Date: Sat, 30 Nov 2013 11:02:13 -0800 (PST) From: Harrison Westbourne Subject: WESTBRIDGE SPIRIT: CHAPTER 3 I thank you for your continued interest in my stories. This is the third 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 2 of WESTBRIDGE SPIRIT 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. WESTBRIDGE SPIRIT: CHAPTER THREE (3) As safe as I felt wrapped in Richard's loving arms, my mind was plagued by unearthly images and "memories." It was as if I was watching a past life or a B-movie about reincarnation. Everything felt so real that I was convinced I had actually experienced it. I rarely remember my dreams or nightmares but this one was so strong that I could recall the most minute details. The vision began in the same room where I was now sleeping. Looking around at the décor, it seemed to be closer to the date that the house was built than now. A huge, carved mahogany bed with an emerald green quilt and white pillows dominated the room. On one wall stood a matching mahogany armoire with the same delicate woodland carving motif. The other wall had a long, low mahogany dresser with a mirror attached at the center point. On the floor was a delicately woven Oriental rug in shades of white and gray with black accents. Thick, brocade curtains of gold covered both windows and puddled on the floor. A small, mahogany chest with embroidered cushion stood at the foot of the bed. The room was filled with the smells of a man's cologne and pipe tobacco. It seemed as though I had spent many hours, if not years, inside this very room. I walked to the closet and opened it to find a neatly arranged assortment of suits, slacks, jackets, and other men's clothing of a much earlier era. Shoes were located on shelves below each suit and were apparently meant to be matched with each other. Against one side were a series of drawers that held ties, suspenders and such. Two drawers, which had locks but were open, held a wide variety of jewelry, including watches, rings, cuff links and other such baubles. As I turned to exit the closet, I ran smack into a tall, auburn-haired man. He easily stood 6 feet tall and his body was trim, but obviously muscular. His eyes were the most piercing shade of blue I had ever seen and his smile seemed to ignite the sun. The image seemed so familiar and I found myself magnetically drawn to him as though we meant something to one another. Just as he leaned down to kiss me, my alarm clock rang and I was yanked back to reality. Richard and I cleaned up and dressed in sport coats and slacks complete with ties for dinner. We had to really fight to prevent ourselves from getting too amorous or we would have never made it. Once we were finally dressed, the look of the two of us was so shockingly striking that we both were aroused. Settling for a couple of quick kisses and gropes, Richard opened the door and gestured for me to exit. Playfully, he swatted my ass as he fell in step next to me in the hall. As we headed downstairs, a young woman dressed as a maid approached us and told us she had just been sent to bring us in for cocktails. Entering the library, we were greeted by Aunt Marie, my lawyer, and two other couples. One pair were the best friends of Aunt Marie's late daughter, Laura. Melissa and George Hawthorne had met Laura at college and were with her when she injured and died in a scuba diving mishap. The other couple were two very handsome, young men. Louis Juneau was a tall, African-American and his partner, Edward Yeats, was a slightly shorter, white man. Both were good looking and seemed genuinely in love with each other. They were also friends of Laura's, but from her high school years. After a couple of minutes of drinks and polite chatter, Maybrook entered and announced that dinner was ready to be served. Aunt Marie led the way escorted by my attorney with the rest of us trailing behind. Dinner was a five-course event, ending with a delicious chocolate raspberry soufflé with vanilla ice cream. Following the meal, the group retired to the library for a piano performance and after-dinner refreshments. The weather had deteriorated during the course of the meal until it became evident no one was leaving. Maybrook informed us that there was minor flooding in the immediate area and that he had prepared rooms for everyone. Just after he stopped speaking, a loud clap of thunder and a flash of lightening filled the room. With that over, the lights went out leaving the only the fireplace to provide illumination. Within seconds, Maybrook had candles lit and ready. The maid, whose name was Theresa, and Maybrook used candles to escort all of us to our rooms and made sure each room had some lit for easier maneuvering. I was standing and staring out the window at the storm when Richard came up behind me and nuzzled my neck. Turning, I threw my arms around his necks and asked if he wanted to fool around. Smiling, he kissed me and led me to the bed. As the storm progressed, there was a very different tempest going on inside. We were so aroused by the entire evening, I practically ripped Richard's clothing from his body. Pushing him back, I removed the rest of my togs and began ravaging his ass. He gripped the bed and moaned in beastial pleasure. After several intense moments, he practically screamed for me to fuck him. Grabbing his ankle, I slowly pushed my engorged cock into his waiting hole. It was fiery hot and velvety soft as we both became extremely vocal. Once I was completely in, I moved my pelvis in circles driving Richard into fits of groans and dripping precum by the gallon. Just when I was certain he couldn't take much more, I started thrusting back and forth slowly at first and gradually getting more aggressive. Sweat was dripping off our bodies and our noises were rivaling those of the violence