Date: Sun, 9 Feb 2014 04:11:23 -0800 (PST)
From: Harrison Westbourne <harrisonwestbourne@yahoo.com>
Subject: WESTBRIDGE SPIRIT: CHAPTER 13

I thank you for your continued interest in my stories.  This is the
thirteenth installment of WESTBRIDGE SPIRIT.  Please continue to look for
more chapters of this tale to come.  Thank you for your interest and
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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
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If you enjoy this story please visit my other stories:

INCEST / DARYL'S ENLIGHTENMENT

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ADULT YOUTH / THE RUNAWAY AND THE DRAG QUEEN

http://nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/the-runaway-and-the-drag-queen

Brief Recap of Chapter 12 of WESTBRIDGE SPIRIT

PHILLIP

The next morning, Collin got the two younger boys off to school.  Patrick
needed a few more days until the doctor released him for school.  I headed
to the restaurant to take my mind off the recent events.  Vicky was leaving
on a well-deserved vacation with her girlfriend so the bulk of the pastry
work fell to me.  I had two very capable assistants who were working their
tails off as part of an extra-curricular work-study program.  We actually
got a little farther ahead than even I anticipated by the time the diner
crowd filtered in.

Richard stopped in to pick up some dessert for the family before heading
home.  A brief make-out session in Oliver's office and he was on his way
sporting a hard-on that he swore I would suffer for causing.  He gave me a
million-watt smile and laughed as he noticed my dick begin to
harden. Cursing him under my breath, I returned to my work and finally went
home shortly after 10 pm.

A quick shower relaxed my muscles until I felt two strong arms encircle my
waist.  Warm breath caressed my ear and a thick stiffness pressed against
my butt.  Laughing, I simply pushed back and said "Hi honey.  I'm home."

WESTBRIDGE SPIRIT: CHAPTER THIRTEEN (13)

Richard just leaned into me an stuck his tongue in my ear.  "I see that,
silly.  Why do you think I'm in here?"

Turning around, I wrapped my arms behind his neck and we kissed.  The warm
water cascaded over our bodies as we stood together grinding against each
other.  His eyes were smiling as we parted, faces flush with passion.
Reaching down to cup my firm cheeks, Richard suggested we take this into
the bedroom for my comfort.  Playfully, we struggled to finish our bath
without getting too carried away.

Arm-in-arm, we strolled towards our bed and pulled back the covers.
Crawling in the warm sheets, Richard and I kissed and explored the contours
of the person we loved.  His right hand moved to my throbbing member and
gripped it lovingly.  Moaning, I searched his body for his erect nipples
and twisted them gently.  Sliding down, he traced the path of hair from my
navel to my bush.  Teasingly biting along the way, I twitched every time
his lips grazed a fresh patch of skin.

Hot breath slowly covered the base of my penis as his tongue played with my
testicles.  Taking one ball at a time, he gently pulled and sucked while
stroking my dripping shaft.  At the moment I thought it might be too much,
Richard swung around presenting his thick rod to me.  Grabbing it by the
base, I licked the head eliciting a primal moan.  He followed that by
taking me inch-by-inch until his chin was buried in my pubic hair.  Rather
than laying back, I followed suit and took him even more slowly.

I was so worked up from his brief visit to the restaurant that I knew it
wouldn't last very long.  With Richard's skill and torturous tongue, my
climax was rapidly approaching.  Intensifying my own efforts, his nuts
began drawing up and his cock twitched.  Removing my mouth, I urged him to
finish with me.  The room became filed with sound of sucking and moaning.
Within a second or two, both our bodies tensed and we filled each other
with hot semen.

Collapsing from the intense session, we turned to snuggle close to each
other.  Spending a few moments kissing, I pushed my back up to Richard and
whispered "I love you."  He kissed my neck and echoed my words as we both
drifted into a contented sleep.

Dreams invaded my sleep again.  Geoffrey was living in Boston while
Alexander and Johanna worked on setting up his "disappearance."  Going
through a daily ritual that would cause even a monk to scream out loud, he
got up, ate a small meal, painted a little, napped, and so on until the
evening came.  Finding few excuses to be around other people, he was rarely
out of his home.

