‘It’s his birthday and I’ve prepared a modest feast at the Homestead. But Connor has not returned. When finally he does, he appears in the doorway soaked in snow and half in blood. At first I worry and rush to him but he assures me he’s alright, taking my warm hand in his big chilled ones. I help him peel off his layers, my favourite part of the day; watching the clothes fall off his bronze skin, smooth but feathered with scars. I always run my hands over them and caress his chest and shoulders. I sometimes tease him with a thumb over his nipples, and he shivers but not from the cold. At some point when it reaches his hip, he rises and then starts to kiss me, and it’s my turn to be touched and stripped. We lose ourselves by the big fire, my nipples hard and on his rocky abs. His erection begins to poke through the thin clothes left on him and I grab hold of it with my thighs. At which point he can’t stand my teasing. And today, he can’t even make it to the bedroom upstairs but begins to take me on the desk. Books scattered and stationery on the floor along with our clothes. The head of his cock expands my entrance and hits the point of ecstasy. I’m screaming his name: “Connor! Connor! Ahhh!” All through the night in various surfaces. And I’m never cold in his embrace. His strong thick arms and back always protecting me. I love him, and he whispers it to me, and at the end of this night, I remember to whisper, ‘Happy Birthday, Ratonhnhaké:ton…’’

Confession [@clehjett]
Screencap credit [x]