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He arrived at Cecil's apartment, where Maurice admitted us, his face lighting up as he saw Gaston. He conducted us to the drawing room which was large and in the Louis Quinze style, and here we found the man whom we had come to see.

He rose up as we entered and, coming forward, kissed Gaston. He introduced me to him and I held out my hand; but he disdained such cold formality and embraced me with the greatest tenderness, pressing his lips to each of my cheeks in turn and saying, “I am so charmed to meet one of Gaston's English friends. But you must let me call you Charlie, as Gaston does, will you not?”

I stammered a polite yes, and soon we were talking to each other in an animated manner. He seemed to devote himself a great deal to me and I was afraid his attentions would arouse de Beaupre's jealousy, but such an idea never seemed to cross his mind.

After a time Cecil said, “What do you say to a visit to the theater this evening – there is a very nice thing at the Opera Comique just now. Shall we go?”

I looked at de Beaupre, referring the matter to him, but he replied, “Certainly, my mother knew where we were going, so it won't matter in the least if we are late.”

“Very well then, that settles it,” he said. “The thing now is to get the seats. I am very sorry Gaston to bother you, but Maurice is busy, so would you mind going? Charlie shall stay here and amuse me while you are gone.”

De Beaupre could not well refuse and in a few minutes departed on his errand. When he had gone, Cecil reclined on the couch and bade me draw my chair closer to him.

“I was at a ball last night and feel tired today. You must excuse me for lying down,” he said.

Soon his voice grew softer. His eyes dropped and gradually closed completely. He appeared to have fallen asleep.

In his movements, his smoking jacket had become drawn upwards, revealing the lower part of the fork of his trousers, withholding the fabulous treasures within. How I longed to touch them; I could do so by stretching my hand out, but could I dare to make the attempt?

If only I could be sure he would not awake, I would go so far. I gazed into his face, but to all eyes, he was sunk in slumber. Assured now, I put my fingers on his ankle. Still no movement, and feeling more sure, I moved my hand to his calf.

He stirred and I drew back, but he did not open his eyes and the only effect his motion had was to open his smoking jacket so that I could see his body more fully.

My courage soon returned and I let my hands wander gently over his chest. The ripple of muscles under my touch thrilled me, but my heart was not bold enough to investigate further.

Cecil's sleep was so quiet that I left off watching his face. I did not see his eyes open; but as my hand hovered about the crevice of his belly, it was suddenly caught in his. My blood froze at being thus discovered, and I trembled in mortal terror.

He only laughed and said, “Oh you naughty boy! What have you been doing while I was asleep?”

I hardly dared look at him, but when I did, I was overwhelmed by the melting passion he displayed in every feature and my fright evaporated. Though I formed the conclusion at the time, perhaps he feigned sleep to induce me in this act.

“Proceed,” he said. “Imagine I am still asleep, and I will forgive you entirely.”

My blood grew hot at this invitation, and he pressed my hand towards his thighs, hinting to me in the most unmistakable terms to continue. All that Blackie had told me of Cecil came into my mind with a rush, and here at last was the opportunity that I had been anxiously awaiting; and the chance now offered itself to become acquainted at first hand with his masterful charms.

I hesitated no longer, but slowly advanced by hand towards Cecil's cock. I found no obstruction in doing so and suddenly a tremor passed through me as my fingers touched his warm belly and became entangled in the long, soft growth of hair thereon. I groped blindly about in search of further discoveries, and my investigation was successfully met as I felt his cock jump into my hand. It was large and exceptionally well formed.

The next instant I almost gave a cry as I discovered a golden ring looping through the head of Cecil's cock. Cecil looked at my expression of astonishment and smiled slyly.

“Society X!” I exclaimed.

“Ah ha!” he laughed. “I can see Gaston has been telling tales.”

I blushed, not wishing to betray my friend's confidence any further.

“Oh, come now Charlie,” said Cecil, moving closer. “There's no need to worry.” As he spoke, he guided my hand to his wondrous cock. I could not keep myself from looking, and he allowed me to lean forward and feast my eyes on the novel spectacle of his penis ring.

“We call it a Prince Albert Ring,” he said.

“Yes, yes,” I gasped. “Gaston told us about Sir Henry's ring.”

The idea of piercing my own penis sent exhilarated chills of fear and passion down my spine, electrifying my entire being. I was lost to all but the wondrous interest of the moment, and presently I was possessed of a desire to kiss that miraculous ring around his cock.

“Ah Charlie,” Cecil laughed as I pressed my head between his thighs. “I see you have learned more than Latin at school!”

I couldn't answer, for I had taken his formidable cock between my lips and tasted the metal of the gold mingled with the delicious saltiness of his skin. I tickled and nibbled his balls and reached for his anus, lightly teasing the hole with my fingertip. Soon I felt it contract slightly under my touch. His cock lurched, the golden hoop made a tinkling sound against my teeth. I felt Cecil sensuously rubbing my haunches and lightly seeking my own asshole.

As I began to suck harder and harder on Cecil's cock, he pressed my head down so that I might take his member deeper and deeper still in my mouth. All the while he began plunging his finger in and out of my anus, producing the most surging thrusts of pleasure throughout my body.

Just as he was about to spend, I attempted to lift my head from between his open thighs so that I might watch his fountain of spunk issue forth. I was curious to see if the ring would change his emission at all, but Cecil pushed my head down more forcefully, and I took his load in my mouth. His come spurted into my cheeks and trickled warmly down my throat like heated honey.

After a few moments, Cecil had recovered and he finally said, “You are a dear child, Charlie; I was ready at once to take you into my friendship as a comrade of Gaston's, but you would have won your way there without his aid. Never fear for him, my heart is large enough to hold you both – and your other friend too, if he had been here, as well. Now it is my turn, and you shall let me regale myself on your body. I am dying to do so, for one with so loveable a face, must, I am sure, have an equally enchanting form.”

“But will not Gaston be back in a few minutes?” I asked.

“It does not matter. We will prepare a little surprise for him. But tell me, has my young friend ever mentioned me to you?” he went on.

“Oh yes, he has often told me about you, and what a good friend you have been to him,” I replied equivocally.

“You little rogue,” he cried, “I mean has he ever given you a particular account of his visits to me? But I am not fair in asking you. I do not wish you to betray your friend's confidence. It is quite sufficient that I know you and have you with me now. Come with me, and we shall see what we shall see when Gaston returns.”

He took me to his bedroom where he helped me undress, and laid me on the bed.

“Beautiful! Charming!” he exclaimed rapturously, as with burning eyes, he proceeded to devour my body. “You are an angel and I shall feel under an eternal debt to Gaston for giving me this privilege of your acquaintance. My only sorrow is that I will soon have to say farewell to you, but I hope to see you again, when you come to stay with your friend another time.”