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In the Temple of the Dove

In the Temple of the Dove, all was quiet. The worshipers listened respectfully, as the priest spoke about the glories of peace and attempted to guide the parishioners through whatever was troubling their lives.

If, upon entering the Temple, you walked around the altar room, and bypassed the parishioners, you would then enter the main temple area. From there you could find your way easily into the hall, walking on the wood floors, past the quiet rooms. Eventually you would enter the single-cell rooms where the priests and sisters live, and where sometimes visitors stay as well. If you continued walking down this hall, you'd eventually enter the large and spacious kitchen.

On the far side of the kitchen you would see the stairs leading down. Going down them, you'd find yourself in a large, dimly-lit cellar. If you made this journey at a certain time, you might have eventually found myself and Baelan, me leaning back against the wall of one of the small side rooms, pants around my ankles, and Baelan on his knees, the whole length of me fully engulfed in his mouth, his hands gripping my hips.

How we ended up doing this in the basement of the Temple of the Dove was pure happenstance. We had been returning home after having breakfast with a friend, and walking through town, we had heard the church bells. Baelan had looked into my eyes and I into his, and he had pushed me gently into the Temple. The parishioners were already seated, but Baelan led me around the side of the altar room, quietly past the praying people, down the path I have just described for you, and finally into the cellar.

It was obvious he had been in this cellar before, and probably with another man (or a woman?) but it hardly mattered when he pushed me into one of the side rooms, up against the wall, and kissed my mouth, forcing his tongue inside of it.

I was instantly hard, and as I dropped my hand to his pants, I found he was, too. It had only gone downhill from there. I admit, I hardly protested, though I was terrified of getting caught - too many people in this town knew who I was.

Regardless of the danger – or perhaps because of it - Baelan and I had been lovers since we served together as officers in the Navy. Not the whole time, of course. When we met, we were still mids (that's midshipmen, the lowest rank of officer), there had been no privacy and we had really only just been getting to know each other.

The war had started just after we were assigned to the same vessel, and over the next few months, promotions came fast and furious. The enemy we were fighting was devastating and literally all of my promotions came in the heat of battle.

And as I gained ranks, I always brought Baelan with me. When the Captain asked me - whom did I want as my second - I always named him. He was a good, hard worker, and we worked very well together.

When we finally became lieutenants - I was the first mate of the vessel and he was second - we finally had officer's quarters, which we shared together, and there being no other officers on the ship besides ourselves and the captain, we had it to ourselves. And oh, the fun we had. Baelan introduced me to the joys of male-male sex in the first place; I had only been with women up to that point.

Not that any of that was in my mind at this moment as Baelan licked and sucked. Oh, he was a world-class cocksucker, all right, and I whimpered with pleasure, completely in his control. I heard him chuckle, deep in his throat, muffled by my cock.

His hand crept from gripping my hip to between my legs. He stroked and fondled me for a few moments, but then I felt his hand working towards my ass, and I inhaled sharply. I felt his finger press against me, then enter me, slowly, lovingly, but firmly. I knew I didn't have much longer now.

Suddenly, we heard voices on the stairs. They would have to come all the way down the hall and look into the room to see us, but I still held my breath. I put my hand on Baelan's head, feeling his silky hair, to warn him to be quiet and hold still.

He stopped for a moment, then, looking up at me, I saw his eyes twinkle and I guessed what he was up to. I shook my head violently, but he only ignored me and resumed his motions. I grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked, but though he winced, he wouldn't let me pull him off me.

Despite the voices coming down the hall, I felt myself beginning to build. I pleaded with him with my eyes, but he only smiled around my cock, and, shoving his finger deep inside me, swallowed me deeply again. I felt his throat working around me, and I curled both my fingers into his hair, and, I couldn't help it, I thrust forward and came, hard, down his throat.

I could still faintly hear the two people talking, and coming closer to us, but I couldn't stop. I covered my mouth with one of my hands, untangling it from his hair, and bit into it. The only noise from our room were the wet noises from Baelan's throat - which were incredibly erotic - but it seemed unnaturally loud.

The voices went into one of the rooms close to the stairs. All was quiet for a moment, as my breathing began to return to normal, and then I heard them heading back again, and back up the stairs, and soon we were alone again.

Baelan looked up at me. He let my cock trail out of his mouth, wet and still sticky, and as I watched, he cleaned me off with his tongue, always keeping his eyes on me.

Then he stood, and gripping my face in his hands, he kissed my mouth. I tasted my own come on his mouth, and I already felt a twitch in my cock, ready to go again.

"All your protests are for naught, old friend," he murmured, as he turned me around to face the wall. I turned, eagerly, ready for him as always. I heard him unbuckling his pants behind me, and then I felt him press up against me, his warm chest pressed against my back, his mouth near my ear.

I felt his cock press up against my ass, and I remembered once again we were in a temple to the gods, and here we were, profaning it.

Without hesitating – goodness knows we had done this enough times that I was used to it – he began to enter me, slowly, but without stopping, and I felt his hand grip my shoulder to steady us both. I moaned softly, and consciously relaxed myself. Soon enough he was in me, hilt-deep, and I felt him whisper in my ear. "You act like such a prude sometimes, you know that? But I know you want this as much as I do."

I wanted to demur, I really did, but he felt so sweet in me as he began to move that I had no words, and just turned my head to meet his mouth with mine. He kissed me as eagerly as I could hope for, and his hands dropped to my hips.

He was surprisingly gentle; this was not always his way but today he was in a caring, teasing mood. He let his hand slide around to the front of me, where it found my erect cock, and I felt his fist wrap around it and he began to pump me in time with his movements.

I groaned, putting my hands flat against the wall. He began to increase his tempo. My face was pressed against the wall, my back arched slightly, so as to make room for his hand on my cock.

He fucked me, up against that wall of that temple. Me, Nigel Montero. Scion of one of the richest houses in my city. If I had been caught the scandal would have been all over the city and I would be shunned and ostracized. My father would have found out, and who knows what he would have done? Probably disowned me. I knew this and yet here I was, being rammed against this wall, my cock in another man's hand, my nails digging into the wall.

He growled - actually growled - into my ear, and bit me on the neck. He was now fucking me furiously and his hand was a blur on my cock. My shirt was soaked with sweat, and my knees began to buckle.

He was the first one to lose control, and, for a moment forgetting where he was, he cried out as he rammed himself all the way up inside of me as he came, spurting his hot fluids inside of me. His hand tightened around my cock, and I could not hold back either as I came, shooting across the wall and leaving my mark in this temple.

We panted in each other's arms, his head leaning on my shoulder. He kissed my cheek then, a surprisingly tender kiss, and when I turned to look at him, he smiled at me, fondly.

"You're a filthy bastard," I whispered, softly.

He only grinned. "Perhaps. But you're the one standing here with a cock up your ass."

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