Date: Wed, 22 Oct 2008 20:21:01 -0700 (PDT)
From: John Black <blackhunk33@yahoo.com>
Subject: His Grace, the Duke of Lincoln, Chapter 5

       			His Grace, the Duke of Lincoln


       But, it had to end.  I rolled off him when my deflated dick
finally slipped out of his ass.  He snuggled up next to me and kissed
me.  I could taste my ass on his lips, but I didn't care.  We slept for
another 30 minutes before we officially started a new day.

					Chapter 5

	I called the security company to discuss what was available to
provide more robust protection for the Duke's estate in Berkshire.  Of
course, they wouldn't discuss such matters with a stranger.  Alex took
the phone, punched in his code, spoke a password and handed the
instrument back to me.  "They'll talk to you now," he tossed over his
shoulder as he opened his bedroom door to leave.  "Let me know what you
think."

	I was impressed.  There were hidden security measures all over the
estate, including the front gate that I didn't know existed.  I smiled
at my effrontery.  Of course, security was tight.  Alex was a Duke and
closely related to the Queen.  Randomly, persons wishing access to the
estate would be asked to punch in a personal code and answer a personal
question.  The questions, I was assured, were never the same.
Additionally, retinal scans, hand print authentication, and more
questions were added after dark.  Motion detectors, cameras, and
pressure plates were scattered about the manor and grounds.  This must
have cost the Duke a small fortune, but then he had a huge fortune with
which to pay for it.

	However, I was still concerned about the ancient Rolls Royce
having inadequate armoring.  I resolved to mention it to Alex later.

	I wandered through the house, talking to various retainers about
their jobs and how long they'd been with the Duke.  The average
employment was nearly 20 years, with the shortest being young Mr. Dunbar
at three years.  Several times individual staff told me that they were
pleased that I was taking over security in these "troubled times" as
they'd say.  Also, I was discretely propositioned by more than a few of
them, male and female.  I only smiled and ignored that part of the
conversation.  There was no need to let it all hang out, yet.  Besides,
I still hadn't agreed to take the position.

	Staying with the Marines wasn't what I wanted to do at this point
in my life.  Playing house with Captain Montrose was fun, but there was
no future there.  His future was the Marines.  A lasting relationship
would be impossible.  No, my future lay elsewhere, perhaps in the arms
of a blueblood aristocrat like Sir Alex Howard?  The thought made me
smile.  I could surely suffer a worse fate than that, I mused.

	That evening, Sir Alex had a dinner party for several of his
friends and political cronies.  I stayed in the background with the
other security people who had arrived with their luminaries, including
the Prime Minister and a few cabinet ministers.  Alex's mother had made
her excuses early and had retired.  The rest of the elite guests joined
the Duke in the library for cigars and brandy.  Only a few lit up, but
everyone enjoyed the 200 year old cognacs.

	The party broke up about midnight.  I checked to be sure no one
had tarried, and then walked into our bedroom.  Alex was in his marbled
bathroom, showering off the stench of stale tobacco.  I joined him.
With my arms encircling him, I drew his back into my caress and pressed
hard.  My dick rose quickly, seeking entry through his back door.  He
didn't protest.

	With lube conveniently located on a shelf within the shower, I
slowly fucked him with long strokes.  He roared with pleasure as we
climaxed nearly simultaneously five minutes later.  His load splattered
against the shower wall while mine jetted deeply into his welcoming ass
tunnel.

	"You can fuck me like that anytime we're alone," Alex signed,
leaning back into me.  His hands were on my ass, keeping me from pulling
out.  I didn't mind.  It felt good to be inside a man of his bottoming
talents.

	We slept well until morning.  As dawn broke, he slid his fat, pink
dick inside me and rode my ass until he shuddered to a wet climax in my
hungry hole.  He flipped me over afterwards and sucked me off.  Of
course, being the sex pig I am, I cleaned off his cummy dick while he
blew me.  His talents and the taste of ass and cum in my mouth rushed me
to another climax.  He greedily sucked down my load.

	Later in the morning, I asked Alex about the armor plating on the
Rolls.  He thought for a moment before replying.  "It was hardened by my
grandfather at the time of purchase.  I have to assume it wouldn't be
adequate by today's standards.  Good show, Mr. Jackson!  I'll ask
Hoskins to make an appointment for you with the car today."  I looked
concerned.  "Not to worry.  I'll be on the estate all day.  I won't be
needing the car or your capable security with me today," he allowed.

	I nodded and went to find young Mr. Dunbar and Fergus (the Duke's
retiring driver, for those of you who have forgotten).  I asked Fergus
if he had any schematics for the ancient Rolls to see where the armoring
actually was.  He checked through the files about the car, but came up
with nothing.  "I'm not sure, Sir, if we ever had that information," he
said.  "For the sake of security, the company may have thought it better
to keep such information a secret from everyone else, including the
owner."

