As You Wish

"As You Wish"

In the corner of a large, dimly lit room a shadow of a figure sat hunched up, his head between his knees, long, blonde locks cascading over his tear-filled eyes. It was only hours ago that Dorian Gray had learned of his long-time lover, Sibyl Vane's, suicide, and that he had been the cause of her death. Of course, he hadn't blamed himself then, oh no! Perish the thought! She had deserved his harsh criticism of her so-called "acting skills". Usually brilliant as an actress, she had thrown out all her skills that night as a revelation that she now lived only in Dorian's world, not in the ridiculous plays that she had been made to perform in. And as a result, she had made akerykery of Mr. Gray in front of his companions. He thought he'd never live her folly down to them, especially Lord Henry. Why, Harry would probably never want to convene with him again thanks to this stupid girl that he had so foolishly given his heart to. Her behavior warranted a reprimand!

Little did Dorian know what effect his words would have on the lass, little did he know what fate the maid would inflict on herself. Not until that afternoon when Lord Henry came to visit him, and told him what had taken place, did he realize the damage that had been done...

And so, here he sat, his once lovely world in shambles, his beautiful innocense for the first time truly marred by the vanity he now possessed. He pulled himself from the cold, hard floor of the attic, stumbling over to the portrait of himself that his good friend Basil had painted. He lifted the heavy, velvet curtain, which hid the image from the outside world, away from the canvas. There it was. A perfect likeness. Bright blue eyes gazed back at the viewer, waves of light hair tumbled over the soft brow, gracing the delicate jawline. And that mouth - oh that beautiful, perfect mouth! - now... marred? How could it be? Indeed, the prettily curved, rosy lips had now turned up into a mocking grimace, a cruel smirk, as though to say, "I know what you have done..."

Dorian immediately slammed the curtain shut. How could this be? How could this possibly have happened? Did his eyes play tricks upon him? No... what he saw was as real as the rings upon his fingers. The portrait had changed. And then Dorian recalled the day that he had first layed eyes upon the portrait. He had instantly fallen in love with it, but, realizing that someday he would be older and uglier than the portrait, vainly wished aloud that the portrait should grow old and ugly instead of him - the beautiful, youthful Dorian Gray! And so, it seemed, that was what had happened. For every line that should cross Dorian's fair face, gray hair that should grow upon his head, for ever evil that he should bestow upon another, the portrait would take upon itself what should have been rightfully Dorian's burden...

As Dorian sat tossing these thoughts about his troubled, aching mind, he suddenly heard a knock at the attic door. He quickly stood, composing himself the best he could, and opened the door.

"Yes?" he asked the servant standing there.

"Mr. Gray, Lord Henry Wotton is here to see you again."

"One moment, I'll be right down," Dorian said. "And fetch us some drinks, will you?"

"Yes, m'lord," answered the servant, and he headed off to wait upon his master.

****

"Harry," said Dorian, taking a seat beside his friend. "I do say, you really have come at a bad time, but it is a comfort to see you."

"Yes, I know Dorian," answered Lord Henry. "As soon as I left earlier I knew you were off to a bad start, and I thought I had better come back and cheer you up a bit."

"Thank you, Harry. You know I appreciate it."

"Yes, well," answered Lord Henry, "You know how well I like you, lovely creature as you are, and I hate to see one so fair of face and countenence so glum."

"I'm glad for your concern," answered Dorian, "But I really don't know how much you can help me. I did love her, you know..."

"Dorian, Dorian! As I have said before, she was a terrible actress! And she wasn't that pretty. You can do better than that!"

"You think so?"

Lord Henry moved closer to his companion and spoke in a low voice, "I know at least one *ahem* person who could better share your love..."

Dorian blushed slightly, then quickly stood. "Well! I wonder what's keeping my servant! He sure is taking a frightfully long time with those drinks! I'll go and see what's keeping him."

But Lord Henry had already risen, and stopped him dead in his tracks. "Oh, Dorian, don't be so uptight. I'm not thirsty anyway." He gripped Dorian's shoulders. "Dorian, my lad, you're so tense. Here, let me help you unwind..." Then he began to kneed at Dorian's shoulders,

"Mmmm...." was all Dorian could respond with as Lord Henry seemed quite the expert at massage.

When Lord Henry had finished, Dorian slowly opened his eyes. "Better?" Harry asked.

"That was... exquisite..." replied Dorian.

