Date: Wed, 27 Nov 2013 22:11:24 -0800 (PST)
From: Harrison Westbourne <harrisonwestbourne@yahoo.com>
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
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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/