Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Contemplation Indigo ❯ Four Seasons ( Chapter 3 )

Four Seasons

By DRL

My Dragon is sitting across the breakfast table from me and I am currently engaged in my favourite pastime - 'Wufei watching'. I pretend to be reading the morning paper, but I turn the pages without glancing at the newsprint even once. My eyes are trained on him, watching his every move. He is not doing anything particularly diverting, just reading some letters, but I just like to watch him. Suddenly his eyes swivel toward me and two glittering obsidian jewels lock with mine. A thrill courses through my body like a jolt of electric current as our eyes meet. Thirteen and a half years of marriage and he still has the power to do that to me with just a look. 'Kushrenada,' I tell myself, 'You are an old fool'. Perhaps, but a lucky old fool.

"What?" He asks in his light, well-modulated voice. He smiles slightly self-consciously.

'Nothing," I reply, "I just like looking at you." He rolls his eyeballs playfully, and returns to his inspection of the morning's post.

He has just finished his morning workout, and he is dressed in a muscle vest and sweats. Utterly delicious. He really is incredibly petite, for a man. Quite small in stature (although I would never repeat as much to him) and slim and wiry of build. I remember how frightened I was when we first made love, afraid I would crush his tiny body with mine. That was a long time ago now, a time that hardly seems real any more. I was a General in the military and he was a rebel terrorist, and we were on opposing sides of a bitter and bloody conflict. I shudder again, but this time with horror at the memory.

He was just fifteen years old when I took his innocence. Yes, he had already been married and widowed, but a chaste marriage of convenience, with no actual consummation. A child he seemed to me at first, but I soon learned different. That was no child that challenged me to a duel of swords (albeit unsuccessfully), that was no child who surrendered first his life to me, then his virtue, and that was definitely no child who drove me to the dizziest heights of the most exquisite pleasure I had hitherto experienced. My only explanation for that night was that madness overtook my reason, and if that was indeed the case, I never recovered. He cast a spell on me that night, and he continues to weave the enchantment still.

He sits across from me with nothing on his plate but the pile of letters, sipping from a cup of coffee. I pick up a warm, crusty pastry from my plate and, pushing aside the letters, place it onto his.

"Here My Sweet, try one of these, they are really good." I say with an encouraging smile, "They are from the new patisserie in the village." He looks across at me, then down at his plate. He then makes a small but utterly adorable sound in his throat, which seems to signify acknowledgement of some kind. He then picks up the pastry and bites into it with a will. That is so typical of him. He will sit at the breakfast table all morning, and not eat a morsel, but were I myself to serve him with ten such pastries, he would eat every one. I place another pastry on his plate beside the remnants of the first, and sure enough, as soon as he has finished the first one he starts on the second. I fill his crystal goblet with freshly squeezed orange juice and as I finish pouring he reaches out for the goblet and raises it to his lips, taking a deep draft. A moment later he slams it down on the table with such force that the stem breaks and the bowl of the glass topples over onto the floor, spilling its contents onto the rug.

"Fucking bastards!" He suddenly exclaims, screwing the letter he was reading into a ball and throwing it across the room. His eyes flash in anger and his breath comes in barely controlled deep, ragged spurts.

"What is it Dear Heart, are you hurt?" I ask, alarmed at his sudden vehemence. I immediately rise from my seat and rush to his side. I reach for the hand that was holding the glass, from which his life-blood now drips, forming a slowly spreading stain, stark against the white linen of the tablecloth. I begin to inspect the wound.

"Get away from me." He hisses, pulling his hand from mine. I step back and sigh heavily as I realise that it is going to be 'one of those days'.

I love Wufei to distraction, but even I will admit that he is something of a prickly pear. When he is in a temperate mood he is perfectly pleasant and a joy to be with. However, when he gets angry, and this can happen in the blink of an eye, it's time to head for the hills. I have seen strong men reduced to a jelly with just one glare from an irritated Wufei. At such times I generally give him a wide berth, since I am the one who usually comes in for the brunt of his wrath. He pushes back his chair and stomps noisily from the room.