Alexander had to drag Geoffrey to his house once a week just to keep him
from becoming a hermit.  Three months passed until the false identity had
been firmly established.  Using that name, Geoffrey conveniently sold his
worldly possessions to this other man.  Divesting his given identity of any
material wealth, a "suicide" was then staged and reported to provide deep
enough cover for his escape to England.  The dream ended with Geoffrey, now
using the alias Matthew Wilhelm, boarding a steamer bound for London.

I had a raging headache that even four heavy duty pills couldn't even begin
to dull.  As soon as I lifted my head to get up, the room started spinning
and I felt sick to my stomach.  Laying back down, my eyes noticed a
swirling dark mass in one of the upper corners.  I swear I heard it
laughing in a high pitched feminine manner.  The last thing I remember was
rushing to throw up in the toilet.  I woke up on the bathroom floor,
staring into Richard's worried face.

He held my hand until paramedics arrived. It turned out I had struck my
head on the vanity.  I ended up in the emergency room for several hours.
After a barrage of X-rays and other tests, I ended up receiving 15 stitches
in my head and a sprained wrist.  Once the doctor cleared me, Richard took
me home and put me to bed.  I was truly frustrated since this had to be
another attack by whatever went after Patrick.  Ace was going to be the
first person I called when I got up the next morning.

ELIZABETH

Something just isn't right.  Geoffrey can't be dead.  My spies tell me that
he shot himself after selling everything he owned.  The letter that was
found expresses how deeply depressed and alone he felt but I don't believe
it.  His will left the money Quinn gave him to someone named Alexander
Drefuss.  He turned around and invested it with someone name Matthew
Wilhelm.  This stranger also purchased all of Geoffrey's possessions.  It
just sounds a bit too convenient.

I have managed to find out a little about him but his past is a collection
of documents with few people to corroborate them.  The only concrete fact I
could discover is his marriage to a woman named Sarah Gleason.  My gut is
telling me this is all a ruse to prevent me from finishing off the man who
ruined my attempts to gain control of the entire Oswald fortune.  Sources
indicate that Mr. Wilhelm was unknown around Boston until very recently.
Who is this mysterious Matthew Wilhelm and what connection does he have to
Geoffrey?

PHILLIP

That brief flash of thought from Elizabeth bothered me.  It happened as I
was watching myself walk around the manor in another odd dream.  I felt
eyes everywhere but could see nothing was obvious.  My footsteps echoed
loudly and each little noise seemed amplified somehow.  I made my way to a
room in the far west wing that I had never visited.  It appeared to have
been designed as a nursery but also looked like it had never been occupied.

I knew there was already a children's room in the main house so it seemed
almost redundant.  The air was still except for the random noises an old
house sometimes makes.  Looking around the nursery, there were clothes of
the late 19th Century Era.  Around the room were scattered typical girl's
toys.  An elegant Victorian doll house, a delicately carved rocking horse,
and a small table with a china tea set were in various corners along with a
shelf full of china dolls.

The other major feminine item was a oak hope chest with a delicately
embroidered seat cushion.  This item contained what would have been a
typical young woman's trousseau.  An elaborately beaded wedding gown,
beautiful lace veil, jeweled shoes, and other matrimonial items were
carefully stored inside the cedar lined box.  A small gilded Bible with the
name Margaret Ulster on the inside cover lay wrapped in a blue silk
handkerchief.  That was the name of Elizabeth's mother but what would her
things be doing in the Oswald house?  None of this made any sense at all.

I woke up with an even bigger headache than before I passed out.  Collin
was in the kitchen and made me a light breakfast of oatmeal and tea.  After
calling Richard to tell him I was awake, he said he had some classes to
attend.  Making sure I would be careful, he ran off to school and I headed
back to shower.  Once finished, I donned some sweats and hit my bed to make
some phone calls.

