Date: Sun, 03 Dec 2000 18:36:55 -0000 From: Jamie Subject: Chris-and-Jamie Chapter 13 Same stuff - don't read this is u r underage or u don't like reading stories of love between two boys. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ To Luke; whose wonderful stories keep me writing. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The car jumped as it hit a small rock in the road; I woke up instantly and rubbed my eyes. Looking around me I remembered where I was. My parents, Chris and I were going to our new house. It had been three days since my Grandfather had died, and my Dad had officially taken up the dukedom. Now, we needed to move to the family home. At fourteen, I couldn't understand a thing of what was going on. It was all like a fairytale story to me; all I could liken it to was the book "Little Lord Fauntleroy". Chris helped explain it to me, by just staring blankly whenever the subject was mentioned. Chris lifted his sleeping head slightly, rubbed his nose and laid down again. Every now and then muffled noises escaped his mouth and all I could do was watch him sleep. His chest rose and fell in syncopation. The light t-shirt he was wearing was slightly damp at the top, where he had been sweating -- the air conditioner in the car was turned up to full power. The reason for this was that we had discovered, just after the announcement of my Grandparents death that my Mother was in full possession of a very bad bout of influenza. She moved from hot to cold day by day; today she was shivering constantly, hence the heat. Even though it was the day before Christmas, I had stripped down to a basic t-shirt and even Chris, who is usually always cold, had discarded the heavy jumper that had been presented to him upon his return to the UK by his parents. Another jolt in the car caused Chris to be roused from the midst of sleep and gasp back the stale air trapped in his mouth. `Hey, Jamie, we there yet?' He asked, as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. `Just around the corner.' I told him. At that moment we turned the corner and were met with ten-foot high wrought iron gates. As we approached they swung open and admitted us to the gravel path, leading up to the main house. When we had been travelling for about five minutes we had reached the crest of a small hill in the path and could see all the way up to the house...if I can call it a house. The building towered before us in an old, imposing gothic style with a huge arch encompassing the double front door. A set of twin towers at opposite ends rose together until they spiralled and discontinued, looming high over the house's main roof. The whole building screamed "horror movie". It seemed to have been built for that purpose alone. No one could ever feel at home in a place as cold looking as this. The car passed over a small lake and rode to the main door. Turning in a short arc, the car came to a rest, sideways on to the door. My Dad got out and opened my Mother's door. A tall man came running out and lifted my Mother out of the car. To say that they were surprised was an understatement. `Did your Grace have a pleasant drive?' He directed to my Father. `Er...I'm not really used to any of this. I don't mean to be rude, but who are you?' My Father's bewilderment was obviously rising at every movement this guy made. `My name is Henry Thomas. I was the equerry to your Father, the late Duke of Nottingham. My duties here used to include looking after the family, but since I was informed you would be taking a more laid-back approach I will now confine myself to managing the estate and the small farm within the grounds.' He carried my Mother in through the doors of the house. The hall loomed into view; it felt very cold and empty. A shiver ran down my back and Chris pulled me to him, and began to rub my arms. Henry proceeded through the hall and to the right. He entered, what I could only describe as a lounge area and laid my Mother on a sofa. `If you need to know anything about the house or its grounds, just ask Miss Williams.' A tall, thin woman stepped out from behind a curtain and smiled a thin, wry smile. I disliked her from the start. She had an air about her of one who thinks she knows more than she really should know. The type of person who likes to find out as much as she could about a person and then go around telling everyone the gory and unpleasant details. Another shiver came over me. `Good morning your Grace.' She nodded to my Father. `And the young Earl and his friend.' The last part was added with a manifest sarcasm, directed so obviously towards myself. However, no one seemed to notice this. `Boyfriend.' I corrected quickly. Chris spun his head and looked at me in surprise. The retort was bitter and calculated. I felt slightly sheepish. `Oh, is that what we call our friends these days. I get confused.' She tried to laugh, but failed miserably in the attempt at false humour. I tried to correct her again, just as Chris clamped a hand to my mouth. `Er...so what is the house like?' Chris quickly