"Yes," Lord Henry smiled smugly. "So it seems. I've gotten many a lady in the palm of my hand using that little parlor trick."

"Just ladies?" asked Dorian.

Lord Henry moved in close, so that his face was centimeters away from Dorian's. "Until now..."

He pressed his hand to Dorian's pale cheek. "Dorian... you know I've always fancied you. You and your charmingly innocent personality and your godlike beauty."

"But I love - " began Dorian.

"Sibyl?" Lord Henry scoffed. "That silly little know-nothing girl? Please. She could never have given you the satisfaction that I can..."

"What about, what about," stammered Dorian. "your wife?"

Lord Henry laughed aloud, "What, that wretch? Oh Dorian, she knows full well what I like to do in my spare time, and I can assure you we've had lots of fun together, shall we say, entertaining large crowds. None of those peope really deserve my attention, but you, Dorian, you are my friend. And right now you are in a time of great need. Please, Dorian, let me comfort you as good friends should. I'd feel simply awful if I left here tonight with you still depressed..."

Dorian looked into the older man's dark eyes, so different from his own. He studied the well-shaven face that Lord Henry possessed - well-shaven, exceor tor the goatee that he allowed to grow on his chin. That little bit of chocolate-colored facial hair was darkly seductive. And Dorian had always been fond of it, drawn to it, even though his attention had mostly been given to females. Lord Henry gently lifted Dorian's chin up with his fingertips, barely brushing those flushed, pouty lips with his own. Dorian felt Harry's goatee brush against his skin and shivered.

"You like what you feel," It was a statement, rather than a question. Lord Henry bent his head and captured Dorian's lips with his in a full, searing kiss, leaving Dorian in need of more.

"Harry..."

"Yes, Dorian?"

"Someone will see..."

"Well then, why don't you be a good host and take us to someplace a little more private?"

Dorian nodded, trying to supress an excited grin as he led Lord Henry upstairs toward his bedroom.

He opened the door to the beautiful, Victorian room, and quickly shut and locked it as soon as Lord Henry had stepped inside.

"Well, this will certainly do," said Lord Henry, looking at the large canopy bed covered with rich scarlet linens.

"You like it?" ined Ded Dorian.

"It's as perfect as the man who owns it, my dear," answered Lord Henry. He stepped forward, closing in on Dorian, who by now was far from resisting Henry Wotton's advances. "My dear friend," he said, grasping Dorian's face in his hands and kissing him thoroughly, "You are quite the prize to be had..."

Dorian ras has hands over the older man's waistcoat, wishing there was less fabric between the two. As if reading Dorian's mind, Lord Henry said aloud, "It's rather stuffy in here, Dorian. Help me out of this dreadful coat?"

Dorian quickly obliged. In a matter of seconds he had ridded his companion of the unwanted waistcoat, and was working on unbuttoning his blouse. Meanwhile Lord Henry was busy kissing a slow, lazy trail down Dorian's graceful jawline. Harry then grasped Dorian's hands wn hin his own, pressing the fingers upon his lips.

"Dorian..." He led the younger man over to the large bed, pushing him down onto the red covers. He then pinned Dorian down with his strong legs, all the while pressing teasingly slow kisses on his neck and face. Dorian could feel Lord Henry's arousal through his thin trousers, and softly moaned in response. Lord Henry stripped away the younger man's shirt and began kissing down from his neck to his collarbone to his chest... Dorian gasped as Lord Henry took a taut nipple into histh, th, licking around the the edge. He closed his eyes as the bliss filled his body, but dark thoughts of Sibyl crept into his mind causing him to attempt to pull away. Alas, Lord Henry was much too strong for him and merely responded by saying, "Running away so soon, my pet?"

"I can't! We can't!" responded Dorian.

"Why not?"

"Sibyl - "

"Sibyl is dead, Dorian Gray. She can pleasure you no more, but I am very much alive and well, and can give you all the pleasure you ever hoped and dreamed of..." Lord Henry pressed a hand against Dorian's swelled crotch, gently rubbing so as to drive the boy mad with lust.

Dorian moaned and pressed himself against Lord Henry's palm. Lord Henry smiled at himself, pleased with the reation he had caused in young Dorian. He took Dorian's hands into his own and raised thighhigh above the young man's head. He then tore away a strip of cloth from a discarded shirt and wrapped it around the boy's hands, tying them to the bedpost.

"Wha - what are you doing?" asked Dorian.