I watch him leave, my brow creased with worry. In this mood he will not let anyone near him, but judging by the bloodstain on the tablecloth, he may be quite badly hurt. I can only hope that he will take care of it properly himself. I stoop to retrieve the crumpled letter, smooth it out and read it. After so doing I know exactly why Wufei is so angry. He is currently studying the archaeological discovery of the 'Ciudad Perdida', an ancient ruined pre-Columbian city, which was discovered some years ago in the mountains of Northern Colombia, South America. An American university is planning an archaeological expedition to study the city, 90% of which is still unexplored and hidden by undergrowth, and Wufei was trying to obtain permission to accompany the expedition as a lay observer. This morning's letter was from the university, turning down his request.

My poor Wufei - he so wanted to go on this expedition too. I myself have mixed feelings about the whole thing. On the one hand, it seems a very exciting project and is right up his street, but on the other hand he will be gone for months and I will miss him so. I ought not to think of myself at a time like this, but it is difficult not to. Also, Colombia has a terrible problem with Guerillas, and it is a well-known fact that these Guerillas have hideouts in the mountainous regions of the north, so there is a distinct element of risk and danger inherent in the whole expedition. This is predominantly why the find has not been explored hitherto. I know that Wufei is well able to take care of himself in this respect, but this knowledge would not stop me from being on tenderhooks until he returned safely to me, and I have no desire for a month or two spent chewing my exquisitely manicured fingernails. This notwithstanding, his happiness demands that I do everything in my power to help him, so I make a mental note to telephone the Principal of the university. My fiery Dragon's pride would never allow him to ask for my help, although he is well aware that a word from me would settle the matter. I no longer take any active part in matters political, but I am not without influence in certain quarters, and my advice is still sought by State heads throughout the world and the Colonies, albeit with discretion.

Wufei also misses me when he goes off exploring into the wild. He has implored me to accompany him on many occasions. Much as I like to comply with his every whim, I am steadfast on this point, much to my Dragon's frustration and chagrin. It is all way to exciting and energetic for me. The only hiking I am interested in is a leisurely stroll around the grounds and messuages of my own estate, preferably with my love on my arm. Besides, from what Wufei tells me, one is required to endure a certain degree of 'slumming' on these trips and that I certainly am not prepared to undergo. I mean to say, week after week without a decent drop of Burgundy? Unthinkable!

+++++++++++++++++++

I lay down my secateurs, slip my hand from within the heavy canvas glove and swipe at the moisture bedewing my brow. The sun is low in the sky and I guess that it is late in the afternoon. Wufei did not join me for lunch so I assumed that he was still brooding and so left him alone. He has had long enough now, however, and I think that some tentative overture might be in order. I take a step back, the better to inspect the rose bush I have been dead-heading. I select the largest and most perfect of the blood-red blooms, retrieve my secateurs and snip it off, leaving a long stem. I remove the thorns from the stem and carry my prize back into the house.

I know that Wufei will be in his study. Although I tend leave him alone during his fits of temper, I am always aware of him in a general sense. This house is large and has many rooms, but the staff have been briefed to keep a weather-eye open at such times. By no means have they been instructed to spy on him, it's just that I feel better if I know where he is and what he is up to, just in case. It's not really that big a deal because his movements follow a very well established pattern. After one of his hissy fits he will either go to his exercise room, to his study or to the library. These are his domains. Occasionally he will take one of those infernal sports cars of his out and terrorise the local lanes and byways. I hate it when he does this because I worry for his safety. I know him to be a perfectly competent driver, but I cannot vouch for the other drivers he is likely to encounter. It's even worse when to takes that Harley Davidson motorcycle I purchased for him in a moment of weakness. He loves to ride around on it at breakneck speed, but he refuses to wear any form of protective clothing. I shudder at the thought.