Picking up the phone, I called Ace.  We chatted about the latest incidents
and what I learned in my dreams.  He recommended an investigator to look
into the names and dates.  Contacting him might be difficult since he had
retired a couple of years after a horrifying experience in an abandoned
hospital.  I inquired about the incident but Ace said he only knew that it
had resulted in this man retiring from psychic investigation and moving to
Wisconsin.  Undaunted, he gave me the gentleman's name and the last known
contact number to see if I could get his assistance.

Tentatively, I dialed the phone and a deep masculine voice answered.
Explaining simply and quickly who I was and why I was calling, silence came
from the other end for several moments.

"I don't do that anymore."  he said plainly and hung up the phone.

Phoning Richard at his school office, he suggested I try to locate where
this man lived and visit him personally.  Using a service that the
restaurant employed for background checks, I set them on the task of
finding out whatever they could about the man I knew as Conrad Bevelton.
They would be thorough and quick so I could do nothing be wait.  Pulling
out my latest knitting project, I worked on that until lunch.  For part of
my lazy afternoon, I helped keep Patrick working on his schoolwork.  We
didn`t want him to fall too far behind so they had provided the lesson
plans and we made sure he completed them.

The boys came home excited about an upcoming school carnival to raise money
for a class trip to Washington D.C.  Each grade would organize and run an
attraction and the profits would be matched by a local business so the
students to take the trip.  I decided to help with all three projects since
this was the first real family event that we had.

Patrick's project involved setting up a bakery table that would be run and
supplied by students.  I talked with Uncle Walter about organizing some
special private sessions for interested individuals to learn to bake the
required pastries.  Kyle's class was working on a booth allowing people to
purchase and decorate their own t-shirt or sweatshirt.  Richard had a
friend who agreed to provide the shirts and supplies for free.  Campbell's
grade had chosen to operate a typical ring toss carnival booth. The rental
company graciously offered the prizes and structure for free as well.

Shortly after those plans were finalized, I received a phone call from the
background company.  They had located Conrad just outside of Madison,
Wisconsin.  I noted the address and made arrangements to go there the very
next morning.  At dinner that evening, I informed Collin, Frank and the
rest of the family that I had a business trip to make and would be gone for
a day or two.  Richard helped me set up a motel and rental car before we
crawled in bed for a night of comfort and cuddling.

The next morning, I awoke to find Collin tending to the kids.  Patrick had
been cleared to go back to school and was super excited.  The younger boys
sat there eating breakfast as if it were their last meal.  After a quick
bite, I grabbed my bags, kissed the kids and Richard, and headed out to the
rental car.  It had been a couple of years since I had taken a driving trip
by myself so I was in no real hurry.  Traffic and weather were ideal and I
stopped for a light lunch just after pulling into my hotel.  Checking in
and changing clothes, I punched the given address into the GPS and headed
out to find Conrad Bevelton.

That trip turned out to be a little longer that it appeared but I soon
arrived at a large ranch-style house.  Pulling up the driveway, I was
greeted by a small collie and a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair.
Stepping out of my vehicle, I introduced myself and his face registered
resigned acceptance.  Reluctantly he invited me inside and offered me some
tea.  Sitting down in his living room, I once again explained why I had
come to see him in person.  Presenting a file containing all the
information I had gathered to that point, I begged him to help me and
expressed my concern for my family's safety.  When I described the attacks
that had occurred, his demeanor changed and he agreed to help saying that
his own son had been lost during an investigation.

He began by telling me how they had been looking into a poltergeist event
at a former mental hospital in Seattle when a fire broke out.  The flames
spread rapidly and cut his son off from the rest of the group and the
exits.  By the time it was over, he had suffocated just a few feet from an
open doorway.  Fire investigators ruled it an electrical mishap even though
the power had been disconnected from the building due to the building being
due for demolition.  Conrad had even hired a private investigator who could
find nothing further about the potential cause.  He vowed to never do an
investigation unless other children were in harm's way.

We talked about the dreams I had been having and went over my dream diary.
He said it wasn't uncommon for someone to be receiving help from the other
side in this manner and he would utilize his contacts to discover whatever
he could.  By this point, it was starting to get dark and he suggested we
go out to eat and talk more.  Driving in two cars, we found a quiet eatery
where we continued to discuss the case. Treating him to a meal, we shook
hands before going our separate ways.