	"So you had to trust them that they even did the work," I wondered
aloud.

	"Oh, no, Sir," Fergus countered.  "You could tell by the way the
old girl handled that she had on extra baggage.  Also, Sir, the windows
were much thicker, as they should have been to be bullet proof," he
concluded.

	"Perhaps," I allowed.  "Anyway, you do know who the coach builders
were, don't you?"

	"Yes, Sir.  Bailey and Cromwell took the car directly from the
Rolls Royce plant, did all the armoring before returning it to the
factory for final assembly and polishing.  She is a beauty," he sighed
looking over at the elderly car.

	"Maybe it's time the old girl was retired and someone else got
some joy out of her.  A collector, perhaps?  Eh, Fergus?" I suggested.

	"His Grace would have to decide that, Sir."

	I asked Alex's private secretary if I could have a couple minutes
of the Duke's time during the day.  He checked his appointment calendar,
shrugged, and announced me.  I walked into the study and asked Alex how
"married" he was to the old Rolls.

	"Other than it belonged to my father and grandfather, nothing
particularly," he replied.  "Were you thinking I should sell it and get
a newer one with better, more modern plating?"

	"You read my mind," I smiled.

	"Not too difficult to do, Mr. Jackson," he nodded at his
secretary, dismissing him.  "Can you read my thoughts, Derek?" he leered
when his secretary left the room.

	"Crystal clear," I laughed.  "You dirty, old man!"

	"Hopefully."

	"So, about the car?"

	"Yes, uh, I'll make some inquiries with a dealer in London, friend
of the family," he proposed.

	"You have better things to do with your time, Alex," I cautioned.
"Let me do the leg work and present you with the final figures and my
recommendation."

	He nodded.  "Very well.  But, let me put a call through to Percy
and let him know I'm in the market, including disposal of the old one."

	"I may be able to do better with a collector," I offered.  He
frowned.  "At least, let me explore it to see if it would make sense."

	Alex smiled and nodded.  "As you wish," he sighed and turned back
to papers he'd been shuffling when I'd walked in.  "The Lords are not
going to win this one," he muttered to himself, already completely lost
in the minutiae of the legislative bill before him.

	I quietly retired from the study and began calling collectors and
auction houses that Fergus and Hoskins suggested.  Quickly, it became
apparent that collectors would be drooling over the prospect of
purchasing the Duke's old Rolls (with armor plating) and they were
willing to pay a premium because it had been owned by the Dukes of
Lincoln.  I wasn't sure that the dealership in London would.  Sotheby's
was interested, but could only suggest a range for the possible sale
price.

       Collectors were already out-bidding each other for it, having
already reached 50,000 pounds sterling!  Word travels fast in that elite
circle.  I hadn't surveyed the U.S. market, yet, so it could be even
higher.  However, the bad news was that the new Rolls Royce Phantom
limousine would run over œ200,000 plus armor plating.  The Duke had the
money, but this wasn't petty cash.

	I spoke with two armorers that afternoon and determined that there
were many levels of security which could be added to the car.  I asked
that they send something to the estate today specifying what we'd get
for the money.  They were only too happy to messenger the information
today for delivery by evening.

	I left a note with Alex's private secretary, outlining my progress
for the day with a promise to have the final numbers for the Duke by
tomorrow.

	With that out of the way, I strolled about the estate, checking
for obvious security devices, but found only a few, discrete cameras.
All others were well hidden or camouflaged.  I wondered how they could
distinguish between a man and a deer or any other wild animal.  I
decided I'd need to have another conversation with the security company,
as well as a demonstration of what was in place.

	Messengers arrived shortly before dinner with the promised
materials about hardening the new Rolls.  I spent the rest of the
evening going over their proposals, making notes to compare them.  By 11
p.m., my mind was wandering, so I left the material in a safe place and
checked in with Sir Alex.  He was about ready to go to bed, too.

	As we walked into the bedroom wing of the mansion, the head butler
hurried up to us.  "A call, Sir, from the security company," he began
worriedly.  "Someone is on the estate without permission.  They are
sending forces out immediately, but they won't arrive for another 15
minutes."

       Alex raised an eyebrow.  "How credible is the threat?" he asked.

	"They seem to think very credible.  Weapons have been detected,
Sir."

	"Are they still on the phone?" I pressed.

	"Why, yes, Sir," he replied.

	"I'd like to speak with them."  The Duke nodded.  As the butler
led me to the phone, I asked, "Have you activated the console so we can
see what they see?"

	"Yes, Sir.  It's booting up now," he motioned toward a large,
flat-panel screen.  I looked carefully at it.  A red mark was moving
slowly from the north toward the mansion.  Infrared detectors had him
painted.  I reached for the phone and spoke with the night security
officer.