I push open the study door and step into the room. Sure enough, Wufei is seated at his desk, the desktop strewn with open textbooks. He looks up as I enter, but says nothing, his expression unreadable. I walk up to the desk, place the rose across the pages of the book he is currently studying, turn round and leave the room, pulling the door closed behind me. I then make my way to the library, where the early editions of the evening papers will have been laid out for me and a bottle of something from the cellar uncorked and left to breath, awaiting my pleasure. I take a seat in an armchair by the huge fireplace, which is empty at this time of year, pour myself a glass of the wine (a good claret), and select one of the newspapers that have been arranged on a low table well within reach. I begin to browse through the newspaper, but I do not get very far. Before too long the door opens and Wufei walks in. He crosses the room with short, mincing steps and climbs into my chair. He practically curls up in my lap, places his sinewy arms around my neck and lays his head on my shoulder. I drop the newspaper onto the floor and enfold him in my arms, holding him close. Neither of us says a word, he just nuzzles my neck and I soothingly stroke his silken hair.

"I love you." He finally murmurs.

"I love you too My Sweet." I reply. I place a kiss onto his hair. "How is your hand?" I ask with concern. He gives a small chuckle.

"It hurts a bit." He replies. He raises his head and holds his injured hand out for me to see. The wound has indeed been expertly tended and dressed.

"Poor baby." I say as he settles back down and snuggles closer against me. As his small, firm body moves against mine I feel a stirring in the region of my crotch. I smile to myself and tighten my arms about him, drawing him closer to me. It never takes much with Wufei.

"Thank-you for the rose, it was beautiful." He says, raising his head again and fixing me with those mesmerising eyes of his.

"Yes it was." I reply. "A beautiful rose for my beautiful Dragon."

"I saw you in the garden today." He says. "I watched you for a bit."

"You should have come out to join me." I tell him. "It was too lovely a day to spend indoors."

"I know." He replies. "I was going to, but the Colonies manuscript deadline is fast approaching, so I thought it best to put in some work first, before pleasure. I've almost finished the manuscript, so now I've earned my pleasure."

He raises his lips to mine, but before our lips meet his pink little tongue darts into my open mouth and begins a deep and thorough exploration. We kiss deeply and passionately, while Wufei unwinds one of his arms from around my neck and proceeds to unfasten the buttons of my shirt. He pushes the shirt from my body, exposing one shoulder and a good portion of chest and runs his fingertips across the exposed flesh in the lightest of caresses. His touch causes me to moan into his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to delve even deeper into the moist cavern of my mouth. His questing fingers find a already hardening nipple and give it a light but firm tweak. This results in a sudden jolt of pleasure which causes an involuntary spasm to wrack my body. This spasm almost ejects Wufei from my lap, and puts a sudden end to a most enjoyable kiss, which was not at all what I wanted to happen. Wufei however is undeterred. He quickly rises to his feet and, with eyes heavy-lidded with lust, he takes my hand and leads me from the room. I know exactly where we are going, and I follow him wordlessly.

He flings wide the door of our magnificent bedroom suite and draws me in, turning and attacking my mouth before I even have time to close the door behind me. I manage to push it shut with my foot just before I gather him into my arms and carry him to the bed. I throw him into the midst of the profusion of pillows and cushions thereon, and stand there at the edge of the bed, looking at him, my hands on my hips and an evil smirk playing about my lips.

"Well my Dragon," I ask him as I complete the removal of the shirt that he had begun downstairs in the library, "Now that you have brought me here, what is it you want of me?" He smiles impishly at me, his eyes still narrowed and hazy with lust.

"I want you to fuck me into this mattress." He purrs.

"I daresay," I reply with forced nonchalance. It is all I can do to keep from throwing myself upon him and doing just that. The little minx knows exactly what his talking dirty does to me, "But," I continue, "What is in it for me?"

"This." He replies in a voice as soft as velvet, and crawls slowly across the bed towards me on his hands and knees. He stops in front of me and proceeds to unfasten my belt buckle. At the same time he takes one of my nipples, already firm and jutting, into his mouth and suckles hard. Needless to say, it takes all of my strength to remain standing at this juncture. His hands, never idle at such times, are busy unfastening my trousers and freeing my rigid erection. Once free he releases the nipple and looks down at my engorged penis. He then looks up at me with guileless eyes, immediately schooling his features from the unbridled lust of a second ago to the innocent and wide-eyed gaze of a child.

