There was a subtle knock of the door; Nicholas scanned his eyes across the room once more. Everything seemed to be in order, he thought. Let us see what we shall see.
The door opened, revealing his trusted servant, bodyguard, fixer and partner in business, Wells. The man had an imposing figure, tall, square-shouldered, very large hands and equally large feet. He had an inscrutable face that could be both subservient and superior, often at the same time, certainly not a man to be taken lightly and one that had extricated Nicholas from more than one violent situation.
Behind his imposing frame stood a medium, slight man of about fifty. His near shoulder-length hair was fully greying at the sides and his side-whiskers had long gone to a near white. He was of medium height, very slim and although he carried himself well for his age, filling his space with an assurance that very probably came from his newly privileged position of acquired wealth, he was also somewhat hesitant. A new opportunity in which to spend his money had no doubt raised itself, which is why he had come knocking at my door thought Nicholas. Still, he was definitely new to wealth and therefore new to the more unusual luxuries that money could buy.
The younger man smiled warmly and beckoned his visitor to enter.
"Please sir, do come in, and take a seat. You found the place alright I see."
"Yes" the older man hesitated a little, not quite sure where he should sit.
Wells locked eyes with Nicholas. The glint of amusement was unmistakeable. They had discussed the arrival of this particular new client and had come to the conclusion that money would, potentially, not be a limited commodity as far as the visitor was concerned. Although there was always the possibility that a new client would bolt before being ensnared, by actually physically coming face to face with Nicholas, most of the procurement had already been done. Nevertheless, Wells did feel that it would perhaps be advisable if Nicholas were to put on a particularly good display of his wares, so to speak.
Wells stiffly nodded to both Nicholas and his visitor and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.
Nicholas gave another broad smile and offered one of the overly large, thick-armed casual chairs scattered around the room, one that had its back to the large window, but gave a position in which the light was framed well. Nicholas, who in many respects was a perfectionist, had no intention of allowing shadow to ruin any performance.
The older man sighed as he sat in the large, though comfortable chair. He placed a large crystal topped cane which he had been carrying, between his open thighs, leaned on it with both hands and surveyed the much younger man in front of him. Nicholas did not sit, but instead leaned casually against the mantle of the unlit fireplace.
"You have come far sir?" asked Nicholas casually.
"Far enough" was the minimal reply.
"Perhaps you would like a smoke, something to drink even."
The older man shook his head. "I need nothing at the moment." He stopped and then seeming to remember his manners, added briefly "but I thank you."
Nicholas smiled again. He paused for a moment, noticing the decided shake of the older man's hands as they held firmly on to his cane. "Am I right in believing that I was recommended by a mutual acquaintance?"
"Yes, Sir Mot.."
"No names are necessary here sir." Nicholas exclaimed quickly. He smiled disarmingly at the nervous seated individual. "My clients are, shall we say, a group of men of individual needs and requirements. Names can sometimes complicate matters," he smiled again "If you know what I mean."
The older man moved his lower jaw, his focus lost in a thought. Nicholas waited patiently, he was in no hurry.
"Yes, I see." The seated man eventually replied. "It is as well to be cautious, considering..." He raised his eyes and glanced furtively at Nicholas, "the object and nature of our needs and requirements." He smiled briefly.
Nicholas waited patiently while the older man tried to work around his own reasoning as to why he had travelled miles into the countryside in order to visit a young man he had never met before. Both men were of course well aware as to why they were in this place and at this point in time. Lust, no matter how furtively hidden, was present across the face of the visitor, from his burning eyes, to his flaring nostrils, from his motion of constantly wetting his dry lips to the repeated up and down journey of his adam's apple. The man was nervous and Nicholas was to allow for that nervousness, but that he had come for him specifically, that he wanted him, of that he was certain.
"You seem," said the nervous visitor "to be in a somewhat isolated position for a man of so few years. As a young man do you not miss the temptations of the city?" Nicholas shrugged. "I personally prefer a more rural setting. City life has its diversions of course, but..."
"Yes?"
Nicholas smiled knowingly. "The country retreat to me has become that, a retreat. Somewhere where I can entertain with impunity, allow discretion to be the common factor. No one bothers me here and my client list is full and regular. It is perhaps inconvenient in some respects for those travelling to me, but I think you might agree, it is very much worth it."
Nicholas made sure that the seated man was aware that his gaze had travelled to his visitors by now swelling manhood. He gave a knowing, almost companionable smile. We men of the world know what it is to be men with desires and needs, it implied. The visitor moved his thin behind around the plush seat, not so much in embarrassment, but in acknowledgement of the younger man's gaze.
"Anyway" he continued. We know why you have travelled here, what you are expecting, so shall we make a start perhaps?"
The seated man nodded vigorously.
"Firstly, the delicate matter of money. Everything, as I am sure that you are aware, has its price." With this Nicholas, who had already removed his jacket, rested his arms briefly on the mantel his back to the room, thus giving the older man a clear view of the younger man's buttocks.
The visitor caught his breath as he was meant to. Although Nicholas was well aware of, and had been told on numerous occasions, that the firm rounded cheeks of his behind were a near divine inspiration, this from a bishop and who would know better than he? He never took anything for granted, which was why he had all of his trousers specifically made at a choice tailors in town. The fabric was so finely woven that it hugged his body leaving little to the imagination, and without underwear, which he never wore, imagination certainly ran riot.
Nicholas turned to face his visitor, allowing the light to outline the path of his own engorged member, he received another gasp, so much so that the older man nearly lost the grip of his crystal-topped cane. He trembled in anticipation, but tried to maintain the conversation in at least a modicum of civility.