With a deft movement, he swept the remaining covers to midway down Benjamin's thighs, exposing him to Camorra's hungry eyes. A single fingertip hooked gently under his shaft, lifting and teasing it to its full potential. A soft his escaped Camorra's perfect teeth as he watched it harden and lengthen at his touch, the head beginning to emerge from the smooth young skin.
Benjamin heard his own breathing begin to change, becoming heavier, and a delicious frown of desire began to form on his forehead, entrancing Camorra still further. Sliding two fingers and a thumb down the shaft to the base, he gently scraped his nails over the silky skin of the boy's sack, using the barest pressure to massage the contents. Benjamin moaned slightly, and his hips shifted involuntarily to meet the pressure as his sleeping brain searched vainly for the source of the pleasure.
Changing tack, Camorra wrapped his long fingers around Benjamin's erection and began to slide up and down, tortuously slowly and deliberately, watching as Benjamin's frown deepened and his young hips began to thrust more ardently into Camorra's fist. Camorra watched in delicious appreciation as Benjamin felt his fingers knot themselves into the bed sheets and his erection twitch in Camorra's cool grasp. For long, tortuous minutes, Camorra continued his deliberate pace, as Benjamin felt his pleasure mount and begin to peak. With a long moan, he dug his fingers further into the bed clothes, and saw through half-lidded eyes Camorra bending over him. As he felt the tip of his master's tongue snake out and run over the head of his ardent member, his self-control fled and he climaxed, in long, languid streaks of pure pleasure. He was vaguely aware of a hiss of satisfaction escaping Camorra as he sat back and drew a fingertip over his lips, catching the last drops of Benjamin's efforts.
Leaning over Benjamin, Camorra drew a fingernail up from Benjamin's stomach to his collarbones, leaving a thin red line. For a moment he stared at the gently sheen of sweat covering Benjamin's face, before he gently drew the covers back up and kissed him upon the forehead. Without a sound, Camorra withdrew, seeming to melt effortless into the shadows.
With a start, Benjamin awoke. Sitting upright, he stared out the window, and saw that it was morning, around 8, if the sun was anything to go by. With a moment of shocked recollection, he remembered, flushing, the dream he had last night. Quickly sliding a hand down the covers to his crotch, he found that there was no sign of last night's release. "Just a dream," he sighed to himself, finding himself almost sorry. He rose, and stepped into the bathroom, where he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. What he saw froze him in shock, for stretching from his collarbones to his stomach was a thin, red line. His mind reeled in shock; this could not be possible!
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