"My, aren't we excited about something?" He says with mock wonder. He reaches hesitantly for my shaft, as though he has never seen such a thing before. Then he slowly lowers his head and takes it in his mouth, maintaining eye contact with me the whole time, only taking his eyes from mine as the swollen tip slowly disappears into his mouth. He takes in only the first inch or two, then slowly withdraws while sucking hard, his innocent eyes locking with mine again. He does this a few times, then withdraws completely and smiles up at me with the delight of a child who has just been given a new toy. All the while he is pumping at my penis with a slow but steady rhythm, exerting a firm pressure while he does so. Still looking and smiling at me he lowers his head again and this time he flicks his tongue once, twice, three times over the swollen head, then slowly runs his tongue up and down the shaft. He then pushes the shaft to one side, lowers his head slightly, eyes still fixed on mine and lightly grazes the skin of my scrotum with his teeth. Beyond this however, he goes no further since I am rather hypersensitive in this area.

Then as quickly as it appeared, his wide-eyed and innocent façade dissolves. With a toss of his head his hair swirls and cascades around his shoulders with rakish abandon, his eyes take on a lustful insouciance, his lips, swollen from kissing, form a coquettish pout, and suddenly it's 'all change' again. He quickly tears his eyes from mine, opens his mouth wide and takes me down, all the way to the hilt. I have no idea how he manages to do this. I am definitely not what one would call 'genitally challenged' but he still manages to deep-throat me somehow. Seeing my entire penis going into that tiny mouth of his never ceases to amaze me (not to mention arouse me) - it's like Dr Who and the Tardis. He works his deep-throat magic on me for some little time since he knows how much I enjoy it, the look of it giving almost as much pleasure as the feel of it. Wufei is indeed a master of this particular craft. By this time am in Nirvana, but I know I will soon be called upon to do a little work. To coin a rather coarse phrase, Wufei likes for me to fuck his mouth. I know that it is time because he is cupping the globes of my buttocks with his hands and pulling me forward. I hold his head steady with my hands, enmeshing my fingers in that glorious hair, and proceed to thrust forward with my hips, thus effectively…, well, fucking his mouth. He likes this good and hard, so I give it to him good and hard, but I don't want to come into his mouth, not this time anyway, so after a short while I stop and withdraw. Wufei gives an irritated little moan as I do so, and tries to hold me in position, but I effortlessly pull away from him.

"Just a second my impatient little Dragon." I admonish him as he sits back on his haunches and pouts for all he is worth. I hurriedly kick off my trousers and underwear, which were pooled around my ankles and remove my socks, and I am pleased to observe Wufei removing his clothes too. I then turn my attention back to him. "Right then young man, up on your hands and knees." I command him. He turns his back to me and he slowly lowers his upper body so that the golden globes of his gorgeous ass are bared to my hungry gaze. "Beautiful!" I murmur as I lean in closer. I run my palms lightly over the surface of the flawless skin of his buttocks before spreading my hands and grasping each cheek firmly, but not so firm as to cause pain. I clench and released several times, gently kneading the soft flesh until Wufei moans softly with pleasure. Sinking to my knees, I then part the two hemispheres, widening the cleft and exposing the puckered opening with its aureole of slightly darker skin. I run my tongue lightly up and down the moist valley, moistening it still further. Wufei's moans increase in volume, and he begins to writhe in ecstasy, murmuring incoherent phrases. I then probe at the opening with my tongue, pushing in as far as I can with Wufei aiding my entry by pushing against me. I probe long and deep since this is the only preparation that he will receive; my horny little Dragon is none too fond of fingers up 'there'. Just before I withdraw my tongue I press my face into Wufei's ass, push my tongue in deep and hum out loud. Wufei lets out a squeal of delight and I chuckle softly. I then withdraw my tongue and rise to my feet.

