Date: Mon, 29 Nov 1999 16:16:28 PST
From:  <jamiescott18@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Laird's Son - Part Four

Author's note: this is part four of a love story between two teenage
Scottish boys. Erotic fiction is brand new to me and I can only hope that
you enjoy it. The boys in this story engage in unprotected sex. Please do
not pull me up on that - this is fiction. Many thanks to everyone who has
emailed me with encouragement and special thanks to "Joe Camp" for his
advice on the genre and for his support.

Warning: this story contains scenes of graphic teenaged sex.

THE LAIRD'S SON
Part Four

     Jamie was asleep, sprawled and tousled, his hair still damp from their
swim. Michael loved watching over him while he slept. It wasn't just
because it allowed him to look at him as much as he wanted to, it was the
intimacy as well - the trust. Jamie was his lord again and he was his close
and faithful squire.
     It had turned into one of those hot, sultry afternoons, and he sat on
guard and listened to the drowsy droning of insects. A buzzard mewled
overhead and he squinted up and watched it, black against the deep blue of
the sky, its pinions spread as it played on the thermals.
    They were in the shade of the trees, but Jamie's naked young body was
dappled with stray shafts of sunlight. Michael wished he were an artist and
could catch this moment in time forever. He thought about how it felt to
touch Jamie, how soft his skin was, how surprised he'd been when he had
touched him as a lover for the first time. He had expected the yielding
pliancy of the girls he'd danced with, and was startled by how hard he
felt, by the unaccustomed muscular responsiveness.
     The thoughts excited him and he opened his legs to make room for his
growing erection. Reaching down to touch himself, he remembered Jamie
looking at his cock and felt a spasm of pleasure. He was bigger than last
summer, not much longer perhaps, but thicker. But it wasn't so much the
comment Jamie had made that aroused him; it was what lay behind the look -
Jamie wanted him.
     He played with himself slowly and found himself imagining what it
would be like to touch Jamie with his cock, to watch it stroking against
his beautiful face, his lips, pressing against his hard nipples.
     "You can do that when you're on your own."
     Michael started at Jamie's voice and drew his hand away guiltily. "I
thought you were asleep."
     Jamie smiled lazily. "I was asleep, but I like watching you when you
don't know I'm doing it. "Are you coming over here, or am I coming to get
you?"
     He shifted from his belly onto his side and Michael's prick twitched
at the sight of his erection. "You really are huge," he said, standing
up. "What size is it?"
     "For fuck's sake, Michael. Don't get into that stuff. What does it
matter what size somebody is. I hate size queens."
    Michael stood still and looked at the ground. "I'm sorry."
    Jamie sighed. "Me too. Come on, baby, let's make up."
    Michael lay down on his side facing him and instinctively reached out a
hand to touch his face but he withdrew it again suddenly, unsure if a
gesture of tenderness was allowed. Jamie sighed again and put his hand back
where it had been.
     "I've told you before; I don't bite."
     "You did more than just bite that morning at the castle."
     "Shit!" Jamie rolled onto his back and massaged his eyes. "Will you
just leave it?"
     "I don't know where I am with you," Michael told him, and was stunned
that he'd said it out loud.
     Jamie gave him the same appraising look as he had when he had lost his
temper in the stable. "Look, Michael, I get..." He stopped and his eyes
became suddenly clouded. "I'll tell you where we are. We're lying naked in
a nice private spot and we both have hard- ons." He turned back to face him
and, placing a hand behind his neck, drew him closer and kissed him deeply.
     Usually Michael was completely passive, but this time he found himself
sparring with his tongue to French kiss back. They kissed for a long time,
exploring each other's mouths with their tongues, while their hands stroked
and re-learned each other.
     Jamie lay back, his eyes drugged with desire, and Michael kneeled up
to drink him in.
     "Anything you want, big man," Jamie told him huskily. "I'm all yours."
     Michael hesitated and licked his lips, his eyes running over Jamie's
fit, slender body and stopping at his excited cock for a moment, before
looking at his face.
     "Whatever you want," Jamie said again.
     Michael laid his hand on his thigh and Jamie brought his knees up and
opened his legs to let him in. Michael was nervous; he wanted to please
Jamie but he didn't really know how he was supposed to go about it. Jamie
had always been the active partner, and Michael's inexpert fumblings with
the boy from school hardly constituted foreplay. He stroked Jamie's tender
inner thighs with his fingertips, and Jamie smiled and closed his eyes.
     Michael caressed Jamie's balls gently, feeling their weight, feeling
