Slowly Klaudio worked. This had to be a good one – a better one
than a quick hand job – but he could use only limited resources for
fear of spooking his charge. A short burst of speed had Anton groan-
ing, and the feet started working. His hands, which had released the
grip on the sheets now clutched them again, but from ecstasy not fear.
His body began to arch up, but Klaudio knew how to change his grip at
the right moment, holding him there for a full minute before reducing
the stimulation to allow him to get his breath. Anton’s face now
looked very different. The strain that showed there now was from a
different stable, and the open mouthed smile was real.

Five times did Klaudio make his loins rear up and hold him there,
until he was crying out to be allowed to come. Then he came – shooting
high to land on his taut, flat belly. Klaudio risked trapping the
later spurts with his lips pressed to the eye of Anton’s glans: he was
too far gone to notice even if he had bitten the end off. He reeled
back, practically in a faint. By the time he was taking notice again,
Klaudio had cleaned him up and zipped his flaccid weapon back into his
fly, and began the language lesson as if nothing had happened.

Then he closed his eyes, flicked the light switch, and rolled over
on his side to sleep.
Anton looked towards the door at the sound, then dropped a hand
quickly to his crotch, to flatten his erection and to conceal it? His
hand gripped his weapon. Feverishly he pulled at the unfamiliar zip,
but by the time Klaudio had entered, his penis was still exposed. Anton froze.

Klaudio stood facing the bed, and smiled. With an exaggerated expression of delight, he started to point to the various parts of the
prick, repeating their names. His pointing finger got closer and
closer, but still he did not touch it. As he got very close, Anton’s
hands clutched at the surface of the bed. How long would he bear this
language lesson, before grabbing his tool and stuffing it hastily away
inside his trousers?