Back at the motel, I called Richard and talked to everyone on speakerphone
before taking it private for just us two.  We were sweet and romantic but
not sexual and soon ended the call to go to sleep.  Before actually going
to bed, I set my alarm and checked some email about the school projects.
Crawling in bed, I drifted off to an uneasy sleep once again plagued by
dreams.

This time, I could see Geoffrey and his new "wife" walking around a ship as
they sailed to London.  He was using his alias and still seemed concerned
about being recognized by someone.  The voyage was relatively calm and
arrived without any significant problems.  Geoffrey was met by a valet who
escorted the couple to a large apartment where they were given the keys.  A
lawyer met them in the main room and had some papers to be signed before
wishing them luck and leaving.  Geoffrey headed into one of the bedrooms
and fell on the bed in tears pulling out a picture of Quinn.

My alarm went off far sooner than I had hoped it would.  Getting dressed, I
ran to my car in a light rain and found a local restaurant for a solid
breakfast.  As I was eating, my phone rang and Conrad was asking to meet me
as soon as I could.  Paying my check, I headed for his house and made it in
record time.  Running the short walkway from the car to his door, he
greeted me before I even hit the bell.  Handing me a towel, I dried off and
removed my wet shoes.

In the kitchen, we had some tea and cookies that he had made the previous
evening.  I commented on his being a man of many talents.  Conrad told me
it helped him think when he baked so he used it as a relaxation tool.  With
that said, he indicated that the name Matthew Wilhelm came up in a search
of some old genealogy records he accessed online.  It appears that there
was a birth date and wedding recorded but not much else.  No information
about the parents of any known siblings could be uncovered.  He did state
that another friend was going to do a more extensive search and get back to
him.

Something seemed off since he had been so adamant about meeting with me
immediately.  I pressed the issue when it became evident that he was
reluctant to tell me everything.  Finally, he sighed and pushed a piece of
printed paper at me.  On it were mine and Richard's names along with birth
and death notices from the early part of the twentieth century.  What was
scary about it was that the dates were exactly the same as ours were except
the years.  Both of us had apparently had doubles who lived almost a
century earlier than we did.

All I could do was stare and wonder what this meant for us and what we were
experiencing.  Conrad said he would double check those dates but was almost
certain they were true.  Neither of us had a clue what this could
represent.  After going over what little he had found in the few hours
since we met, I left to return to my motel.  As I entered my room, my phone
rang and it was Collin.  He was frantic about another attack but this one
happened to young Kyle.

Collin told me Kyle was playing tennis on his Wii system when a black cloud
of smoke poured from the television and surrounded him.  He got scared and
tried to run for help but was thrown to the floor and held down.  It
required Collin and Patrick to pull him up and reveal that he had burns on
his hands and arms.  The odd part was that the controller had no external
evidence of overloading or flame but Kyle suffered severe burns.  I called
Conrad to fill him in on the attack before heading back to Chicago.

I tried to remain calm as I drove but my anger and fear was rising.  How
dare whatever it was to attack my innocent children.  My family should have
been safe in our home, not be afraid or in danger.  Luckily, the rain
stopped just as I approached the state border but something didn't feel
quite right.  Pulling over near Rockford, I filled the car with gas, picked
up some chocolate to munch and called to let Richard know were I was.
Getting back on the road, the car seemed sluggish and hard to manage.

The closer to the city I got, it became more difficult to control the
vehicle.  I was sliding on dry pavement and swerving without touching the
wheel.  Turning off the expressway to wards my home, the brakes failed
causing a severe slide and spin.  The last thing I remember was the sound
of the windshield breaking and the airbag exploding.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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If you enjoy this story please visit my other stories:

INCEST / DARYL'S ENLIGHTENMENT

http://nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/daryls-enlightenment/

ADULT YOUTH / THE RUNAWAY AND THE DRAG QUEEN

http://nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/the-runaway-and-the-drag-queen