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The Gift of a Goat

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"Tonight will be special," Tussun had promised him. "Tonight I will show you pleasures such as you have never known before."

Thomas did not know whether to be aroused or alarmed. He had heard whispered tales of glorious wickedness, of how it was when three -- or more -- men came together in the night, to revel in carnal license while heady, stupefying incense smouldered and lamp-light flickered over naked skin. Had heard, too, of warlords' banquets where the Daughters of Delight danced, clothed at first and naked later, for their audience. Had heard hushed voices speak of elixirs that --

Thomas was no monk, and in Tussun he had found his match in love and lust: but still, he was not quite sure if Tussun's promise boded well for him.

When Tussun came to Thomas's room in the palace, he came alone, and if he carried any gift for Thomas it was small and easily concealed beneath his robes.

"Lie down with me, Tho'mas," he said softly, his hand on Thomas's shoulder, and Thomas dropped down to the fat cushions of his bed, Tussun folding down elegantly at his side. Tussun's mouth tasted of honey and roses, and his skin was clean and cool.

"Tell me of these ... pleasures you wish to share with me," said Thomas once they had kissed.

"Since the time of the Pharoahs," said Tussun, reaching into his robe, "our people have known how to prolong a man's strength." He opened his hand, and showed Thomas what he held.

"What is it?"

"You wish to know what it is made of?" teased Tussun, hooking his broad thumb through the leathery ring, "or would you rather learn its use?"

Thomas felt himself harden -- harden more, for Tussun's kiss had sent his blood straight to his prick -- at the heat in his friend's voice.

"I had rather you teach me," he said.

Tussun's hands went to the front of his robe, parting it: he wore nothing beneath. Thomas would have helped him undress himself, but Tussun held his gaze like a challenge, and he sat still and watched as Tussun pushed the dark sinewy ring down the length of his own full, heavy prick, his breath hissing as it lodged around the base of his shaft.

"Now, Tho'mas," said Tussun, with something raw and rasping in his voice, "let me teach you all the things a man can do, if he does not spill himself at the first touch of his lover, or at the sight of his lover's ecstasy, or at the sound of his lover's cry." And he grinned at Thomas.

Thomas could feel the heat in his own face, for he had spent too swiftly on more than one occasion, though always with considerable provocation. Tussun's smile was not that of a man bent on vengeance, though. He was smiling like a man bestowing a gift upon a much-loved friend.

"This will keep you from your pleasure?" asked Thomas, smiling back and gesturing at Tussun's full prick. Was it fuller, darker than before?

"My pleasure will be slower, and longer," said Tussun. "And yours, Tho'mas: yours will be manifold, as much as I can give you." And he bore Thomas down upon the soft bed.

Thomas's first climax came with Tussun's mouth on him: his second with Tussun deep inside him, and Tussun stilled only long enough for Thomas to catch his breath before he began to thrust again, deeper, into Thomas's relaxing body. His prick was as hard as ever, and his mouth as hot and sweet, and his smile was full of unholy joy. "Do you like my gift, Tho'mas?" he murmured against Thomas's ear.

Thomas shivered at the sensation. "It's ... impressive," he managed. "Perhaps I can make one for myself."

"I will send you," said Tussun, with a leisurely thrust, "a fine goat."

"A what?" Thomas lost his rhythm, lurching awkwardly as Tussun withdrew.

Tussun's prick bobbed against Thomas's arse: he was laughing. "Ah, Tho'mas, I knew it would surprise you!"

"A goat?" said Thomas blankly, letting Tussun push his legs wider, enjoying the slow burning slide as Tussun entered him again.

"We take the goat," said Tussun, in the tone of a man explaining how to load and fire a rifle, "and when it is slaughtered we cut loose the whole of the eyelid, in a circle. And then it is soaked, and dried, and soaked again in sweet oil, until it is strong enough to last through many nights." He pulled almost all the way out, then pushed back, hard: and Thomas rocked into it, taking Tussun's cock still deeper and gasping as the head of it rubbed against that place inside.

"The tightness of the ring keeps a man hard for many hours, and holds his seed within him. And the, the eyelashes," and Tussun brought his finger up to trace, careful and delicate and tickling, the line of Thomas's own, "are said to give a woman great pleasure."

"I'm not a woman," said Thomas dryly, when he trusted himself to speak again.

"Nor I," said Tussun, with a demonstrative thrust: and they laughed together.