He slapped me playfully on the shoulder.
“I don’t suppose ’tis gold, but she wouldn’t let me look!She says I gotta bring you sometime, and we can go through it together.”
Interesting.
“Sure.”My forehead wrinkled.“Wait a second!Ain’t Trick entertainin’ right now?”
Trick had been taking a break from her whoring, but when we’d got back from riding out, one of her regular clients had been in the parlor, and his eyes had about popped from his head to see Trick in her masculine get-up.He’d made a very polite request for a couple of hours with her, and Trick had agreed after doubling her price like the shrewd businesswoman she was.
Oscar chuckled.“Well now, she did have Mr.Clark in her room, but he didn’t seem to mind watchin’ her dress me in these fine things.”
My chin dropped.“Well.”
“Didn’t take very long, and he was only sittin’ on her bed and lookin’.Trick figured ‘twould make his visit extra special to watch us.”
I thought back to my days visiting cathouses, and, yeah, I supposed if something similar had happened, featuring a young man of Oscar’s looks and delicacy, I probably would have enjoyed watching, too.I reckoned a lot of men were more open about certain things than society at large had us figured for.
I grinned, my gaze running o’er Oscar in his seductive ensemble.
“I suppose that makes sense.Who wouldn’t want to look at you gettin’ outfitted in all this finery, you pretty poppet.Long as he stayed on that bed and didn’t come near you.”
Oscar grinned, stretching and bending this way and that, so I could see the way the fabric encased him so perfectly, his small brown nipples peeking o’er the edge of the boned corset.
“Oh no, Mr.Clark stayed right where Trick told him to.I think he likes bein’ ordered around, ye see,” Oscar said.“Like I do.”
“Oh,” I said.“Well, that’s fine, then.”
“Do you like the way I look?”Oscar said, reaching his hands toward the ceiling and arching his back so’s I could appreciate him.
“Oh, Oscar,” I said, gliding my hands along his hips and up the sides of the basque, my fingers trembling with the pleasure of it.“’Course I do,” I said, breathing hard.“You look…you look so charmin’ and like a perfect gift that I’m gonna unwrap and do terrible, vile things to.”
Oscar shivered and rocked his bottom against my thighs, gasping.“Jimmy, that’s all I want.”
I tugged him against me, then ran my hands up his back and found his mouth with mine, taking him over and making him pant and moan.He tasted of mint and chocolate, and I wondered who’d been feeding him this time.
“You been…eatin’ chocolate…” I murmured, between hearty and desperate kisses.
Oscar huffed a laugh, and I truly loved that sound from him.“Yes, sir.”
I slid a hand under the laced edge of his drawers, and slipped it underneath to cup his smooth buttock, as he clenched and rubbed up against me.
“And who gave it to you?Mr.Clark?”
“Well, Jimmy, ye see,” Oscar panted, “he had all sorts of goodies that he’d…brought for Trick, and he…and Trick thought I ought to have some.”
I grunted with mild displeasure.
“What was I supposed to do?”Oscar panted, pulling back to frown at me.“Decline?”
I grinned.“A good boy would have said ‘No, thank you.’”
Oscar stared at me.I supposed he was trying to figure out whether I was being serious.He gave me a wry grin and shrugged.
“Well, then, I guess I ain’t a very good boy.”
I slid my hand out of his bloomers and yanked them down, causing another gasp from Oscar as his eyes flew wide and his cock bounced free of the silk, looking especially fetching as it rose against the lower edge of the corset.
“Oh, fuck,” I said, my own eyes going wide at the way he looked, with the peignoir falling off his narrow shoulders and the bloomers under his balls—a creature that was the perfect mix of masculine and feminine, so divine it made my cock weep.“You are just perfect, Oscar Yates.My perfect boy.Naughty and brave and free and so, so,very good.”