	"Switch your video feed to channel two, the F2 key," the officer
said.  I reached toward the keyboard and hit the F2 key.  The screen
dissolved to show the same figure, but in a tighter shot.  This view
clearly showed a man, crouching stealthily, with a large knapsack on his
back, and at least one high-powered rifle in his hands.  I thought I
could make out a scope on the rifle, but I couldn't be sure.

	"Tell Sir Alex to get away from any of the windows," I ordered the
butler.  "That scope could read his heat signature, even without
lighting in the room.  And tell the rest of the staff to do the same
thing, but get to Sir Alex first.  Better yet, get them all into the
basement until this is over.  You do know where everyone is, right?"
The butler nodded nervously.  "And have head of housekeeping arouse the
Duchess and get her to the basement right after Sir Alex," I added.
"Have someone else alert the rest of the staff."

	"Yes, Sir.  Right away, Sir," he croaked and dashed away.

	I turned back to the screen.  The infiltrator was still nearly a
mile away.  But, if he were a decent shot, that wouldn't be a problem.
I put on a mobile headset and continued talking to the security officer
as I rummaged through the "crash" closet and gathered up what I thought
I'd need to intercept our unwelcomed guest.  As I got continuous
updates, I pulled on my night-stalking clothes (with Kevlar inserts),
grabbed one automatic weapon and three, full clips, night-vision
headgear, and left the house.  People were scurrying everywhere, but all
headed to the basement with worried looks.  I got weak smiles from the
ones I passed, but they all said, "Good hunting, Sir."

	The security officer gave me another update that his team would be
there within another 10 minutes.  I told him to remind his team to be
quiet as they raced here.  "No sirens or other noise makers.  We don't
want to scare this guy off," I warned.  "And get someone in the States
to secure the boys!" I thought suddenly.

	"Already done, Sir," he assured me.

	I raced out the door, crouching low, and headed for the north
pastures.  The gate was locked, so I slipped through the fence wires
next to it.  Another update told me that my quarry was dead ahead about
1000 meters.  I slipped down the hedgerow toward him, being careful to
stay as close to the hedge as possible. I didn't want to be painted by
the interloper's night goggles, too.  Another hedgerow separated us.  I
decided to wait in ambush behind an ancient oak tree and wait for him to
come to me.  That would leave him about 300 meters from the house and
would take him nearly 10 minutes to cross the distance between us.

	True to his task, our "guest" continued at a sustained pace toward
me.  Sweat dripped down my back as more adrenalin coursed through my
body.  I mentally checked through what I was about to do several times,
trying to estimate the various outcomes.  The element of surprise worked
in my favor.  I'd disarm him first, and then subdue him, I decided.

	My muscles tensed as he drew nearer.  His noisy thrashing through
the hedgerow separating the two fields made me smile.  Obviously, he
didn't expect anyone to be here.  For reasons I could only guess at, he
had his night-vision goggles around his neck.  Pretty useless there!

	With lightning reflexes, I ripped the rifle from his hands.  That
startled him.  He shot a fist at my headgear, but I ducked.  In his
other hand, a knife flashed.  He stabbed forward, but I stepped quickly
aside and darted a clenched fist at his knife-wielding arm.  I heard a
crack, but I didn't feel anything other than the impact.  But, I did
hear a moan of pain from him.  With his other hand, he tried to crush my
larynx with a punch to the neck.  Once more, I ducked and hit him in the
gut with a powerful right to the midsection.  He went down, groaning.

	Thinking fast, I stepped on his neck with my left foot to hold him
down and stepped on his injured arm with the other.  He cried out, but
swung his right fist at my knee.  I stepped away before he connected
solidly, but he did hit me hard enough to make me wince.  Again, he was
on his feet.  I circled him after throwing off my night-vision goggles.
My vision was not quite up to the perception that his was because of my
goggles.  I saw him reach for the ground.  I knew he was going after his
knife or his rifle.

	I stepped forward and hit him in the face with my boot, toppling
him over backwards.  Blood poured from his broken nose.  But, he wasn't
finished yet.  I sighed, frustrated.  This guy wasn't an easy take-down.

	He tried a roundhouse kick to my head, but I dodged it again.  He
telegraphed every move he'd made so far.  As his foot flew by my head, I
hit him in the ankle with my fist.  Another snap.

	This time, he yowled loudly.  He said something I couldn't make
out, but I knew it wasn't complimentary.  He was down again.  As he
struggled to get up, I kicked him under the chin, sailing him backwards
into a heap.  He didn't move.

	At that moment, I heard a distant helicopter racing through the
night sky toward me.  The pasture gate opened and men pounded through
the opening.  "All clear," I shouted.  "He's down."

