Date: Wed, 27 Nov 2013 22:11:24 -0800 (PST) From: Harrison Westbourne Subject: WESTBRIDGE SPIRIT: CHAPTER 2 I thank you for your continued interest in my stories. This is the second installment of WESTBRIDGE SPIRIT. Please continue to look for more chapters of this tale to come. Thank you for your interest and support. AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is a fantasy involving consensual gay sex between young men and older men, as well as love among men, and some paranormal activity. The people in the story do not use protection because diseases do not exist here. In real life, PLEASE ALWAYS USE PROTECTION WHEN ENGAGING IN SEXUAL ACTIVITY. Also, if this sort of material offends you, is illegal where you live, or you are under 18 years of age, PLEASE LEAVE THIS SITE NOW! This story is copyrighted by Harrison Westbourne. It can ONLY be downloaded for personal enjoyment, NOT for republication or sale and distribution. If you wish to provide feedback, comments, or suggestions, please feel free to contact me, using the story title as the subject line, at harrisonwestbourne@yahoo.com In order to keep this site free, please consider a donation by using this code: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html If you enjoy this story please visit my other story at http://west.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/daryls-enlightenment/ Brief recap of Chapter 1 of WESTBRIDGE SPIRIT Anxiously, I waited as Marcel approached my pants. With his teeth, he unbuckled my belt and unzipped my slacks. His tongue search my underwear waistband until it found the crown of my already dripping organ. That is when his lips took over and in a slow, torturous fashion slid down the length of my shaft. I was so close that he almost got a huge load in the first few moments. Continuing to pull my clothing off, he sucked harder and harder until I couldn't resist. Yelling that I was cumming, he pulled back to the tip and swallowed volley after volley of cum without a missed drop. WESTBRIDGE SPIRIT: CHAPTER TWO (2) While I was still recovering, Marcel raised my legs onto his very broad shoulders exposing my tender rosebud. I shuddered as he began feasting on my hole as if it were fine caviar. Each time his tongue broke through my tight ring, I quivered and moaned causing my still hard cock to throb furiously. He was an expert rimmer and was soon using three of his long, shapely fingers to open me up even further. Crawling between my legs with my ankles perched next to his neck, he stared into my eyes and asked if I was ready to be his. Unsure but excited, I simply nodded yes immediately. He positioned his thick crown at my love tunnel and pressed slowly forward. Watching my face for any discomfort, more and more of his thick, 9.5 inches slid into my ass until I could feel his bush and balls against mine. I felt fuller than I ever had before and moaned as I thrust back against him. Taking that as a go-ahead sign, he began to withdraw until just his head was still in me. Then slowly he stroked back and forth hitting my prostate at almost every angle. He soon found a steady rhythm that was making both of us sweat and gasp for breath. The longer he fucked, the more I wanted it. His skills in the bedroom were an equal match to those in the kitchen. After what seemed like an eternity, I felt my balls start to tighten in that familiar sensation. "I'm close. Please make me shoot!" I practically screamed between down strokes. Marcel took my cock in his left hand and matched himself thrust for thrust. It only took a minute or two until my orgasm erupted all over my face and chest. My ass ring convulsed around the base of his dick and I felt him emptying himself inside me. He screamed as he buried his rod to the depths of my tunnel. With the heat subsiding, he collapsed next to me pulling out with a wet pop. A quick kiss and we drifted off to sleep, spent but satisfied. The next morning I woke first and cleaned up. Ordering room service for breakfast, I returned to the bedroom in the suite just as Marcel was rising. He looked handsome even with his bed hair and stunned facial expression. Slowly, he realized that he was naked in the bed and guilt flashed over his eyes. "Did we have sex last night?" Marcel asked quietly. "Yes. You were a little drunk and things got out of control." I said. "How far...Did we fuck?" he asked haltingly. "You sucked and fucked me." I smiled. "But don't worry, I loved it" He put his head in his hands and began to softly cry. I rushed over and wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close. Kissing his forehead and stroking his hair, I held him until his body relaxed. Marcel looked up at me with red, bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. "You're a student and a minor." he exclaimed. "I crossed a line that shouldn't be touched." Softly, I said, "I know but don't mind. Nothing happened that I didn't want to as well. It's a secret between you and I." We ate some breakfast and Marcel got showered and dressed for the final day of the competition. As he and I headed for the kitchen, I could sense he felt better about our little tryst. Meeting the monitors for the event, we and the other competitors were given our instructions and allowed to go to our cooking stations. The next few hours flew by as we worked to complete the required tasks. We even managed to find a little time to relax and joke with each other. As the judging neared, my mother and uncle arrived to witness the final results. I was pleasantly surprised to see Theodore sitting with them in the audience. It made my dick harden at the thought of him being there for Marcel and I. He looked so handsome and proud that I wanted to jump his bones right in the room. Switching my focus to the judges' table, Marcel and I awaited the results of the competition. After a fierce deliberation, the host was ready to reveal the winner. There were only 3 teams in the final round and all of us were on pins and needles. The host revealed the 2nd Runner-up was the team from New York City. That left a duo from London and Marcel and I. Tension was extremely high as the crowd leaned in for the winner's name. Finally, the winning team of Marcel and I was announced. The prize was $10,000 US