Erotic short. Nicholas tries to concentrate on something other than the butler’s hands.
Explicit erotic short, requested. Contains butler/employer, hand kink, handjobs, teasing, secret relationship, public arousal.
It’s becoming more and more difficult for Nicholas to concentrate, sitting between his father and Mr Banks who owns the haberdasher’s, as the conversation seems to go around and around and around again about the apparently infinite varieties of ribbon available in these modern times.
He really can’t tell if everyone else is being polite or if they’re genuinely invested, because his father keeps asking questions, and his mother and sister keep injecting their own opinions about fashion trends, the ribbons they like themselves, the ribbons popular with the serving girls or with their friends.
Nicholas doesn’t think he’s ever spent more than two seconds looking at a ribbon in his life, and he certainly doesn’t think he could name any varieties of them.
In fairness to him, he’s distracted.
Mitchell is doing it on purpose, he thinks, because much of the time he stands with his hands behind his back, but he’s started standing with them folded in front of his chest as he looks forward, and even through the tight white fabric he can see the muscle in Mitchell’s hands, see how broad they are, and even if he can’t see them, he knows exactly how rough those palms are, the callouses that are lined along the bases of his fingers, the side of his thumb.
Mitchell is smiling distantly, the slightest curve of his lips that no one else notices but that is driving Nicholas utterly mad.
“What do you think, Nicky, darling?” his mother asks.
Nicholas is thinking about how he might have a vague interest in ribbon if he was watching the butler’s hands masterfully tie his cock up in some, and that he can’t really voice that thought at the dinner table.
“I’d love to hear more about your trade in buttons, Mr Banks,” he says distantly.
Mr Banks, with renewed spirits, claps his own hands together, and lets out a delighted little laugh. “Ah, well! There we come into some quite fascinating trends indeed, Mr Young!”
Later, Mitchell will pull him aside when Nicholas follows him down into the wine cellar, will splay one big, calloused hand over Nicholas’ belly, his chest, and with the other will squeeze around his cock and pull him off until it weeps white over his skin, until Nicholas gasps out desperate cries for more, for Mitchell to stop, to fuck him instead, but to please keep on with his hands, keep touching, grasp and grab at Nicholas, to touch him all over with them.
For now, he can’t even see them, only catches the barest glimpse of Mitchell’s bare wrist when he stands from the wall to pour more wine and in lifting the bottle his sleeve recedes somewhat. The sliver of skin seems tremendously pale and vulnerable, and Nicholas wishes he could rise form the table and grasp Mitchell by the gloved hand, wishes he could lay his mouth to that exposed flesh and kiss it between the edge of glove and jacket, to suck a bruising mark there, so that everyone might see it on the next reveal.
His prick is hard in his trousers, and he presses his knees tightly together as Banks says, “And there are some beautiful French enamels, of course, very delicately painted, such lovely ornamentation packed onto such a tiny canvas — ”
Mitchell refolds his hands, so that his left is on top of the right instead of the other way, as he returns to his place. His index finger begins to stroke a subtle line against the back of his hand, slow, controlled, rhythmic, and Nicholas imagines feeling that touch against his prick.
His underclothes are beginning to be not only uncomfortably tight, but slightly damp.
“Another bottle, sir?” Mitchell asks his father.
“Please, Mitchell.”
Mitchell turns at an angle when he stands at the counter so that Nicholas can see the way he firmly grasps the neck of the bottle with one hand and pulls out the cork with the other.
“Fascinating, Mr Banks,” Nicholas croaks out, and doesn’t tear his gaze away from the wine flowing into a new glass.
Request:
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