	As they ran up to me, one shouted, "You okay, Sir?" while two
others checked on our "guest".  I assured them I was unharmed, which was
more than could be said for the guy on the ground.

	"Out cold," came the verdict.  "But it looks like he'll need to go
to Hospital."

	"What happened here, Sir?" the man in charge asked.  So, I told
him all the gory details.  "That confirms what our night officer said.
He had a knife and a rifle, I see."

	"And some nasty explosives, too," volunteered one of my rescuers.

	"The Home Office will be eager to chat this one up," the officer
in charge smiled.

	"Good job," the night supervisor added over my com link.
"Everyone."

	The helicopter continued to circle overhead until the ambulance
arrived.  Then, it shadowed the ambulance until they arrived at the
hospital.  Several police officers and a representative of the Home
Office had already been alerted to the presence of a terrorist on board.
But, the ambulance personnel had given him pain killers which also
served to keep the perpetrator unconscious.

	"How're the Duke and the household?" I asked.

	"I left two men at the house in case this was a feint," he
revealed.  "They report no activity."

	"Release everyone then," I ordered.  "I doubt that the Duke and
Dowager Duchess would like to spend any more time in the basement."

	"Yes, Sir.  Right away, Sir," he complied.  He called the order in
and sent the rest of his men off.  He accompanied me back to the
mansion.  The police took statements from His Grace, me, the butler, and
the captain in charge of the security detail who'd been dispatched to
assist me (with the night security head listening in), and then sent us
all off to bed.  "Just in case," the local constable said, "I've
assigned three men to stay with you for the rest of the night.  I
promise they won't get in the way."  He bowed to the Duke and shooed his
men outside.  The Duke's mother had retired again to bed.


	The excitement of the evening had everyone keyed up.  The cooks
had prepared toddies for everyone as well as biscuits (cookies) and tea
for those who wanted that instead.  They were all abuzz about how brave
I was and how fortunate they were to have me there in their time of
crisis.  Insisting that I give them a blow by blow description of what
had transpired, I regaled them for the next 30 minutes about my
exploits, leaving out the more lurid descriptions of breaking bones and
bloodied faces.

	The Duke finally called it an evening and sent everyone off to
bed.  "We're in good hands, now," he yawned.  "The local constable has
three men outside tonight.  Rest easy."

	He headed off to his bedroom while I stored my gear and turned off
the security console.  I'd clean everything tomorrow when I had a
clearer head and less adrenalin in my system.

	When I got to our bedroom, the Duke was at his writing desk,
furiously scribbling a note to someone.  "It's unconscionable that it
took them 15 minutes to get here.  We could have all been dead in our
beds!" he blustered.  "Of all the incompetent asses!" he fairly
bellowed.

	"But, it all turned out, well, Alex," I countered.  "By the time
the guy got close enough, they were here.  And I was here."

	He smiled up at me.  "Yes, you were, Derek," he said softly as he
kissed me tenderly on my lips.  "I can never thank you enough for what
you've done for me, my family, and the staff."

	"You pay me well, Alex," I smiled back at him.  "And we have the
most incredible sex.  That's more than enough for me to do my job."

	"But, you haven't officially accepted my offer, yet," he reminded
me.  "Or are you being subtle and I'm obtuse?"

	"Well, until now, I wasn't sure you needed me."

	"Oh, yes, Derek, I need you," he grinned cupping my manhood.

	"That, too," I laughed, caressing his hard ass.

	I pulled away from him for a moment and looked into his eyes.
"Your Grace.  I'd be honored to accept your offer of employment as Head
of Security, as I believe you called it."  I bowed deeply, smiling from
ear to ear.

	"You've made me a very happy man, Mr. Derek Jackson," he said
pulling me back to an upright position, "in many, many ways."

	"Would you care to demonstrate perhaps one of those?" I laughed.

	"Oh, there are so many," he mused.  "But, I think for your
heroism, you should fuck me senseless for the rest of the evening."

	"An offer I couldn't possibly refuse," I replied as I slowly
tugged off his clothes.

       When he was standing before me naked, he began to strip me, but
far more urgently.  On his knees, he sucked my bloated dickhead into his
lips, savoring the dribbles of precum that had accumulated.  He knelt on
the edge of the bed, his ass in the air.  I knelt beside the bed at
perfect elevation to eat his knightly ass out.

	The rest of the evening I spent eating or fucking his delightfully
hungry butt or sucking him off.  We spent at least two hours engaging in
disgusting, delicious sex.  When we finally slept, we were wrapped in
each other's arms, completely sated and smiling.

	To leave my Army career and take this position was the best
decision I've ever made.  And I've never regretted it.

       Neither has Sir Alex Howard, Duke of Lincoln.




       This story is fantasy.  Your life isn't.  Play safely.


       Constructive comments to blackhunk33@yahoo.com