the shape of them under the loose skin. He positioned himself and
tentatively began to cover the same ground with his tongue. Jamie sighed
and began to stroke his hair.
      Michael buried his nose in Jamie's soft pubic hair for a moment,
inhaling deeply. And then he tongued upwards, licking up and down Jamie's
hard, hot shaft before engulfing the swollen, purple glans in his mouth and
beginning to suck gently. Jamie shivered and Michael began to suck harder,
his head bobbing, and his mouth full of cock and precum.  He moved his hand
and began to wank Jamie in time with his sucking, and Jamie thrust
involuntarily for a moment before stopping him.
     "Not yet, baby," Jamie whispered. "The root of my cock, where it joins
my body - lick me there."
     Michael did as he was asked, his hand slowing but still working. He
was intoxicated by Jamie's scent, by the sweat salt taste under his balls,
by the deeper, stronger musk that beckoned him. He slid his tongue
downwards and tasted the rosebud of Jamie's tight, puckered sphincter for
the first time. Jamie groaned and raised his slender hips.
     "Aw, fuck. Yes..."
     Michael's tongue circled and began to probe. He hadn't expected to
like doing this, hadn't expected to like the taste, but it was turning him
on to an incredible degree and his hard, young prick was thrilling and
oozing precum.
     "Jamie," he said, lifting his head, "turn over. It'll be easier."
     Jamie gave him a filthy grin. "You dirty bastard."
     Their eyes met and Michael grinned back at him. It was the first time
he'd felt like an equal.
     "There's K-Y in the bag," Jamie told him as he started to turn
over. "You'd better get that too."
     Michael swallowed and squeezed his prick as he felt it begin to
throb. It wasn't time to get that excited. It was difficult, though, and
looking back at Jamie and seeing him ready for him, young and wanton, his
hand stroking his beautiful cock, didn't make it any easier.
     Michael began again, lapping Jamie's hot crevice before moving back to
his prim, puckered hole. Jamie shuddered and Michael began to penetrate his
anus, probing and pushing in deeper as Jamie opened for him. He felt the
smooth walls of Jamie's rectum against his tongue, and began to thrust in
and out of him. Jamie moaned and pushed back against Michael's mouth, his
hand beginning to seriously pump his weapon.
     Michael was sweating with excitement, his rigid prick dripping and his
balls tight. He drew back. "Jamie, can I..."
     "Aw, fuck, Michael! Hurry up!"
     It was agony to stop and lubricate his prick with the jelly but he was
conscious that he'd been told to. He slid his aching tool up and down
Jamie's slick crack and gasped.  The feeling was so intense that it was
almost orgasmic.
     "Hurry up!" Jamie hissed.
     Michael pressed against Jamie's anus and the sight of his cock slowly
nudging it's way into that forbidden hole almost did for him. He closed his
eyes and gripped Jamie's hips. But Jamie pushed back roughly, impaling
himself on Michael's hard, young tool until Michael felt his whole cock
gripped inside Jamie's tight hole.
     And then Jamie was fucking himself on Michael's prick, sliding it in
and out, gripping and releasing.
    "Come on, little virgin," Jamie groaned. "Fuck me!"
     Michael thrust forward and Jamie pushed back to meet him. And then
nature took over and Michael was fucking him for all he was worth, the
feelings of intense pleasure flooding through him were indescribable as he
fought for release. And Jamie was coming, crying out as he spurted and
jerked, his anal sphincter pulsing on Michael's blazing cock. Michael held
onto him, thrusting rapidly and shouting his name as he pumped hot sperm
deep into his bowels.
     They collapsed together, both gasping as Michael withdrew his
softening tool. Jamie shifted to lie on his back, one knee up. His lithe,
young body was glistening with sweat and splattered with pools and strands
of milky semen. Michael lowered his head and began to lick him clean
without thinking, tasting, for the first time, the egg white and salt that
was Jamie.
      "Not my cock," Jamie warned. "It's too sensitive."
      Michael raised his head and looked at him, a trickle of sperm
escaping from the corner of his mouth.
     "Fuck, you're beautiful," Jamie told him and pulled him up for a kiss.
     Michael lay against him nestling his head into his shoulder as Jamie
stroked him. He wanted to be at peace, to just lie and enjoy the closeness
and not question anything, but he was already worrying that he had lied
about having a boyfriend when it had been obvious to Jamie that he'd been a
virgin. As usual, he was at a loss to know what Jamie was thinking and that
didn't help.
     "The boy at school, Duncan," he said. "It's just... We've just... You
know, mutual masturbation. We..." He was about to admit that they weren't
really boyfriends as such, but he felt Jamie's whole body tense and he shut
up.
     "That's nice," Jamie told him coldly. "Now shift. I want to get
washed."

