Date: Thu, 16 Dec 1999 16:00:46 PST
From:  <jamiescott18@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Laird's Son - Part Five

Author's Note: this is part five of a love affair between two Scottish
teenage boys. The boys in this story have unprotected sex. Please do not
pull me up on that - this is fiction.  This story is my first attempt at
writing erotic fiction and I can only hope that you enjoy it. Many thanks
to everyone for mailing me with encouragement, and special thanks to "Joe
Camp" for just about everything. Since many people have asked - yes, I am a
Scot and live in Scotland.

Warning: this story contains scenes of graphic teenaged sex.

THE LAIRD'S SON
Part Five

     Jamie sighed deeply and opened his eyes. "What happened to Rob MacLean
at Inverbank would never happen to you. You could shag sheep in public and
the villagers wouldn't bat an eye, so you can stop worrying about that at
least. Look at what your father gets away with."
     "Did you know him - the artist?" Michael asked. He could remember the
handsome, middle-aged man well and felt the first stirrings of jealousy.
     Jamie nodded. "He lives in Edinburgh now. I've seen him a few times.
He's doing really well for himself."
     Michael had been away at school when two men (never caught) had gone
to the man's isolated cottage and beaten him so badly that he had spent
weeks in hospital. He had heard about it, though. Everyone had heard about
it. When he came out of hospital, he had sold the cottage and never
returned. Michael calculated how long ago that had been and realised that
Jamie must have been fourteen at the time.
     "Were you lovers?"
     "Yes, Michael. We were lovers, and you can drop that tone. It was me
who came on to Rob, not the other way around. And he taught me a hell of a
lot. It wasn't just about sex."
     Michael still found it hard to come to terms with the fact that Jamie
had been sexually active since he was twelve and had chosen to believe him
a victim. But this was different; this was a relationship. He was sitting
on the bed, his knees up and his back against the wall. He looked down at
his knees and started to pick at his trousers.
     "Are you in love with him?" he asked quietly.
     "No." Jamie massaged his eyes. "I thought I was for a while, but it
was because I could talk to him. You're not the only one who had problems
coming to terms with their sexuality, and he understood what I was going
through. I despised most of the punters I was selling sex to, but
sometimes..." He stopped and shook his head. "I hated those trips into the
city. I felt as if everyone on the train knew what I was about to do. Rob
helped me deal with things; he was incredibly patient. I was generally a
little shit."
     "And you're still lovers." Michael's voice was hoarse with emotion and
he cleared his throat. He didn't believe that Jamie wasn't in love with Rob
MacLean. There was a quality of tenderness in his voice when he spoke about
him that Michael had never heard before. He couldn't look at Jamie because
he was afraid he would make a fool of himself.  It seemed to make it much
worse that Rob was a mature man who was in control of his life, not to
mention his sexuality. If it had been another boy then Michael felt he
might have had a chance but he couldn't compete with that. He heard Jamie
get up and come towards him and he tensed. He couldn't bear the thought of
his pity.
     Jamie touched Michael's hand. "Behave yourself, big man," he said
quietly. "I'm not in love with him and we're not lovers any more. I don't
have a boyfriend and the girls I see don't mean anything. Come on, shift
and make space for me."
     Michael lay on his side and Jamie lay down beside him and squeezed his
shoulder in a gesture of friendship.
     "I've always wondered exactly what was going through your mind when
you were stalking around on the battlements and talking to yourself," he
said softly.
  "I used to watch you a lot."
     "How?" Michael asked, startled.
     "From the top of the old folly. That's where I went to lick my wounds
- nobody was going to follow me up there. The view of the castle is crystal
clear and it drew me like a magnet. I hated the fact that it did, and I
hated you more than anything. I thought you had everything," he said, and
smiled wryly. "I couldn't stop watching, though. I even stole binoculars so
that I could see you better."
     "You might have been killed," Michael said, that thought uppermost in
his mind. The folly was a ruin and a climb to the top was potentially
lethal.
     Jamie shrugged and moved onto his back. "That was part of it - a sort
of Russian roulette. Sometimes it was hard not to just let go. But that
wasn't the deal I'd made with myself." He sighed deeply. "I was really