"Whatever I wish," answered Lord Henry. Then he bent down and slid Dorian's pants away from his delicate, thin body. "Tell me, Mr. Gray, do you like to be touched like this?"

He ran his nails over Dorian's thigh, causing shivers to run up and down his spine.

"Or would you rather be touched like this?"

He bent very low and breathed against Dorian's stomach, then pressed the tip of his tongue against his skin, causing his belly to twitch.

"Mm - m..." muttered Dorian.

"What, my dear? Did you say something?"

"More..."

"More? More of what?"

"More of... you..." begged Dorian, helplessly.

"Mmm..." Lord Henry purred into Dorian's ear, "I'm not ready to give you that... yet..." He pressed his groin down closer against Dorian's, causing Dorian to groan in response. Only a thin piece of cloth that was Lord Henry's trousers separated their heated flesh. Lord Henry continued his assault on Dorian's erect nipples, then kissed a trail down to his stomach. Finally he reached the trail of fine hair leading to the prize that he was really after. He looked up wickedly at Dorian, whose breathing had grown ragged, whose eyes begged him to continue. Then he very slowly and painstakingly brought his tongue to the tip of Dorian's manhood and began to make long, graceful strokes up and down the shaft.

"Ah, gods! Harry!" Dorian said, relishing the sweet torture that lord Henry was bestowing upon him. He lifted his hips upward, trying to arch into the man's mouth, but Lord Henry's hands held his hips firmly against the bed. The torture went on for what seemed like an eternity, Dorian dying to thrust into his assailant. Then Lord Henry lifted his head away from Dorian's groin, crossed his arms on Dorian's chest and rested his head upon them.

"A job well-done, wouldn't you agree?"

"Finish, Harry!" Dorian had grown ecstatic.

"Hmm?"

"Finish what you started!"

"You know, my boy, you don't get very far with me by making demands. You must ask nicely."

"Please, Harry... and let me touch you..."

"Well, if you insist..." He untied Dorian's hands only to find himself being suddenly flipped over into the position his victim was previously in. Dorian pinned Lord Henry against the bed, seizing the man's mouth with his own, thrusting his tongue against the other man's, grasping onto the chocolate hair that graced the man's head. Then he pulled away from the kiss, ripped open Lord Henry's trousers revealing his large manhood, and said in a husky voice, "Now finish what you started."

Lord Henry smiled up at Dorian. "As you wish..." He reached around Dorian's waist and brought it down to meet his own, then wrapped his legs around the younger man's hips and began thrusting so that their cocks banged harshly into each other. Lord Henry reached down with his hand and stroked Dorian's engorgement roughly. Dorian moaned and thrust hard at Lord Henry's hand. Finally, Dorian came, screaming out Lord Henry's name as he spilled his seed all over the man's chest. Lord Henry came right after, both of them then covered in sweat and cum, panting as they came down from their zenith of delight.

Dorian rested his fair head against Lord Henry's chest, his breathing finally becoming manageable. "Harry..." he murmured.

Lord Henry stroked the younger man's hair, running his fingers through its luscious waves. "Mmm... Dorian... You certainly are a prize to be had..."

A single tear ran down Dorian's cheek. "Sibyl..." he said quietly. Lord Henry sat upright.

"Good God, man! She's a stiff! And a talentless stiff at that! Besides, I'll bet she could never make you cum like I can! What more do I have to prove to you?"

"Tell me you love me, Harry," Dorian pleaded.

Lord Henry scowled, "Dorian... I love your cock. This thing between us, this sexual interlude we just had, well, that's all it is. Pure, simple, no-strings-attached sex."

"You said you wanted to make me feel better..."

"Well, you do feel better, don't you?"

"I just thought..."

"That we'd have a nice little relationship after this whole thing was said and done?"

Dorian nodded. But Lord Henry made no response.

"So that's it then?" Dorian inquired, another tear forming at his eyelid.

"Oh Heavens no! I plan on bedding you at least three times a week!" Dorian's face brightened up. "Why, between the two of us we'll ravage so many Ladies, and Lords if you like, the whole of London will be know us by cock size!"

"Really?"

"Oh yes," he said, "But let's think no more on it tonight. Come, let me hold you until the morrow, and then I'll off."

"As you wish, m'lord," Dorian replied. He smiled rather smugly as he watched Lord Henry drift off to sleep. Tears over Sibyl Vane? Ha! Now he had Lord Henry Wotton right in the palm of his hand...