The Book of the Blue House

My VeryBrothers

Matteo

The Blue Priesthood shares a kinship with the Blue Mages of the White Tower for, long ago, the two were the same, and one branched off into a mainly magical order while the other branched into the primarily sexual, though each has always considered the other part of the same tree.

- Notes on the Ancient Orders,Marataton Revarum, 789

Matteo stayed until he knew this was beyond him. He had hoped that, at last, he was so used to being in Hyrum House he would loosen up and finally participate in what he’d seen his new friends going off to do, heard in the rooms when the doors were closed, or passed when the doors were open, not even being able to look in. He had been sure that, after four weeks he would be ready, and when Brian came into the room with Quinton and then later Cal followed, Matteo thought that, he who was no stranger to sex, who had been given to a stranger when he was nine years old to pay for his father’s drinking tab, could easily withstand this. But he felt himself becoming shy and feeling strange, and he had excused himself from their company.

“Was I not to his liking?” the man who had come to them asked.

“That isn’t it at all,” Cal said. “Matteo is new. He thought, I believe, that this would be the night he won his novice’s robe.”

Cal did not blame Matteo for anything. When he had come to the Blue House, it had been almost a year before he’d given up the celibacy he’d never been able to have. He hadn’t been curious about or desirous for anything, so much had been thrust upon him so quickly as a child. The work in the Blue House usually performed at least a double duty. This night would fulfill this man’s fantasies, and it would also be more experience for Brian as he moved from being a novice to his ordination on the Twelfth Day of Wheelturn, and for Cal and Quinton it was their religious duty as well as their pleasure.

As winter set in, and Wheelturn approached, the Temple was filled with more men than usual, and open to their visits for longer hours as well. Always the Black Door was lit by torches to indicate it was open, and always one could come to the Black Door and expect to meet a priest. The White Door was lit as well to welcome strangers who needed a roof over their heads, a place to sleep and a meal, but at this time of year the Red Door of the main entrance to the sanctuary was lit as well, for more devotees came to practice the Rite of Communion and twice as many priests as usual stood on duty.

The lunch gatherings in their apartments were less frequent in December, and Conn saw less of Derek too. Conn wasn’t jealous but he also wasn’t foolish. He didn’t ask for descriptions or more knowledge of what Derek was doing when he was gone and so for him, Derek wasn’t really doing it, or at least, to him what Derek did was more like school work, or the chores Conn had done around the farm back home.

Matteo wound his way up to the fourth floor where Conn was staying with Sara and Nialla, Obala and John, and Conn, looking up from the book he was reading said, “I thought you were—”

“Not ready.” was all Matteo said. “Not quite ready, not quite yet.”

Downbelow, Quinton’s heart had given a little and surprising lurch when Matteo had left. He was ready to be with him, ready to introduce him into everything. For Quinton sex had been a revelation. It was a relief from the pain and frailty, the looks of pity he had known. The time of sex was when he felt beautiful. He felt worshiped now as this strange man, the client to their temple knelt before him, slurping on his cock, pulling his mouth expertly up and down on Quinton and licking him, murmuring in almost stupid worship, “Yes, It’s so big. It’s such a big cock. It’s just what I needed,” his words slurred because his mouth was filled with it.Sometimes this was what men needed, to just get down on their knees and worship a cock, or just worship a whole body. There were evenings or mornings when Quinton had just lain in bed and felt himself getting bigger and harder under the wet ministrations of a man’s mouth, a man who had only wanted to do this, who had only dreamt of having a cock in his mouth, of slavering over balls and holding them. He lifted Quinton’s legs up, and thrust his tongue into his asshole.

“What a pretty ass. What a beautiful ass.” he was saying, as he ate Quinton and Quinton, moaning on the bed, accepted his worship.

What the man wanted he could have in the Blue House for free, though a contribution was expected, and though one had to come humbly to ask for this from concecrated priests. In a brothel it would have costs hundreds of crowns and who knew what diseases you’d walk away with? While the man’s tongue was darting inside of Quinton and Quinton’s eyes were closed at the pleasure, feeling his tongue slurp back up, take in his balls and then began to suck away on his cock again. The man was moaning while Brian rhythmically fucked him from behind.

“So amazing, so amazing” the man murmured, and Brian, kissing the back of his neck while he steadily fucked him agreed, “It is a amazing.”

Cal had said that the best part of an orgy was you didn’t have to be king of it, you didn’t have to be in every element, you could watch, and they had all known of this man’s coming visit, how he liked to see them, and so Cal hadn’t shaved for three days, was looking scraggly and sexy, and his copper hair, unwashed, was a little darker now. Quinton thought how he might crawl into Cal’s bed along with Gabriel tonight. Cal had the most lovely, lightly muscled milky body, and the largest penis, like an arc, fleshy and long that he was stroking now, his green eyes a little dimmed with lust. Cal crossed the room and milked himself and now, with a staggering breath, he began to come, his semen arcing up across the room, lit by the lamps, drizzling Quinton’s belly and chest, running into his neck and dribbling down the sheets of the pillow.

“Oh, God!” the man exclaimed, and now he pushed Quinton up and Quinton felt the pressure blunt and sharp at turns, and then fulfilling, of the man entering him. Of that cock sliding inside of him and the man passing on the rhythmic fucking he was receiving from Brian. They moved together, a three part engine, but at that moment Brian made a startled noise and Quinton saw over his man’s shoulder, Brian’s face change as he came.

“Come inside of me,” Quinton growled in a voice that almost shocked him.

“Your loads feel so good inside of me,” the man rejoiced, eyes closed, while Brian braced against him, staggered by his orgasm, and this stranger fucked Quinton faster and Quinton watched Brian’s face slackening, his breath catching as he kept coming, as the orgasm ended, as he was still in the man, his cock still fucking as the man was still fucking Quinton.

It wasn’t long before he came and Quinton felt the slick burst of seed inside of him, felt the man and the semen slipping out of him, was surprised by how hard he still was, was surprised when Cal came and gently, as if he was taking a throne, sat down on Quinton, engulfing his cock, and rode him him until Quinton’s body staggered as he felt his balls lurching, his body seizing, himself shooting inside of Cal, until they were all collapsed and quiet, naked and content, slick with sweat and other things in the room that was filled with the smell of sex and smoking incense from the bronze pot on the old table.