questioned, and released me from his grasp. `The house is called Hatches Chase. It includes 108 acres of land, including a small lake, two areas of woodland and a small farm on the south side of the valley. It is only 10 miles from the city of St. Matthews and so I am led to believe that you are continuing your education at the College you are attending at the moment. The third Duke of Nottingham built the Chase in 1804 to encompass his lavish lifestyle. It was constructed from a small country house, built in 1621, in a gothic style to coincide with the gentleman's tastes. Now it remains the sole property of the Duchy, belonging to whoever holds the title at present. In this case, your friend's...sorry...your boyfriend's Father.' She was beginning to irritate me even further. Chris noticed this and quickly began with another question, worried that I may say something that I would regret. `And so how does this whole lord thing work?' My Dad began to chuckle at Chris's American phrasing of the question, but was quite intrigued as to the answer. `Well, in 1769 a man called Henry Windsor was given the title of Duke of Nottingham by the present King -- George III -- in return for favours received from him in the way of his marriage to the German queen. The title and the estate passes down through the eldest son, who in 1894 was first given the courtesy title of Earl of Sandringham.' She indicated me with the tip of her pen. `Your friend, here, has the privilege to be the fourth Earl of Sandringham. However...' I knew there would be some way she could get her own back on me -- here it comes. `...The title holds no official rank and the Earl of Sandringham is only styled as a viscount and not as an Earl.' Yeah, sure - whatever that meant. I raised my eyebrows and turned to Chris, who just shrugged. `Hell, I don't have to understand it -- that's your job.' I burst into laughter. Miss Williams glared at me, as though I had done something completely out of order. I grinned back and pulled Chris out of the room. `That woman gives me the creeps.' I whispered in his ear. `Let's go and find our room.' I indicated the stairs and we climbed them to a first landing. Once there, I looked along the row of panelled doors -- I counted twenty doors, one on either side, leading down the corridor. Moving down the hallway we tried all the doors. They were all locked. At the end of the corridor, the hallway bent around the corner into another passageway that led to another set of stairs. I ran up them and threw open the only door at the top. It opened into the biggest bedroom I had ever seen in my life. At one end was a large double bed and at the other my computer and laptop were set on a large oak desk at the far wall -- under an eight paned window. Chris's lower jaw joined mine on the floor. A door at the far end of the room led into a small bathroom, complete with a two-man shower and a bath big enough for about four people to get in at once. I grinned at Chris and showed that we would be having some fun at this house. A second door led off from the main room. Chris tried the handle and walked into my favourite part of the house. It was a small music studio, set aside from the main bedroom. In one corner stood my small Wurlitzer Organ and my two keyboards were connected to a set of recording microphones in the other corner. A bass guitar stood in the centre of the room, and was twinned by its neighbour -- a full-size cello. I was going to have a lot of fun in this place. We backed out of the studio and Chris took a running leap at the bed. As his full weight hit it he was catapulted upwards, towards the ceiling high above him. After a few bounces he eventually returned to Earth and allowed me to join him. The four-poster could easily accommodate both of us. Reaching out, I pulled the heavy curtains surrounding the bed shut. I began to softly stroke his mousy blond hair and whispered into his ear about the things I would do to him given the chance. Grinning at me I was pulled into the biggest kiss I could ever imagine. We were interrupted by a knock at the door and Miss Williams entered. `I'm glad to see that you have found your room, James.' She glared at me. I felt the eyes penetrate my skull and find my brain; it was as if she were reading my thoughts. I shrugged off the sensation. `Christopher, we have prepared a room for you in the East Wing of the house. I am sure you will be more comfortable there.' `Actually Chris will be staying here, with me.' I blurted out. She looked startled. `But, there is only one bed, and naturally you do not wish to have him sleep on the floor.' She knew the situation, but did not want to be the first to mention it. `We only need one bed.' I never took my eyes from hers. `Well, James, now that you are the Earl of Sandringham you have a reputation to uphold. The House of Nottingham would not like to see it tarnished. I feel it more appropriate to see to it that you have separate accommodation.' `They are quite happy as they are, thank you Elaine.' Henry had come up behind Miss Williams