outside the windows. Soon, I pushed in to the hilt ad unloaded for what seemed like an eternity. Richard sensed my climax and shot his own load without using his or my hands. Allowing both of us to recover, I leaned over to kiss Richard, Gently pulling out, I ran into the bathroom and came back with towels to clean us both. Once finished, Richard used the bathroom and then snuggled close to me in bed. I was behind him pulling him as tight to me as I could. Nibbling on his ear, I whispered that I loved him. Turning his head, he kissed me and said he did too. Soon, I felt his breathing fall into a slumber pattern and drifted off into dreamland myself. Once again, I was in the earlier version of my bedroom. The auburn-haired man had confronted me as I exited the closet. His blue eyes held me in their gaze as his lips met mine in a passionate embrace. Every fiber of my body seemed to be on fire as the kiss lingered. Strong arms gripped my waist and pulled me even closer, if possible. Coming up for air, he stared into my eyes and stroked my cheek. This lasted for minutes until he spoke with a deep, slight English accent. "Here you are, my love." He cooed. I heard myself respond in a similar voice, "Yes, I was making an inventory for our trip. Just wanted to see what I might pack." Laughing, he smiled, "Geoffrey, you do worry too much. The other valet can pack what we'll need." He wrapped his arms around my shoulder as we walked to the chest at the foot of the bed. "But, Quinn, you know that your mother still isn't okay with this." I said as I glanced in the dresser mirror. The person I saw looking back at me was different from my own. I was the young dark-haired man with the green eyes from the portrait in my modern room. Staring into someone's else's eyes was uncomfortable and made me dizzy. "Darling, it doesn't matter to me." Quinn stated. "I'm of age and the inheritance is mine. She can't do anything or I can force her out of MY house. So relax." Snuggling next to Quinn, I sighed, "If you say so. I just want to be able to live our life together without interference." As Quinn leaned in to kiss Geoffrey again, Richard shook me awake. Lying on his side facing me, he smiled and said that Maybrook had been by to tell us breakfast was in one hour. Wiggling his eyebrows, I grabbed him and we kissed. Fifteen minutes and two cum shots later, we were showered and heading to the dining room. Giggling as we walked, we were met by Edward and Louis exiting their room, hand-in-hand. The four of us greeted one another and continued our stroll through the halls. Edward asked nonchalantly, "How long have you two been dating?" I blushed and smiled, "A few weeks. My former boyfriend was killed 8 months ago." "Oh, I'm so sorry." replied Louis. "Didn't mean to pry." "It's okay. Richard knows and I really do love him." I stated plainly, kissing him gently. Richard piped up, "How about you guys?" "We met in high school." Louis answered. "I fell hard from the start. Laura was our `fag hag' when we hung out." "Aunt Marie likes to keep reminders of her family around now..." Edward's voice trailed off. "You mean now that she's dying." I said. We continued talking as we entered the dining room. Aunt Marie was already in her place at the head of the table. It was a breakfast buffet so we served ourselves. She begged me to sit on her immediate right hand side as we ate with Richard on her left. During the meal, conversation flowed with ease. At one lull in the chatter, I decided to dig into some of my dream. "Aunt Marie, who is the young, dark-haired man in the portrait on my wall?" I asked, nonchalantly. "The one with green eyes?" she said and I nodded. "That was a young valet named Geoffrey Yeats. He was assigned to the third son of the builder of this estate, Quinn Oswald Sr." "What do we know about him besides that info?" I asked. "I had a really odd dream about him and a auburn-haired man." She looked surprised and replied, "That would be Quinn Jr. He stayed in that same room." Aunt Marie proceeded to tell us their story. Geoffrey was only 13 when he was moved from the stables to become a valet. Quinn Jr. was 21 and had an "alternative" lifestyle. The family knew and didn't interfere as long as he was discreet. Shortly after he met young Geoffrey, Quinn began to pursue the young man sexually. He found any excuse to be naked around him or touch him. In time, Quinn came to love the young man and wooed him with kindness. They became lovers and Geoffrey moved into Quinn's room about a year later. After the father passed, his oldest brother, Maxwell, inherited the entire estate so Quinn wouldn't have been risking any claim. When his two older brothers died in World War I, the estate became his alone and he was required to marry. Although he didn't really want a wife, he conceded the need for heirs. With a wild stroke of luck , he found a young lady named Olivia Mason, who was a lesbian in love with her ladies' maid, Theresa. This unlikely marriage of convenience produced two sons and one daughter. It lasted for fifteen years until Quinn Jr. died in a horseback riding fall. Prior to the time of his death, Quinn Jr. had written an iron-clad will. He made provisions in his will for his mother, his wife and children, and even young Geoffrey. The family was flabbergasted to discover that Geoffrey was to receive 25% of the value. He received his share and reportedly moved to Boston. No one heard anything more about him after that. "You know," Aunt Marie said, "Quinn Jr. has a portrait in the room that Louis and Edward are staying. He had the bluest eyes that were as clear as tropical seas." "I'd like to see that later, if I may." I asked Edward and Louis, who nodded their approval. Aunt Marie continued, "There a several books of family history in the library you