Shivers run down my body as I feel his lips, so soft and gentle, touch my neck. He brings his lips up to my ear and asks if I would like to come back to his place for the night. I turn around and look at him as I pull him closer to me and kiss him; his hands tighten around me as he pushes himself onto me. The whole journey home we can’t keep our hands off each other. As we get to his door he doesn’t even let me open it, instead pinning me to the wall, pushing his lips onto mine, feeling his tongue on mine, his hands all over me, pushing me through the door. Once inside, the roles change as I pin him to the wall, kissing him, taking his shirt off to reveal that ripped body, kissing down his neck to his chest and his stomach, slowly undoing his jeans as I feel him getting harder against me. Slowly I move down his body to his bulging cock, and am shocked at how big it is. Rubbing him through his boxers, I feel his hardness and slowly begin to kiss down again, this time sliding his. Shifting into second he followed the path slowly, getting lost in the surreal perfection that lay ahead of him. The lane was wide, bordered on each side by 3ft limestone walls. Beyond the walls, ancient yews, beech and oaks lifted their branches in majestic arches that completely covered the 40ft expanse of road. The path they traveled was covered in leaves of every hue and shade of autumn, it laid out like a chaotic quilt of umbers, oranges, reds and browns that shifted, swirled and cracked as the Aston made it’s way through the sea of color. The path wound it’s way along the bottom edge of the plateau, the castle looming above. With a graceful curve it turned upward, still flanked on both sides by the sheltering branches of the ancient trees. In a series of wide S-turns the lane snaked it’s way up the side of the large hill. Michael understood the defensive nature this lane would have played in the castles design. The curves only allowed for a specific speed, the width was.
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