and smiled at us both. I heard Chris breathe a sigh of relief. `Must move with the times; surely a person such as yourself would know that.' He said sarcastically. The mutual dislike feeling was apparently common towards her. Knowing that she was beaten, Elaine swept out of the room and we heard her descend the stairs heavily. `Don't take any notice of her. Too set in her ways is that woman.' Henry had a nice voice. It had a slight country twang to it, but was still dry enough for it to be called southern. He was a relatively young man -- about his early thirties. The crop of brown hair on his head was thick and had decided a long time ago that no matter how hard you brushed it, it would never return to its original position. `You two have fun, and I'll see you at dinner tonight.' He left closing the door behind him. I leapt on Chris as soon as I heard him reach the bottom of the steps. My hands flew over his chest and lifted the t-shirt over his head. Grinning at me, he reciprocated the gesture and managed to strip me down to my boxers and socks in a matter of seconds. My erection had managed to find its way out of the front of my boxers and had raised its head, waiting for it to be consumed by an eager Chris. He grabbed it by the neck and slowly slid his hand up and down a few times. Chris flicked his tongue over the opening and retracted the foreskin to reveal the shiny purple head. He pounced and sucked it all the way down his throat. I could feel that it was touching the lining of his oesophagus and hoped that it wasn't restricting his breathing. It didn't seem to be and so I let him carry on with his ministrations. He pulled the shaft out of him and resumed licking and teasing the head, with his fiery tongue. The swelling of my member continued and it began to pulsate in his hand. I could feel his sweet lips curving the shape of my boner and then he suddenly swallowed it again. Sucking up and down the shaft, he took wild and uncontrolled breaths each time he buried his face in my abdomen. I laid back and floated up to heaven. But I was pulled back to Earth with an ear-piecing scream as I orgasmed violently. I knew that my parents would be able to hear something like that two floors down and stopped myself from doing anything else. Amidst the giggles, Chris managed to let my, now limp, member slip from his mouth -- having downed all the juices it had to offer to him. -------------------------------------------------------- From somewhere came a small `click' and my Father's voice boomed out at us. `Boys, food!' The sound had apparently come from nowhere. Chris and I, who were lying in bed wrapped in each other, quickly scurried about collecting our clothes from where they had be strewn in our vicious love-making session of twenty minutes ago. After a close encounter with a pair of inside-out trousers, we made it to the stage of rising from the bed. Chris gave out a yelp of surprise and I thought that I had trodden on his foot or something. My mistake was obvious as he pointed to a black speaker on one side of the door. The word `intercom' was clearly written down one side. So that is how Dad had managed to throw his voice so well. Eventually we managed to stagger downstairs to the front door. Now the question remained -- where the hell was the dining room? Looking about us, Chris pointed out a small corridor, which lead to a door at the far end. Travelling down it we soon reached the door and threw it open. A large room met our eyes. Heavy drapes hung from every corner -- depicting huge battle scenes of men on horseback; they were fighting in every imaginable form. This Pomp and Circumstance was beginning to irritate me. So far, the only room that didn't have drapes or tapestries was my own. My eyes rested on the table, which was so long that it looked as though it could fit thirty people. Down at the far end were my Mom and Dad, with four other places set beside them. I felt Chris take my arm and bellow at the top of his voice. `The Earl and Countess of Sandringham, presenting themselves to the Duke and Duchess of Nottingham!' He shouted, as though he were the announcer at some function or other in the olden days. I began to giggle and we walked steadily to the other end of the table to meet my parents. `Hang on.' I stopped him. `Which one of us is the Countess?' `Well I sure as hell ain't no woman.' He laughed and sat down at the table. My face broke into a huge grin and I sat beside him. Henry and Elaine soon filled the opposite places; they had both come in from offices located at corridor at the top of the first flight of stairs. A few minutes later, Mom, who had disappeared for a few minutes re-entered from a side door, obviously connecting to the kitchen, and laid before us a magnificent spread of roast chicken. I licked my lips at the thought and began to cut into the wonderful bird. I was so content I believed I could cry. But there was no time for that now -- I still hadn't seen the rest of the house. --------------------------------------- mail me - virus@dial.pipex.com