Squidboy Part Three

Part Three

When we kissed, it was as though all the walls around me shattered, every wall of every room on earth so that every man, woman, and child could look in and see me. Even the tentacles that had strangely emboldened me did not strengthen my resolve, but shied away from Sir Victor, responding to my trepidation by shrivelling up and tucking themselves away as best they could. I had never felt so vulnerable. So exposed. I trembled as his tongue slipped into my mouth and pressed against mine, felt a shiver as his hands curled around my hair, and I let out a gasp as he pressed a hand firmly against my cheek.

"Is this alright?" he asked me, obviously aware of my sudden shyness.

I found the strength to answer him. "More than alright," I told him, but my voice betrayed me.

"What's wrong?" he asked me.

"Nothing," I replied, but I found that when I looked into his eyes there was something in them that reassured me enough that I could explain my nervousness. "It's just, I've never been with a man before, not really anyway, and you're...well, you're perfect, and I don't want to ruin it by being terrible."

He laughed gently, and I smiled awkwardly, not sure if he was laughing with me or at me. "You couldn't possibly be terrible," he told me, "you're absolutely perfect."

And then he kissed me again. This time, though I felt my nerves shaking, I felt my shyness giving way to something else, something primal. I kissed him back, letting my tongue slide into his open mouth and touch his tongue. As I did, I began to unbutton his vest, and when I was finished, I pulled the garment off of him and tossed it aside. I began to untuck his shirt and unbutton his suspenders.

"Slow down," he said, smiling, "there's no need to rush."

I let out a deep breath as I suddenly realized my heart was racing. I was breathing so quickly it was a wonder I hadn't passed out. He kissed me again, but this time his lips worked their magic on my neck. There was some sort of button there, like the switch on a lightbulb, that managed to turn me on in ways I couldn't have imagined. I felt myself becoming hard, and my tentacles became emboldened again. I craned my head back and let out a low moan that harmonized with the thrum of the tentacles' song. I hadn't even realized they'd begun to hum again, but their vibrations were so powerful the chandelier had begun to rattle. I felt Sir Victor's teeth upon my neck, just playful little nibbles at first that sent jolts of pleasure rippling through me, then harder, nearly hard enough to break the skin. I grasped his hands and tightened my grip on them as I felt the thrill of intermingled pain and pleasure.

I deftly unbuttoned my shirt. Sir Victor took that as a cue to move down from my neck, slowly working his way down my clavicle to my chest, until he was sucking at my nipple, and biting at that too. I almost cried out, but it wasn't just painful. I pressed my hands against his and leaned in against him, silently urging him to bite me harder. He did, and I let out another moan of pleasure. I cast aside my shirt, letting it fall to the floor, as Sir Victor made his way lower still, kissing and licking at my stomach. His beard tickled the sensitive skin of my abdomen, and I found myself giggling like a schoolboy. He looked up at me and smiled. Those eyes of his, piercing through my vulnerability as easily as a hot knife cutting through butter. My fears melted, so that by the time he began unbuttoning my trousers, I was silently urging him to hurry.

As he undid my trousers, I relieved him of his shirt. His chest was broad, muscular, and boasted a modest layer of dark hair. It trailed down from his abdomen and down toward his trousers. I followed the trail downward with my eyes, and began unbuttoning his pants. By then, he'd already managed to unbutton mine, and without a moment's pause, he pulled them down to my ankles.

On his knees, he pressed his hand against my cotton underwear, feeling my ass with his hands, pressing his fingers against my hole. I groaned with pleasure, and the tentacles writhed violently, whipping Sir Victor's bare chest and curling around his wrists.