He laughed long and loud at that. “You have not even spilled yet.”
I giggled shyly at that. “I want you to as well.”
Reiter rubbed his thumb over my lower lip, and I could taste a bit of saltiness there when my tongue swept over it. “You have so much to explore. And I will explore with you.”
I nodded, then nearly leaped out of my skin as Reiter slid further up my hips, and his cock rubbed against mine. My arm flung across my eyes at the unexpected sensation. I peered down between us to watch as Reiter slid his own stiff prick under mine, then closed his large hand around them both, starting to slowly stroke them together. My head tossed to the side in pleasure, and my hands went back up above my head to grip my jacket as I bit my lower lip. His sheath rubbed against the underside of my own, silky and slick. I moaned eagerly as his hand sped up. “Mm. Don’t stop,” I heard myself say.
“I won’t,” Reiter said with a chuckle, slowing his hand to give a single long, languid stroke before starting to stroke us both again with renewed energy.
I had only spilled myself a few times in my life. It had never been all that pleasurable, and I was confused why my adolescent male friends would constantly be talking about any sort of passionate encounter, even if it was with their own hand. But now, as Reiter’s strong, calloused fingers moved over us, our hips and stiff cocks pressed so firmly to each other, I wondered if perhaps I had simply been waiting for someone to enjoy the experience with. His hand was careful not to stroke too hard but still created such delicious friction between us. His other hand moved to stroke my cheek. I leaned into it, closing my eyes, just letting the heat build between us.
My hips bucked beneath him, though I could not move far with him perched atop me as he was. So I simply lay still and let him rub us together, his hand moving faster and faster. My body burned with delightful heat, drawing sounds out of me that I had never made before. And each one made his head next to me smile. When the ridge on the top of his cock rubbed against the underside of my own where head met shaft, I jerked and tossed my head about. “That,” I pleaded desperately, not even sure what I was asking for, but Reiter just chuckled and did it again. I made a sound not unlike the yowling of a cat in heat, thrashing for several enthusiastic strokes before I spilled myself over Reiter’s hand, my seed coating my trousers and a bit of his own as well. I collapsed back against the floor, trying to remember how to breathe. Reiter’s hand had stilled after I had stopped ejaculating, but I still shuddered with painful pleasure when he carefully pulled his slick hand and cock away from mine.
I moaned, feeling sticky, which was mildly unpleasant, but I did not care enough to move. Until I opened my eyes to see that he still straddled me, cock in hand, unsatisfied. I quickly sat up, so fast that he actually jumped. “May I?” I asked, motioning to his straining shaft.
Reiter moved his hand away in acquiescence, and I wrapped my fingers around him, trying to mimic the way he had held it himself. I began to stroke him back and forth, slowly at first, which I could tell frustrated him with how close he was in his own passion. Once I had figured out a rhythm, I began to move faster, and Reiter let out a groan of pleasure. “Yes,” he said through clenched teeth next to me as I worked his cock between my long fingers. Encouraged, I stroked him like that for a few moments before picking up the speed again, watching his foreskin stretch in fascination. And then he let out a yell, his hips jerking, and his seed spilled from the head of his shaft, coating my shirt and hand. I continued to stroke him, as he had me, until he hissed and gently pushed my hand away. “Enough,” he chided.
I laughed, wiping the mess on my trouser legs, since they were already messy from my own release. Reiter got off of me and slumped backward, seeming in a daze. Before he could do anything else, I scooped up his head from the floor next to me and planted a kiss firmly on his hot, open mouth. He moaned against my lips. I kissed him for a long moment before pulling him away. I realized with consternation that I had left a sticky smear of seed on his cheek from my hands. “Sorry,” I said, starting to swipe at it, but his body leaned over to still my touch before wiping it off himself with his thumb, and then sticking it into his mouth. He moaned, closing his eyes as he seemingly enjoyed the taste of our mingled passions. That sound went down my spine like lightning, despite being slightly mortified at the situation. I had just slaked my carnal lust for the first time with another person, and with someone who, while very much human, was not amongst the living. That felt strange. I wondered for a brief moment if maybe I was going to Hell before I realized that it did not matter. What mattered was Reiter in front of me, his fingers tracing gently over my calf.
Once both of us seemed to have returned to ourselves, I held his head to my chest before moving to cuddle against his warm torso. “Was that all right?” he asked me, and I felt the vibration of his words against my frame.
“Yes,” I said. “Did I pleasure you the right way?”
Reiter laughed. “Yes, you were excellent, schoolmaster.”
I flushed at that, letting his arms settle around me. I was feeling hot and sticky now, and my clothing definitely needed to be washed, but I did not want to move yet. Something about what we had just done felt important, though I could not articulate exactly what it was. But I wanted it. I wanted to experience it, and more. I wanted to live.
“I am going to help you break this curse,” I said suddenly, sitting up from his body and lifting his head to level with mine so quickly that his eyes took a moment to focus.
“What?” he asked.
“I am going to help you break the curse,” I said again. “Katrina said that you would be a spirit until the day she died.” If there was one thing I had learned about folklore, the way that vows and oaths were worded made all the difference. “If she dies, perhaps your spirit may be set free. And perhaps then the curse would be lifted from Sleepy Hollow.”
Reiter seemed surprised by this idea. “I suppose it is possible,” he said thoughtfully.
“Have you not tried before?” I asked.
“No,” Reiter said. “If I am not on this hallowed ground, I am vulnerable to her. I could be injured or killed like any other mortal.” He sighed. “I thought about letting her kill me, many times. But I worried what she might do if the villagers no longer had the Headless Horseman to blame. That she might perhaps curse someone else.”
At first, that surprised me, but then I realized how much of a kind-hearted person Reiter really was. It was not in his nature to be violent or to take vengeance. That seemed very much like the sort of thing he would worry about, that someone else would be locked into a lonely existence like his own, and my insides ached once again for his loss.
“If we could lift this curse, together, would you want to?”
Reiter’s body straightened in surprise. “I could not ask such a thing of you, Ichabod. You are mortal, and she is very powerful.”
“You are not asking me,” I said firmly. “I am offering to help.”
“No, I could not let you,” Reiter replied in a stern tone.
My lips twitched in a smile. “Perhaps then it is good that I have never been one for doing as I am told.”
Reiter sighed heavily. “Ichabod…”
“What are my other choices?” I demanded. “I flee, only to be stuck here in these woods until the villagers find me and burn me. I die on Halloween, and you continue to exist in this half-life of sacrifices, watching Sleepy Hollow be trapped in time. Why should I not attempt to free you and the other villagers from her? I have nothing left to lose.”
“But I could lose you,” Reiter pointed out.
“I am going to die if we do nothing,” I responded, the words bitter on my tongue. “If we can break the spell holding you here, even if I die, at least you will not have to live through more lifetimes of sacrifices.”
