5. ITALIA/RUTHENIA 15th Century #10
Of course, he understands and does not judge or condemn me for my refusal.
Damek possesses the gentle soul of Aeneas, a man of limitless compassion and a reluctance to harm even the slightest creature.
A man, as a boy, who once risked his young life to attempt to save the offspring of the Erymanthian Boar, a beast that would have torn us apart and devoured us without hesitation.
“I think it is time we returned to the village,” Damek sighed, all hope for finding his brother gone.
“But, we could try again on the forest’s southern edge, closer to the northern shores of the Black Sea.”
“No, my love, my friend,” Damek said as he approached the Romani witch and embraced him. “Dawyd is lost to me. I see that now. I— we have done all we can to find him. Though my heart is broken, I must accept this. I failed him. I am nothing, useless.”
The brawny red-haired man bent his head down, burying it into the Romani witch’s shoulder and sobbed. Guttural moans of despair emanating from deep within him escaped his mouth.
Hearing his beloved cry and knowing he felt such anguish, along with an unwarranted sense of internal contempt for himself, pierced the Romani witch’s heart like a dagger.
Taking Damek firmly by the arms, the Romani witch pulled him off his shoulder and held the man in front of him.
Looking directly into Damek’s tear-streaked, sorrow-filled face, he said, “You have failed no one. You would have pulled the moon down from the night sky to find your brother. This is the Wheel of Destiny at work. Fate can be cruel; we both know this. We did our best, and it was not good enough. But we tried! By Hecate, how we tried! And that counts for something.”
The Romani witch drew Damek back in tightly, holding him close to his heart, sensing his beloved’s turmoil and offering him comfort in his embrace.
It had not escaped his notice that Damek had called him “my love” moments ago with a genuine ardour despite the melancholy oppressing him.
The words echoed in the Romani witch’s mind; they were finally united in all ways.
Well, almost entirely; while their hearts and souls had intertwined, there remained one final barrier.
They had yet to experience sexual intimacy.
However, the Romani witch felt this was not the right time for such actions; this moment called for tenderness and sharing his strength of will with a despondent man.
Damek, however, saw things differently. Leaning close, he whispered tantalizingly into the Romani witch’s ear, “Make love to me.”
The Romani witch was taken aback. “What? Here?! Damek, you are distraught, and I wish to comfort you, but—”
“No, my love, this is the right time. And the place is anywhere with you. I want you to take me and make me whole, or as whole as I can be, with such a wound upon my heart. I want to escape this misery, and I want to—no, I need to feel a sense of peace. You can give me that. Please.”
A frown creased the Romani witch’s brow as he shook his head, a subtle yet powerful gesture that revealed his troubled mind.
“I will not take advantage of this situation, your sorrow,” the Romani witch sighed lamentably; he gently moved Damek off him and stepped a few paces back. “I want us to be together because you genuinely desire all of me, not just my body, nor as a mere comfort for misery.”
Though his words spoke true to him, the Romani witch struggled with having to say them.
He longed for true intimacy with Damek, a connection of love and passion where he could feel the essence of Aeneas flowing into him.
He believed that using intimacy to escape grief would not bring true bliss; their lovemaking should be a celebration of desire and joy, not a panacea for heartache.
“I do want all of you!” Damek bellowed with fervour, his voice echoing through the air and startling a flock of birds that took flight from the branches above, their wings fluttering wildly as they scattered into the azure sky.
“How have you not seen this? I fell in love with you months ago.
As we walked through the forest, I watched you breathe, and knowing my heart did beat in time with yours, we breathed in harmony.
I would lose myself in your seductive, dark eyes every day, though I am equally enamoured by the kindness always reflected in them.
“Your lithe body, though marked by strong hands and a solid back—a form that has endured labour despite its suppleness—stirs my passion, especially when we bathe in the rivers and streams together.
Oh, how I long to take you, but I have held back, always, feeling selfish and wicked for desiring pleasure while my brother was most assuredly facing terror, doom, and death.
“I want you now because I want all of you! I need it, desire it, and deserve it. I am pained, yes, but I will show the great darkness that thrives in this forest that it is not unmatched! Love and goodness still exist in this place, and you and I will be its shining beacon!”