might want to examine. Keep in mind the one my father had printed is mostly a falsehood he created to cover up his humble beginnings." We finished breakfast chatting about social events and the storm last evening. Aunt Marie told us that Maybrook contacted the state police. Who said the roads were clear and the flooding was minimal. Following the meal, Edward and Louis showed us their room and I was soon staring at the auburn-haired man in my dreams. Aunt Marie was correct about his eyes, including how hypnotic they were. As they gathered their remaining belongings, we chatted and walked out to their car. Goodbyes and phone numbers were exchanged and then they were gone. Returning to the library, Aunt Marie had Maybrook locate the history books for us. Due to her illness, she excused herself to rest and said she would see us a lunch. Richard sat in one chair and I in the other as we each started to read through the complex family lore. My book was the "fictional" story of Nathaniel Westbridge's lineage. It read like a poorly written romance novel. Supposedly, his family could be genetically traced back to James I of England. The line continued throughout many of the European royal families, with a prince here and a countess there. It even claimed a connection to Czar Nicholas II of Russia. Ironically, the only royal house that was not mentioned was Sweden, which I knew from my own scant research was the one from which he descended. I guess he thought he was punishing them by omitting them from his "life story." The book was, as Marie put it, pure propaganda. Richard had a volume about Quinn Oswald Sr. and his family. They were from a minor line of the Dutch royal house. Since they were so far removed from becoming King or Queen, many emigrated to New Amsterdam, which became New York. With the money they already had, most became merchants and traders. Oswald's father built his massive fortune from a fleet of whaling and trading ships. They sided with the American colonists during the Revolution and prospered greatly after Independence. The story traced the family's downfall as well. The two World Wars and the Great Depression had pretty much destroyed most of the fortune. By the time Nathaniel came into the picture, the Oswald family's vast wealth was primarily limited to a few stocks and the estate and its grounds. Carter Oswald was the last of the clan and the man who left Nathaniel everything. He never married or fathered any children due to his homosexual lifestyle. After a couple of hours reading, Richard and I took a tour of the gardens and greenhouse. The outside had been heavily battered by the storm but one could still see the magnificent beauty of the scheme. In the greenhouse, the temperature was steaming ad we strolled through each room. Every section had a different variety and climate for the plants inside, ranging from heavily tropical to desert cacti. In the Rain Forest Room, a small pond with fish and lily pads was surrounded by palms and other tropical foliage. There was a large bench set on a peninsula that jutted out into the pond itself. Richard grabbed my hand and led me there where we sat in the middle of the gorgeous greenery and made out like teenagers. At one point, he unzipped my slacks and started playing with my hard cock. Aroused as I was, I returned the favor and we were soon stripping off our clothing, The area around the bench was covered in a soft grass that felt warm to the skin. We moved ourselves there and began sucking each other as if we hadn't seen the other for years. Sweat and sounds of sex filled the large room as we both became more and more excited. I was itching to be fucked and cooed for Richard to take me. He slowly moved between my legs. Using only his spit, he entered me gently and gave me a fucking I hadn't experienced in a long, long time. Soon his breathing changed and I knew we were both close, Sensing that, I grasped my dick and began to stroke while encouraging him to fill me up. He thrust harder and within seconds he climaxed deep inside my bowels. Feeling his cock expand within me, I shot my load until he collapsed on top of me. We lay there for several minutes trying to recover our senses when we heard a small noise. Looking over, we saw Maybrook standing as properly as ever on the pathway. "Sorry gentlemen." he stammered, obviously flustered. "Luncheon will be served in 45 minutes." With that said, he placed some towels on the bench, turned, and left the room. We looked at each other and burst our laughing at the absurd picture we must have presented. It most likely resembled two dog fucking on someone's front lawn. Using the towels and some water from the pond , we cleaned each other and dressed. Noticing our clothes were filthy, Richard suggested we run upstairs and change before lunch. Lunch was a more ordered affair as Maybrook served the courses himself. Each time he approached either Richard or myself, he smiled and winked letting us know he supported us entirely. I became really fond of Maybrook and respected his discretion. Aunt Marie didn't eat very much, claiming a lack of appetite. We suspected her stomach was bothered by the cancer. She continued to talk about everything she could and tell stories about her family and the Oswalds. The remainder of the visit was uneventful as the lawyers handled the details and Marie and I just signed whatever was required. Since Richard had school coming back and I had my work, we left with a promise to return as soon as possible. However, that was the last time we would see my Aunt Marie alive. She passed away a few weeks later and suddenly, Westbridge Manor was mine. TO BE CONTINUED... If you enjoy this story please visit my other story at http://west.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/daryls-enlightenment/