control. He’d come using another man’s bodily fluids.
Back in the living room, Qin Siyu had hardly moved. He still leaned against the sofa, looking at the ceiling.
Aston went over, overwhelmed by affection, caught him by the nape again, and kissed him deeply.
Once again Qin Siyu couldn’t control himself.
Aston reached down with his right hand and began stroking him a second time.
Qin Siyu was so aroused he even raised his hips of his own accord, rubbing against Aston’s palm.
A cruelly playful streak surfaced in Aston. Supporting himself on the back of the sofa with one hand, he curved the thumb and index finger of the other into a ring wide enough for Qin Siyu to pass through. ‘Sean, move yourself against it.’
Qin Siyu could hardly bear any more. Obediently he kept lifting his hips, sliding through the ring of Aston’s fingers, in and out, rubbing again and again.
His gaze had lost all focus.
Aston changed his position. Leaning slightly forward, he laid his left palm flat about fifteen centimeters above that ring.
Now every time Qin Siyu thrust upward as far as he could, the tip touched Aston’s palm.
Or rather, it touched the pale fluid Aston had just ejaculated onto his own hand in the bathroom.
Each time Qin Siyu reached the highest point, the tip picked up a little of the fluid and drew it back with him, making faint wet sounds.
It stretched into white threads.
Qin Siyu, after all, had never learned how to do this. He tried for a long time without success, becoming more frantic and distressed until he was almost breaking down. ‘Kingsley… I can’t… I can’t… I can’t learn this…’
Aston’s voice remained steady and encouraging. ‘You can. You’re very clever.’
‘I can’t… I really can’t…’
So Aston helped him a little, by kissing him.
He leaned over, put one knee on the sofa, and entwined their tongues.
Sure enough, Qin Siyu grew more excited.
They kissed for a long time. It seemed he was only a little way from the end.
Aston drew back, looked into his face from very close, and said, ‘Open your eyes, Sean.’
‘…’ Qin Siyu opened his eyes and immediately met Aston’s beautiful, deep-blue gaze, like the sea.
A sudden heat flared through his lower abdomen. He groaned, and ejaculated again.
Aston’s palm was covered with another layer, Qin Siyu’s this time.
Qin Siyu panted heavily. Aston praised him: ‘Sean, good boy. You’ve learned.’
‘I—’
Aston used the handkerchief beside them to clean Qin Siyu, carried him to bed, and tucked the quilt around him. ‘Get some sleep. You’re truly exhausted. We can’t keep going.’
‘Mm.’ Qin Siyu looked at Aston, still thoroughly drunk. ‘Teacher. Mr. Aston.’
Being addressed out of nowhere as ‘Teacher’ and ‘Mr. Aston,’ Aston asked, ‘What?’ Qin Siyu said proudly, ‘I learn everything very quickly.’