Coming Together: Neat
Leget's Despair
by
Rachel Green
Will Belegon
editor
Leget's Despair
Rachel Green
Copyright © 2010 Rachel Green
All digital rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.
Cover art © 2010 Alessia Brio
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
A Coming Together: Neat Production
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Coming Together: Neat is an ebook-only line of novella-length (10K-50K word) single titles edited by Will Belegon. As with all Coming Together publications, diversity is the keyword. Thus, all colors and flavors of erotic fiction are welcome.
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Leget's Despair
Lancelot wiped a tear from the younger man's face with the edge of a thumb and put it to his lips, tasting the salt for a fleeting moment before it mixed with his saliva and vanished, a part of him for evermore. "What ails ye?" he said, his voice soft with concern.
Leget grinned and looked up into the knight's blue eyes. "'Tis nothing, my lord," he said. "Merely a touch of regret that our time together is coming to an end so soon."
"Are you not pleased to be so close to our goal?" Lancelot shifted, drawing his cloak about him, hiding his pale-skinned muscles from sight for a moment or two. "You have saved much from our journeying together, enough to buy yourself an apprenticeship as a squire."
"And what then, my lord?" Leget braced his legs and raised himself to a more seated position. "Must I squire for a knight who sees beauty only between the legs of a maid or at the bottom of a flagon? What of the wonders of the ancients? The carvings on the walls of Sulis? The mysteries of Avalon? Am I to forget the way of the world?"
"Not all knights are such boors," said Lancelot, laughing. "You do us all a disservice, speaking thus. You might get to serve Parsifal on his quest for the grail, or Gawain as he serves the king himself."
"I want to serve you, my lord. Why can I not choose for whom I squire?"
"Because I am not at court." Lancelot cast about for his dagger and, finding it, dug into the ashes of the fire until he found the glow of embers. He began to feed dry grass and twigs until it was strong enough to burn in earnest. All the while Leget watched the shift of the cloak, visualising the sinew and muscles beneath as he felt his cock harden once more.
"I could follow you, Lord. I could buy a horse with the gold instead of an apprenticeship. We could remain together."
"Have I not told you a hundred times already I ride alone?" Lancelot turned, his eyes blazing but the argument died on his lips as he saw the lance Leget held between his legs. He turned back to the fire long enough to set a couple of logs to it. "I swear by Almighty God," he said as he returned to the arms of his would-be squire, "you will be my salvation and destruction."
"But ye shall not be damned for love, my lord." Leget reached across to snake his arm around Lancelot's hips. "Not when there are lips to worship the perfection that God created in you." He drew Lancelot closer. For all his youth, Leget was a big man, taller by a head than the knight and twice as broad. A farmer's son, he had honed his physique by manual labour and had earned a fair few silvers in feats of strength at the villages they passed through. He was, quite literally, as strong as an ox and had proved it countless times.
With Lancelot, though, Leget was as gentle as the brush of a butterfly's wings. His lips on the knight's cock were softer than the fur of a rabbit and sweeter than the mead at the Abbey of St Francis. Lancelot's head tipped back as his eyes closed but Leget lowered him to the ground as if he weighed no more than a quiver. Lancelot paid no heed to the twigs and bracken beneath his cloak, his mind fastened upon the youth's ministrations to his needs. "You were truly sent to me by God himself," he said, the words coming in staccato gasps with each roll of his buttocks. "I have been a faithful servant and been rewarded on Earth."
Leget took the whole of his shaft into his mouth, sucking the salty fluid as it dribbled drop by magical drop from the tip. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked, eliciting a series of moans from the seasoned knight. His eyes flicked up along the muscled chest but Lancelot's head was tipped back, his auburn locks pressed into the ground as his spine straightened in preparation for orgasm. Lancelot bunched one fist into Leget's hair, the other clawing into the soft earth of the forest clearing.