     "Am I going to see you?" Michael asked. He was rigid with
anxiety. Jamie had ignored him since he'd mentioned Duncan and now Jamie
was going back to Rowan Cottage while he was headed back to the castle. He
didn't know if Jamie was jealous or just angry because he'd mentioned
another boy just after they'd made love. He couldn't imagine that it was
jealousy - Jamie had to know how he felt about him. Besides, Jamie wanted
him to have a boyfriend.
     "Whatever," Jamie replied irritably, and walked away leaving him
standing.

     By the time he was back at the castle, Michael felt good about the
day. He'd made an arse of the Duncan thing, but Jamie still wanted to see
him. He went round to the back of the castle, hoping to meet his mother.
     She was watering plants in her private garden but stopped when she saw
him. "I don't need to ask if you've had a good time," she told him. He
grinned and she shook her head.  "It's the bite he's left on your neck that
I was commenting on, not any inner glow."
     "Ah." He raised his hand to touch his neck, remembering the attention
Jamie had paid to it when they'd made love the first time. "Are you angry
with me?"
     She sighed. "Your father doesn't know your gay, Michael, and now is
not a good time to tell him." She paused. "The love-bite's fine - he won't
ask. But please be discreet."
     He looked at her closely. She looked drawn and tired.
     "It's going to be a big problem, isn't it?" he asked. It had just hit
him for the first time how much of a problem it was going to be. Their
family history went back for hundreds of years and the continuance of the
family name and title now rested squarely on his shoulders.
     His mother looked at his face and touched his cheek. "Don't worry
about it," she told him. "It's not time to worry." She held him at arm's
length. "Besides, you have more than enough on your plate with Jamie."
     "I don't know where I am with him," he admitted. "He was friendlier
than I expected.  And the..." He coughed to hide his embarrassment. He
hadn't meant to mention sex to his mother. He wasn't even sure if she
suspected that they were doing more than kissing each other. You're being
naive, he thought, and started again. "The, you know... That's great. But I
can't work him out."
     "Perhaps he can't work you out either," she suggested. "Have you tried
talking to him?"
     Michael sighed. "He isn't exactly easy to talk to. His mother was
lovely," he added.
     His mother smiled. "Kathy is lovely."
     "Does she know I'm gay?"
     She nodded. "Yes, she does, and she doesn't have a problem with it."
     "What about me and Jamie?"
     "You're both seventeen, Michael. It's hardly an adult relationship."
     Michael was appalled. He had thought she understood. Now he realised
that she thought it was just an adolescent crush. He was inclined to be
angry when he remembered how she had used his feelings for Jamie to call a
truce with his father. She saw the expression on his face and spread her
hands.
     "I'm not saying that what you feel for Jamie isn't real, Michael. But
you are very young."
     Michael nodded. "Remind me, because I think I must have forgotten -
how old were you when you fell in love with my father?"
     She opened her mouth and then closed it again for a second before
beginning to laugh.  "Touche. I was eighteen."
     "Thank you." He smiled and turned to go.

     He spent the next twenty-four hours worrying about the whole
hereditary thing. Being a son and heir he was going to be expected to
produce his own son and heir, and he couldn't imagine himself doing it. It
wasn't a question of not being able to have sex with a woman, he knew he
could probably find a surrogate mother for his child and that he would only
be required to supply the sperm, not have sex with her. But his father was
going to expect him to bring home a wife as well. He knew his mother was
right; it was far too early to worry about it. But he was worrying about
it. He needed a friend to talk to but the only person he trusted enough was
Jamie, and he knew that it was sex Jamie was interested in, not
friendship. He spent an hour being miserable about that, and then phoned
him.
     "What?" Jamie asked irritably, when he had been fetched to the phone.
     "Stop being a shit," Michael told him.
     Silence.
     "I'm sorry I spoke about the boy from school; it was stupid. But it
was because I'd been lying to you and I don't want to lie to you. He's not
my boyfriend. I don't have a boyfriend. I need someone to talk to,
Jamie. And you're all I've got." Bang goes that, he thought, I'll never see
him again. There were tears in his eyes but he knew Jamie couldn't hear
them in his voice. At least he would be left with some dignity.
     "I've got a couple of clients coming for riding lessons," Jamie said
evenly. "And I have to work on the stallion."
     "I could come over and wait."
     "No, I don't want you near my clients. They'll get nervous about their
riding if you're there."
     "I don't see why?" Michael protested. "I'm not going to..."
     "Behave yourself, Michael," Jamie cut in. "You're the son of an earl,
a lord in your own right. We're poor, dumb peasants. If you want to see me,
I'll come to you. Ten-ish, at your mother's greenhouse?"
     "That's great, thanks. Jamie, I'm sorry; I forget about the title."
     "Aye, well maybe that's because you're not an arse. I'll see you
later."