A broad smile illuminated the face of the Romani witch. Damek’s words revealed his true feelings, and now they shared love for one another equally; truly, it was no longer a one-sided romance.
As Damek began to remove his clothing, he looked down into the dark chestnut eyes of the Romani witch, grinned, and playfully commanded, “Follow my lead.”
With all doubt in the past, the Romani witch shed his garments fervently, each layer that slipped away revealing him in all his raw beauty. That perfect blend of masculine and feminine features.
As both men stood naked before each other, Damek timidly said, “I have never been with anyone. No man in the village felt— right . Not enough for me to risk revealing my true nature. You, my beloved, feel right.”
We will forever feel right, my love. “Come to me,” the Romani witch said in a soft, breathy voice.
His eyes burned fiery as they roamed over Damek’s exposed pale flesh, taking in the sight of his muscular body dotted with freckles peeking through the thick red fur pelt that covered much of his massive chest, arms, and legs.
Though all the bodies that hosted Aeneas’ soul mimicked his original physique, characterized by his signature red hair, their skin tones varied depending on the region where each new version of his beloved was born.
In southern areas, his skin took on a bronze hue, reminiscent of his appearance when the Romani witch first met him.
In northern regions, he often had a ruddy complexion or milky and fair skin.
To the Romani witch, all these variations were divine pigments, though he preferred the shades that most closely resembled the original bronze tone Aeneas had inherited from his Egyptian mother; the more exact the host body looked to his eternal love, the better.
The large appendage that typically swung between Damek’s thighs was now firm and sticking straight out, and the foreskin pulled back, revealing the delectable acorn-shaped head already leaking from excited anticipation; it was a testament to the man’s undeniable arousal.
Wasting no more time, the Hutsul moved swiftly toward the Romani witch, pulling their bodies close together. He spat into his palm before wrapping his fist around his lover’s cock. Both men felt an unquenchable desire for the other.
The Romani witch arched his body, tilting his head back as he surrendered to sexual bliss, a throaty moan expressing his elation. Damek tightened his grip, stroking with a fervour that sent tremors through his lover.
Only everything was happening too quickly for the Romani witch, for the speed and pressure Damek was applying was building fast, putting him on the edge of an explosion, his milky seed threatening to erupt between them.
“Take your time, my love, or I fear my vitality will escape too soon,” the Romani witch smirked impishly.
Damek nodded and slowed his motion, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead from concentrating so hard on providing pleasure to his lover.
The two men kissed with a passion that went straight to their souls. Their tongues intertwined in a spirited dance, each movement filled with an almost desperate yearning, as if they were trying to consume one another completely: craving, feeling, tasting.
“I want you—now!” the Romani witch growled.
Taking control, he moved Damek’s hand off his throbbing member and bent down before him, placing his lover’s thick cock between his full lips.
With unbound enthusiasm, he sucked hard, bobbing his head with absolute joy.
His lust aside, he wanted to make Damek happy, give him as much pleasure as he could, and take his mind off the guilt of his brother’s loss.
The Romani witch swirled his tongue around the reddened cockhead, tasting his lover’s distinct flavour as the fluid dripped from the small opening.
Sweet and salty at once. He caressed the soft skin of Damek’s heavy sac, dangling so tantalizingly; the Romani witch relished every moment of feeling the velvety softness of the fine red hairs as they lightly brushed against his fingertips.
Damek quivered as his more experienced lover worshiped his body with both skill and enthusiasm.
“Yes, oh yes, my love,” he gasped, his voice a breathy whisper of unbridled joy as waves of pleasure washed over him.
With wide eyes and an open mouth, Damek shook with excitement.
No one had ever touched him in such a way before, and he craved more, wanting to go further.
“Take me,” he panted, “I want to be under you, filled with you. Teach me how to love you in all ways.”
The Romani witch pulled his mouth off Damek’s cock and gently asked, “Are you sure? It may be painful at first.”
“I am no stranger to pain,” Damek declared, his eyes locking onto his lover’s flushed cheeks, radiating a mix of desire and vulnerability. “Take me.”