I pull Wufei up roughly by the arms, turn him over and throw him down on the bed on his back. As he bounces up and down on the springy mattress, he smiles broadly and spreads his legs wide in invitation. He knows well what is coming. Sometimes I give it to him gently and sometimes I give it to him rough. Today he is going to get it rough, and by the smile on his face that's just fine with him. I spit copiously into my hand and use the saliva to coat my penis, pumping up and down as I do so. We never use commercial lubricants - too messy and too slippery. It's either saliva or nothing. I climb onto the bed, and kneel looming over Wufei, marvelling for the millionth time at how tiny he is in comparison to me.

He raises his arms, catches me around the neck and pulls me down to him in a heated kiss. Our tongues war with each other even as our erections are crushed together between our bodies. Wufei spreads his legs and crosses his ankles together at the small of my back, latching our bodies together. He then begins to roll his hips, thus grinding our penises together. The resulting friction is heavenly, but much more of this will finish us both off so I break the kiss and roughly separate my body from his. I then place my hands under his knees and force them up to his chest. I grab a pillow and place it beneath his buttocks to aid his comfort. I know I said rough, but I can't bear to think of him being in any discomfort so I cop out a little here. I then position my penis at his opening and thrust forward quickly. He cries out, but not in pain. I hesitate for a moment, but when he wriggles his buttocks in an impatient gesture, I withdraw almost completely and thrust forward again, with considerable force. He cries out again, and again each time I repeat the motion.

I lower his legs and rest them over my spread thighs. Without breaking my rhythm I bend to kiss him, but in this position my strokes are perforce shallower as I cannot thrust forward with such force as before, since it is impossible for me to withdraw far enough first. However, in this position I can stimulate his prostate and I do so mercilessly. He screams my name in his ecstasy and entreats me to stop. Not a chance of it! I pull out of him and scramble quickly to the floor. I stand at the edge of the bed, pull him roughly toward me, throw his legs over my shoulders and enter again. Once again I establish a swift rhythm, pulling out to the tip and thrusting in deep and hard. In this position I can easily grab hold of Wufei's erection and pump my hand up and down, in time with my thrusts. I need only do this a few times before Wufei reaches the limit of his endurance. With a keening wail his small body shudders as jets of hot, thick semen spill forth. Having achieved my aim I thrust two or three more times before I release my own seed into his willingly receptive body with a strangled cry.

I immediately withdraw my rapidly softening penis and attend to Wufei. I grab a handful of tissues from a box on the nightstand and wipe away any errant drops of semen from his body. I then gather him up in my arms, throw back the soiled coverlet and lay him down onto the clean, cool sheet. I lie down beside him and enfold him in my arms. He sighs contentedly and snuggles against me. We lie together, weary, sated and blissfully happy.

My Wufei is a paradox. He can change from a syrupy sweetheart to a billowing stormcloud, from a lusty sexpot to a curious ingénue in a heartbeat, and I absolutely love it. I never know where I am with him from one moment to the next and quite frankly, I don't want to know. I wouldn't have it any other way. Some people say that I spoil him. Perhaps I do but he's happy and I'm happy, so where's the harm? Anyway, his bark is much worse than his bite. I scribbled a little poem about him the other day. It goes as follows:

With his smile as sweet as a warm wind in summer

He's got me flying like a bird in a bright June sky

And just when he thinks that I've got his number

Brings me down to the ground with his wintry eye

That's my baby, he can be all four seasons in one day

And when nightime comes with no interference

To our warm summer love with all its charms

But like a thoroughbred horse he can turn on a sixpence

And I find that I'm back in Mr Winter's arms

That's my baby, he can be all four seasons in one day

How will I know?

How can I tell?

Which side of the bed he'll take when the day begins?

He can be kind

He can be cruel

He's got me guessing like a gameshow fool

He can change his mind like he changes his sweater

From one minute to the next it's hard to tell

He blows hot and cold just like stormy weather

He's my gift from the lord or a fiend from hell

That's my baby, he can be all four seasons in one day

Watching the weatherman's been no good at all

Winter, spring summer, I'm bound for a fall

There are no long term predictions for my baby

He can be all four seasons in one day

(lyrics 'All four seasons' by Sting)