Upstairs, Henry pushed Martin up against the doorand kissed him hard and thoroughly, enjoying the sugary sweetness ofhis mouth. They undressed on their way to the bed, leaving astraggling trail of clothing on the floor behind them. Martininsisted on straightening the bedding that Henry had earlier put intodisarray, but then they climbed up onto the bed and picked up wheretheyd left off.Martin let Henryscock slide out of his mouth. Henry, Henry please.What is it?Put your fingersin me, please, Henry. He sucked Henrys cock back intohis mouth and moaned around it as Henry did as hed asked. Henrycrooked his fingers inside Martins body and Martin was shudderingstill and spilling down his throat in short order.It didnt takelong for Henry after that; he felt he could come at will once Martinwas satisfied. Martin lay with him a few minutes enjoying theafterglow but soon became restless.Henry?Yes?While youreresting, could I play my violin?Naked?Would you likethat?Henry loved the ideaof watching Martin play nude, dipping and swaying with hispink-and-white skin bared and tawny hair hanging loose. Yes, ofcourse. Id love that.Ill just goget it, then.Violin held ready,Martin stood naked a few feet from the bedside, elegant and poised,and began playing the first movement of the partita, the allemande.He quickly lost himself in the music, eyes closed and brow furrowedin concentration. Henry lay back amongst the pillows and took fulladvantage of the opportunity to admire Martin at leisure,appreciating the play of lean muscles beneath pale skin. As Martinshifted his weight from side to side, the fans of tendons across thetops of his feet were in fleeting evidence; likewise, the cords stoodout on the back of his bow hand, and the muscles tensed and relaxedin his forearms as he played. Sharply-defined muscles were taut inhis long thighs. Eyes still closed, his handsome face was shaped byeffort into something almost saintly, suffering beautifully as hisfingers formed the notes. His pretty cock lay limp in its nest ofcurls at first, but began to thicken as he played, and surely thiswas because Henry was watching him.Perhaps a quarter ofan hour passed while Martin played the first four movements withsurety and skill, the music leaving his bow in silvery, sparklingribbons. Over the course of these few months, Henry had become veryfamiliar with this music, but he never tired of it. Martins loveof the partita was exalted, spiritual in nature, and Henrys wasjust dumb, animal pleasure, but it was love all the same. He didntknow one note from another, but he knew the tunes and recognized themovements, and this knowledge made him feel sophisticated and allowedhim to feel closer to Martin. The partita was definitely somethingthey shared now, something of theirs.Martin hesitated along moment at the end of the gigue and then began thedifficult chaconne. He played only a minute or so before helifted the bow from the strings, and smiled at Henry. Do youremember when you touched yourself? While I was playing?Henry reddened. Ofcourse he remembered! How could he possibly have forgotten? But allhe said was, Yes, I remember. It had been mortifying andexhilarating in equal parts.We could do thatnext. Martins half-hard cock lurched