     Michael was elated; Jamie liked him. He was coming to see him and it
wasn't just because of sex. He felt his cock stir and hoped that sex was
going to play a part in the evening too. He reminded himself that he was
going to have to tread carefully. Jamie wasn't his and if he came on too
strongly then he was going to risk losing everything. He wondered at the
difference in both of them, they had both changed since the previous
summer, and not just physically. Michael still spent too much time in his
fantasy world, though. It allowed him to escape from the realities of too
many problems to let him part with it easily. Even now, when he was waiting
for Jamie in the real world, he was also waiting for his king to come home.
     Jamie was ardent. He didn't say hello to Michael; he kissed hello, his
tongue demanding and his hand already rubbing Michael's cock through his
chinos. He smelt of fresh air and Eternity after-shave and tasted of
toothpaste. Michael kissed him back and got an erection - fast.
     "Is it safe here?" Jamie asked breaking away.
     "Safer up in the guardroom."
     "There's no way I can climb all those stairs carrying this," he said,
and put Michael's hand on his hard-on. "Come on, there's a solid wall at
the back and those boxes will hide us." He pulled Michael after him, but
Michael wasn't complaining; he'd never turned on so fast in his life.
     Jamie kissed him again but it was perfunctory; he was far more
interested in getting Michael's trousers and briefs down.
     "Hold up your shirt," Jamie told him and knelt down.
     Michael stood in the half-light his shirt bunched up in his hand and
his trousers and briefs round his ankles while Jamie went down on
him. Jamie knew exactly what he was doing and it seemed like only seconds
before Michael was clamping his head with his free hand and thrusting his
raging prick down Jamie's willing throat. He was afraid someone might
overhear them and it was agony not to make any noise, but also part of the
pleasure. He bucked hard and lost control of a deep groan as he shot his
load.
     Jamie was so primed that he was gasping and pumping out his hot spunk
almost before Michael had started.
    "Thanks," Jamie told him as he pulled up his Levi's. "I needed
that. I've been thinking about it for hours."
     Michael grinned. "My pleasure."

     They made their way through the deserted family chapel and up onto the
battlements.  The sky was stunning, the horizon red and the clouds ringed
with pink and gold, and they stood looking at it for a moment before
looking at each other. Their kiss was gentle, tender, and when it ended,
Jamie looked into Michael's eyes and smiled.
     "You're my king," Michael whispered.
     Jamie frowned and Michael felt the distance between them grow into
miles.

     Michael stood alone on the battlements trying to gather his thoughts
before he followed Jamie into the guardroom. At least Jamie hadn't just
left, even if he hadn't said a word.
     Michael had already lit candles before their meeting and Jamie stood
in flickering shadow watching the last embers of the day. He turned and
Michael had never seen him look more beautiful. He really did look like a
young Celtic king. His whole bearing proclaimed it, and his deep, dark eyes
seemed to hold all the despair of a defeated nation.  He sat down on the
old throne without thinking about it and Michael's heart swelled.
     "You're my king," Michael said again, and held his head up despite the
tears.
     "Michael?" Jamie's low-pitched voice was gentle, and Michael brushed
away the tears and sat down on the bed.
     "It's a game I play, only it isn't really a game. It's..." He shook
his head, trying to find the words. And then he told him, all of it -
everything. He spoke of his desperately lonely childhood, of how he'd
yearned to be allowed to play with the village children, and of the dreams
he'd had that they had accepted him. He told him how he'd created his own
world, up here, in this room and on the battlements. And of everything that
involved.  He left nothing out.
     He explained how much he hated boarding school, and of how he'd
discovered the only way he could both fit in and keep himself apart from
the boys he despised was to excel, in sports and academically.
     He talked of the horror he'd felt when he began to realise he was gay,
of how he'd tried to hide it from himself, of how frightened he'd been of
being found out, and about the problems that were going to surface when his
father became aware of it.
     "But it's not just my father, is it? It's here, The Highlands. Being
gay is just not accepted. Look what happened to that artist out at
Inverbank; they damn nearly killed him."
     Jamie nodded but still didn't speak, and for a moment Michael
hesitated about going on, but he'd gone too far to stop now.
     "I love you," Michael said quietly. "I've always loved you. Even when
I was a little boy." And he told him about it. He even told him when he'd
first begun to masturbate while fantasising about him, and that he'd
watched him through the telescope and masturbated then as well.
     Jamie leaned his head back against the throne and closed his eyes. His
face was expressionless.
     "I'm sorry, Jamie," Michael said, but he was calm. He'd talked with
complete honesty and without any trace of self-pity and no matter what came
of it, the sheer relief of having opened his heart to another human being
was incredible.

End of Part Four