Battle of the Rhine

The second floor remained the same, with the curtains in Michael's chosen color, but no longer as bright.He sat on the bed and watched as Quincy picked up a nightgown. "New," the man said. "There's... no one lives here, so—"

"He lives upstairs with you?" Michael couldn't help asking, stupid impulse, yes, that's all you care about, you dirty Yankee.Quincy's eyes twinkled. "Yeah. I'm going to take a shower."

He left and closed the door.Michael held the brand new nightgown in a daze.He had to take a shower and clean himself up.The mirror in the bathroom was dim, and Michael looked at the gloomy guy in the mirror—blue stubble on the chin, red nose, wheezing, and burning eyes.He was like a raging bull, ready to smash his rivals in the stomach with his horns.He had seen bulls fight many times, with their horns touching and their hooves digging out dust.

Michael rinsed himself, scrubbing his skin with the dry bar of soap.By the time he finished washing, it was already dark, and the air in the dark room was cold and damp.He turned on the bedside lamp, only to realize it was the one he and Quincy had bought together.Orange red cover, Michael's favorite color.He never asked Quincy if he really liked these bright and lively colors. Before he, the invader, invaded the house, Quincy had always chosen cold and low-key blue, black, gray or white.He kept "convincing" Quincy, changing the curtains, the sofa cover, the wallpaper...and then leaving the house and its owner behind.He didn't even spend that Christmas with Quincy, even if there was only one week left...Michael held his breath, unable to imagine Quincy's feelings—he was so cruel.

There were small noises outside the door. Someone came downstairs and wandered around the door like a lost cat.After a while, the door opened and Quincy came in wrapped in a nightgown.His legs were bare, which meant he was wearing nothing under his nightgown.He tried his best to smile at Michael, and then whispered, "...what do you want to do?"

"Whatever," Michael said.

Quincy approached slowly, raised his hand bewilderedly, and put it down again.He looked at Michael's expression, showing a moment of fear, and then turned numb.He knelt down in front of Michael, reached into his nightgown, and parted the bottom of his robe.Michael felt the hand was cold, with cold sweat on the palm.Quincy took his cock and stroked it lightly, rubbing his thumb over the head with just the right amount of force—it was a pleasant experience, but it made Michael furious.He hadn't had Quincy masturbate for him before, and he hadn't seen Quincy masturbate.It's impossible for a college student to be without desire, he just hides and never lets Michael see.The current "proper" strength is by no means Quincy's own comprehension, someone is definitely "teaching" him...

Quincy probably sensed Michael's displeasure, raised his head, and gave him a quick look.This time Michael confirmed that there was indeed fear in those blue eyes.He was scared, but he tried to hide it, lowered his eyes, and continued to focus on Michael's hardened thing.He held Michael's penis with his hand, opened his mouth, and swallowed it hesitantly.The mouth was warm and soft, and soon Quincy entered the "state", his tongue was like a snake revived from hibernation, licking and sucking nimbly.He seemed to be obsessed with doing this, with his eyes closed, a mass of red rose on his cheeks, as if dreaming, and even a little happy—until he was pushed away by Michael and fell to the floor, he woke up from the illusion, the corners of his mouth With a little mucus hanging, he looked at Michael dully.

"Get off," Michael said, "fuck you bitch-- get off!"

Quincy stood up, stepped back, then turned and left.Michael jumped up and jumped at him, hugged his waist, and dragged him back to the bed like a wrestling, pushing him face down into the pillow.Quincy struggled like crazy, her nightgown was disheveled, revealing her white shoulders.Michael bit him hard, like a wolf tearing at its prey. "Damn it," he yelled indignantly, "you, that Frenchman—I'm going to kill him, I'm going to kill him!"

He was really too angry, the stars burst out in front of his eyes, the anger swept through every millimeter of nerves, his whole body was on fire, and the fire was burning. "Fuck him," Michael muttered, "fuck him, that French dog, fuck... I'm going to kill him, chop off his dick, how dare he do this to you!" He pulled the piece off The pajamas were in the way, and the two naked bodies were tightly pressed together.He twisted Quincy's wrist with one hand, grabbed Quincy's waist with the other, and positioned him for entry, and then he went in, and Quincy let out a whimper, and died He seemed motionless.

Michael thrust hard a few times, Quinnessy felt tight and hot deep inside, which somewhat soothed his anger.He couldn't help imagining that the Frenchman must be doing the same, riding Quincy in this position and fucking him. "How many times has he fucked you?" Michael grabbed Quincy's neck. "Fuck, that French bastard... how many times has he fucked you? - you, you bastard, I leave you... no I won't leave you... I'm keeping you in Germany... I didn't want you to sleep with a French frog! You fucking... are you so inseparable from men!"

With that, he came, slumped on Quincy's back, panting.Quincy twitched, and slowly raised his arms, shaking Michael away.He shivered and wrapped himself in a bed sheet. Under the warm orange light of the desk lamp, his handsome face was covered with vertical and horizontal water marks, shining brightly.

"Yeah, I can't live without men—I'm gay, didn't I tell you?" He shrank his legs. "Keep me in Germany? That's a nice word, Mike. I've fucking figured it out, you Leaving Munich, leaving Germany, just to leave me. Because I ask too much of you, don't I? I don't mention that, and you'll stay, stay in this house, stay with me By my side, cooking, gardening, and cleaning the bathroom. I don’t have to thank you, you take care of me just to sleep with me. I’ll give you everything I can, and I’ll give you what I shouldn’t… Of course, that You don't need it. You just need me to wash up, lie down, and spread my legs. Too bad I was so stupid at the time, thought you were for, for other reasons. Thinking about it makes me feel poor. A man , alone... don't want any dignity... I'm just a fucking joke." Quincy wiped the corners of his eyes with the sheet, "I'm so pitiful, right? But I deserve it again. I thought , you will write a letter. You have been in Bonn for six months, six months, Mike, and not even a note has come. I said I would not pester you, are you so afraid of me? Or, in your In my heart, I am just a captive, not worth mentioning?... You are right, how can there be feelings between men? Impossible, without legal and moral constraints, the return of homosexuality is the perdition of carnal desire. Gabriel Franker than you, he will not find so many high-sounding reasons. He admitted that he likes me because of my appearance, unlike you...and he is a gentleman, asking my wishes every time. Yes, he fucked me a lot Second. What can we do together? Isn’t it just sex? At least he won’t rape me, worry about my feelings, don’t come and leave whenever he wants, and fuck me whatever he wants... My answer satisfies you Are you curious and unwilling?" He trembled, "Okay, please get out—I don't want to see you again."