and medals but it was the prestige that was more important. My family and Theo applauded the loudest as we received our awards. The next month was spent in preparation for my return to my final year in Paris. Theo and I spent as much time together as possible, mostly having sex anywhere or time. Marcel flew back a few days following the win and never mentioned the evening we shared. Soon enough, I was at the airport catching my plane to Europe, holding back tears as I said my final Goodbyes. My last year in Paris was more relaxed and went even better than my first. I enjoyed the limited attention I received from my classmates and teachers for the competition win and was rewarded with praise and extra assistance. As a result, I obtained my Cordon Bleu certification in a shorter period than usual and with higher marks. Even Marcel was duly impressed with the strength of my conviction and my skills. On the day before I was to fly home, I received an urgent page to come to the Director's Office. When I arrived, the director had me sit at his desk and told me there was an emergency phone call for me. He contacted his secretary and then discreetly left me alone. Picking up the receiver and found my Uncle Walter on the other end. He sounded like he had been crying and took some time to calm himself before he spoke. After hearing him take a deep breath, he began to speak. "Phillip, are you sitting down?" he asked. "I have some terrible news for you." My knees went weak as I said, "Okay. What happened? Is Mom okay?" "Honey, Theodore is gone. He was killed in a car accident last night." Walter managed to blurt out. I don't even remember anything more of the conversation. Dropping the phone, my vision blurred as the tears began. Screaming and feeling weak, I remember falling and hitting my head. When I awoke, the nurse and director were with me trying to console me. Marcel came in shortly after I came to and told me he spoke to Uncle Walter. He then informed the director that he would accompany me on the plane home. No one objected and we returned to my room to pack my things. As we started packing, I suddenly fell on the bed and wept uncontrollably. Marcel sat down and gently rubbed my back until I calmed a bit. He whispered that he understood my pain. What followed was his tale of how he lost his first love in a plane crash at around the same age as me. I thanked him and finished packing. Once done, we headed for the airport after the director presented me with my certification as a Pastry Chef Graduate. The flight home was somber and way too long. Marcel was my rock the entire trip but I reminded myself it was friendship not love. My love was gone and I would never recover. We landed and were met by my mom and Walter as well as Theo's parents. They hugged me and cried along with me. Over the next few days, the joy of my school success was blocked by the wake and funeral. As my part of the eulogy, I presented Theo with a gold ring I had secretly purchased in Paris. It was my way of "marrying" my love as I slipped the matching band on my left hand. Marcel stayed for two weeks until he had to return to teach the next group of classes. After a few weeks of therapy and some medication, I slowly started to rebuild my shattered life. Upon my returning to Chicago, my uncle was opening a new French restaurant, called La Belle Visage. His chief pastry chef was only going to work until Walter could find a replacement. After both of them gave me and several other applicants a series of auditions, I was hired along with a young lady named Victoria Newel. She had attended the Culinary Institute of America and done as well as I. Once we met, Vicky and I became fast friends since she knew I was gay and I knew she was also. We ended up splitting the rent on a nice two-bedroom apartment near the Gold Coast restaurant. I threw myself into my career with little time left for personal relationship let alone dating. Working allowed me to deal with my grief and anger at the world. One evening, Vicky dragged me to a bar because she felt I needed to relax. We danced and drank with the few people I had known and hung around. At one point, a young man who just became part of our group began talking to me. His name was Richard Oates, a twenty-one year -old business major at the University of Chicago. He came from a small farm town in Wisconsin. I was immediately smitten but ashamed that I felt I would be cheating on Theo. Richard was a tall drink of water at 6 feet 2 inches of farm-raised muscles. He had a farm boy tan which made his striking features even more alluring. Eyes that were a delicate shade of grey, full, red lips, trim nose, and strong jaw made for a pleasant countenance. He had a mop of shockingly bright blonde hair that was slightly beyond his shoulders. Based on the way his pants hugged his body, his crotch had to be well-endowed and almost always semi-hard. We spent a lot of that first evening just talking about our education. He was fascinated that I had studied in Paris and specialized in pastry. I offered to give him a private taste testing if he came by the restaurant one night. As the night drew to a close, Richard asked to walk me home and we talked some more. At my door, he gave me his phone number and shyly kissed me before turning and getting into a taxi. Vicky, who had left earlier due to an early morning, was waiting up for me and demanded to know all the juicy details. I told her we just talked and she smiled saying how nice it was to see me interested in someone new. Since it was late, I laughed and headed for my room. Behind my door, I though about what Theo would have said. He probably might tell me the same thing since I know he would want me to move on. La Belle Visage became a great success with the pastries being ranked among the finest in the city. After our first year, we were ranked among the top 5 in all of Chicago and 19 in the U.S. Walter and my mom were thrilled and planned a celebration and I invited Richard to attend as my special guest. Everyone was pleased that I had found anyone to talk to let alone consider dating. We had only been out a couple of times and not even gone further than hand holding or an occasional kiss. The party was a great success until a lawyer's