fucked up. Still am, come to that.  I'm not good at..." He paused and gave
a hollow laugh. "Christ, what an understatement! I am fucking terrible at
dealing with relationships."
        He wasn't looking at Michael; he was looking at the ceiling, his
lean, beautiful face earnest. Michael watched the candlelight reflected in
his dark, sombre eyes, and thought about how much of himself Jamie had
sacrificed for his mother and sisters.  He remembered his youngest sister
holding onto him as if he'd been her father.  And that was the role Jamie
had shouldered, allowing himself to be beaten to protect them all from a
drunk and violent man, bringing money home and putting food on the table,
whatever the cost in personal terms. And the cost was high.
     "I think about you a lot, Michael," Jamie continued. "Before you
caught me poaching last year, I didn't want to. I thought you were a
bastard like your father, whatever your mother said. But I couldn't help
it." He turned to face him again. "You are so fucking beautiful. That tawny
mane," he said, and ran his fingers through Michael's hair. "And those
amazing eyes. Where the hell did you get eyes like that? They're not brown;
they're golden - lion's eyes." Jamie nodded, agreeing with himself. "Yes,
that's what you're like - a young lion, all rippling muscle and majestic
grace. Christ, the way you move..."
     There was poignancy in Jamie's tone and Michael knew he was trying to
say goodbye, but he couldn't let it happen. For the first time, he was
absolutely sure that Jamie cared about him. He had accepted everything that
Michael had told him easily and what lay between them really had nothing to
do with Michael at all. The problems might turn out to be insurmountable in
the end, but he couldn't just let Jamie walk away.
     "Stay with me tonight, Jamie. Please don't leave me tonight."
     "Michael..." He shook his dark head. "I don't think that's a good
idea.  I'm..." He paused. "I'm not what you need. You need someone who will
always be there for you, not a bastard like me. You're not just beautiful
on the outside; you're beautiful on the inside too. I'll only hurt you -
I've already hurt you."
     Despite his words, Jamie's face was full of indecision and Michael
knew that he could make him stay. He manoeuvred himself out of the narrow
bed and stood up.
     Jamie watched as Michael began to slowly strip; shoes and socks first,
then the shirt, button by button. He eased it off to expose his young,
muscular torso, and felt his nipples harden under Jamie's intense gaze. The
button on his waistband was already unfastened and he inched the zip down
and skinned out of the chinos, letting them fall to his ankles.  His hard
cock had escaped the waistband of his briefs and was trapped against his
flat belly. He let Jamie look, becoming more excited and sure of himself by
the minute as he watched the undiluted desire blaze in Jamie's eyes. He
pushed his briefs down and kicked them away along with his chinos.
     And then he stood before the boy he loved, young, proud and smiling,
his head up and his tanned, muscular body golden in the candlelight.
     Jamie sat up and stripped quickly, dumping his clothes on the
flagstone floor. Michael joined him on the bed and Jamie urged him onto his
back and lay on top of him. They kissed deeply, their young, naked bodies
moving against each other in unison. Jamie broke the kiss and began to
explore Michael's body with his hands and mouth, stroking, licking and
sucking, but returning again and again to kiss Michael on the mouth and to
look at him, as if he were making sure that it really was Michael. And
Michael felt the ember of hope deep within him ignite and become a steady
flame.
     Jamie moved downwards and nuzzled and licked Michael's balls before
moving to his tight young arsehole to pleasure him there, his hand reaching
for Michael's straining prick. Michael brought his knees up and moaned as
Jamie's tongue rimmed and penetrated. Then Jamie's tongue was replaced by a
finger, first one and then two, and he grazed against Michael's prostate
while he buggered him like that, his other hand wanking Michael's slick,
young cock with the same slow rhythm.
     Michael's breathing quickened and he grasped the blanket in his hands
and began to thrust, tormented by pleasure. He felt his balls tighten and
he groaned.
     "Christ, Jamie, stop! You're going to make me come."
     But Jamie's mouth replaced his cock-hand, and Michael felt his
tortured prick slide down Jamie's smooth, hot throat. He panted and thrust,
moaning and bucking, trying to impale himself and trying to escape. His
young body arched and he clawed air trying to clasp Jamie's head.
     "Jamieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!"