representative from New York arrived. A meeting was set up for us at Uncle Walter's attorney's office to review the papers they were sent. Nobody knew what to expect but were we shocked. In the years after we left NYC, old man Nathaniel had passed on. His estate had been divided among his children. As of that year, only one daughter, Marie, remained alive but she suffered from a rare form of cancer. The rest had passed due to various illnesses and accidents. As each child died, all without heirs, the estate became concentrated with those remaining alive. Marie sent the lawyers because Andrew had just died and left his portion of the fortune to me, his illegitimate and only son. This led to my return to Westbridge Manor. Marie's lawyers indicated that her portion would be directed to me upon her passing as per her request, She only asked that I visit her for a short period of time so she could get to know me. And so here I am being driven down the long, winding driveway in a black Lincoln town car. Since I was unsure of what to expect, I asked Richard to go with me for moral support. Surprisingly, he said yes without hesitation and was holding my hand in the seat next to me. It is only the second time in my 23 years that I have been away from home by myself. I was unsure of what to expect. My uncle's attorney sat across from me assuring me that he would handle whatever details needed to be settled. I was too nervous and a little excited to really care or pay attention. Random images from my childhood flashed through my head but I couldn't be certain they were real or not. The house receding in the rear window, my mother crying softly in the next seat, and a feeling of something telling me I would return. Westbridge Manor had been built almost one century earlier by the forefather of Nathaniel's widower partner. It was modeled after the great French chateaux of the Loire River valley. Situated in the center of 500 acres of New York wilderness, a small creek ran through the property towards to Hudson River. It started as a small six room, two-story farmhouse that was expanded over the years. With one addition off the rear and two more at angles off the sides, only the front façade resembled the original house. There were also horse stables, tennis courts, a greenhouse and an indoor pool. Along with some formal gardens, there were acres of forested wilderness with hiking and horse trails carved through them. I arrived and was greeted by an older man in a butler's uniform, who introduced himself as Maybrook. Our bags were taken to our rooms, Richard and I in one room and my lawyer in another, as Maybrook showed us to the library where my Aunt Marie was waiting. After announcing our arrival, we entered the room to find it cozy, warm and filled with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. A large mahogany desk and leather wing-back chair sat on one side near the windows. The opposite wall held a large fireplace with two leather loveseats, coffee table, and two smaller chairs facing it. A colorful Persian rug was centered over highly polished maple- colored floors. Aunt Marie was sitting on one loveseat reading a book and sipping tea. She smiled and waved us over. As she rose, I leaned over and kissed her hand as my lawyer made the introductions of himself, Richard, and I. We sat opposite her as Maybrook offered us both tea. Once we were served, he retreated to wait further requests. The four of us chatted about my trip and the reason for my visit, She indicated that she wanted a chance to get to know about her only living relative left. Due to her illness, Marie appeared very frail and somewhat soft-spoken. She claimed to be free of pain, but you could see her wince as she moved. When asked about her siblings, she quietly stated that the family had very bad luck with poor judgment and faulty genes. After a short conversation, Maybrook showed us to our rooms and suggested we rest until dinner. He told us we had about four hours and someone would come to get us. I thanked him and began to examine my room. The king-sized bed had four huge carved posts and massive head and foot boards, made of oak. A large armoire, a dresser with a large mirror ,another high dresser with six drawers, and a small desk and office chair were scatted around the room. A small fireplace was closest to the desk with a large mantle over which hung an oil painting of a young dark-haired man with brilliant green eyes. With jet lag beginning to set in, I decided to tap a short nap before dinner. Pulling out my travel alarm clock, I set it to allow time to clean and dress, removed my shoes, and laid down on the softest mattress I had ever felt. Richard came up behind me and wrapped his strong arms around me. He kissed the nape of my neck and rocked his crotch slowly into my backside. I could feel his prominent erection through his tweed slacks and softly pushed back. Turning around, I stared into his beautiful eyes and kissed him with such passion I could hardly believe myself. We rolled on the bed and laughed as we made out ferociously. Clothing was tenderly removed and body parts caressed and tongued. Slowly, we rotated our body into a 69 position and began to envelope each other's dripping cocks. Richard was as well endowed as I suspected, appearing to measure almost 8.5 inches fully aroused. He gobbled my 8 inches with equal furor. The closer we got to orgasm, the more I wanted something personal and intimate. Breaking our mutual activity, I softly begged him to fuck me. Richard moved me on my back and proceeded to tongue my hole until I couldn't stand any more. With a tenderness I had not experienced in the months since Theo's passing, he entered me inch by inch filling me to the brink as he bottomed out. Once inside, he leaned down to kiss me before starting a long, slow, intense fuck session. This lasted for almost ten minutes until I exploded all over both of us. As I came, Richard screamed, pushed in completely, and unloaded inside me. Taking a few minutes to recover, we went to the bathroom, cleaned up, and returned to bed for our nap. TO BE CONTINUED... If you enjoy this story please visit my other story at http://west.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/daryls-enlightenment/