     Jamie moved up the bed and held him close, stroking him until he
relaxed.
     Michael looked at him and smiled. "My turn."
     Jamie shook his head. "Wait a bit." He brushed Michael's softened cock
lightly with the back of his slender hand and gave his wicked grin. "Once
you've got you're breath back."
     Michael reached down to touch him and found that he was only
half-hard.
     "Uh, uh," Jamie warned. "Leave it alone. I want to last a long time."
     They moved and got under the covers and Michael snuggled against
Jamie's warm, supple body. Jamie shifted position again to make himself
more comfortable on the narrow bed and put his strong arms around
him. Michael knew that despite the fact he had just come, he could easily
become aroused again, but he was glad that Jamie wasn't in a hurry.
     "Don't fall asleep."
     "I won't," Michael promised, but the orgasm had made him drowsy and
knowing that Jamie was going to stay with him made it even more difficult
not to give in to it. Talking would have helped but he sensed that Jamie
had stopped thinking about what he was doing and was just letting it
happen, and Michael didn't want to say anything that might remind him. It
also occurred to Michael that this was how Jamie dealt with things - he
simply shut the things that he didn't want to think about behind some
closed door in his mind. He also realised that one day that door might blow
right off it's hinges.
     One of the candles guttered and hissed and the room grew darker. A
barn owl was calling for a mate and he listened to the lonely sound and
cuddled closer against Jamie, loving his warm musky smell and the feel of
his taut, hard body against his own. This was what he wanted every night.
     Michael started fully awake as Jamie moved to get out of bed.
     "Jamie?"
     Jamie ruffled Michael's hair and yawned. "I need to take a piss."
     Michael stretched and followed him out onto the battlements. Jamie was
watching a beam of light playing across the fields in the distance, and
Michael watched him, marvelling at how beautiful he looked with his
slender, perfect body sculpted in moonlight.
     "Stupid bastard," Jamie commented, and gestured towards the fields.
     Michael moved to stand beside him and looked at the small, bright
light. "What is it?"
     "Somebody out lamping rabbits," Jamie explained. "But whoever he is,
he's an arse.  The rabbits will hear him and see him from miles off and
make themselves scarce. You don't go lamping on quiet moonlit nights, you
go out on dark, windy ones.  Call out the guard's!" he added and
grinned. "You've got a damn poacher - hang him at dawn!"
     Michael made a face at him, but he was impressed with Jamie's
knowledge of field- craft. "Did you never think about becoming a
gamekeeper?"
     "Christ, no! Kow-towing to stuck-up gits?  No thank you!"
     He began looking over the battlements, searching for a spot to pee
down onto.  Michael showed him where, and they ended up having a pissing
contest, their young, forceful jets arcing down and glistening in the
moonlight, while they jostled against each other like children.
     Jamie turned, grinning boyishly. "I won."
     "No way!" Michael grinned back and felt intensely happy that they
could be like this with each other. It was a first for him and he felt
positive that it was a first for Jamie too.  Neither of them had had
friendships while they were growing up.
     They began to wrestle to settle things and were soon kissing, their
cocks growing hard in each other's hands.
     "Fuck, I want you," Jamie told him huskily. Michael felt the jolt of
instant response deep within his loins and pushed hard against him as they
started to kiss again.
     Jamie ran his hands down Michael's muscular back and clasped his
tight, naked buttocks, pulling him close so that their young cocks rubbed
together.  Michael shivered and, grasping Jamie by the buttocks too, moved
to slide their pricks against each other more thoroughly. Jamie broke the
kiss and moved his mouth to Michael's sensitive neck to tongue and
suck. Michael groaned in pleasure and thrust against him, knowing that
Jamie was leaving his mark.
     "I'm going to fuck you, Michael," Jamie whispered, his hot breath
against Michael's ear. "I'm going to push my big cock into your tight
little arsehole until you're full of hard, throbbing meat. I'm going to
slide my hot prick in and out of your boy's arse so slowly that you'll be
begging me to fuck you properly."
     Michael felt his cock thrill and twitch and he shuddered and moved his
head in search of another kiss.
     By the time they reached the bed again, Michael's prick was at full
stretch, his foreskin drawn back and his glans engorged and fiery. Jamie
took it into his mouth, flicking his tongue round and round the glistening
dome until Michael's thighs tautened and he groaned. He pushed Jamie gently
and knelt looking down at him, his breathing short and his eyes raking his
beautiful, lithe body.
     Jamie gave a filthy grin and stroked his jutting, young weapon
teasingly. "Do you want to play with me, baby? Come and play with me."
     Michael reached down and ran his hands over him, feeling the
resistance of taut muscle beneath his smooth, soft skin. Jamie moved
against his touch sensuously; his enjoyment of being stroked and admired
obvious.
     "You're like a cat," Michael told him, and shifted position so that he
could use his mouth as well as his hands.
     He teased Jamie's nipples until they were hard little nubs of pleasure
and then he began to suck on each in turn while Jamie caressed his head and
shoulders.  He raised his head and then straddled Jamie's chest, meeting
his dark, dilated gaze as he leaned forward to stroke his excited prick
against Jamie's beautiful, young face.
     Michael watched the velvet soft head of his rigid cock stroking along
the line of Jamie's firm jaw, against his high cheekbones, nudging into his
strong chin and smearing across his moist parted lips, and groaned. Jamie's
agile tongue darted and flicked and Michael felt a lightening bolt of
intense pleasure shoot through his entire body.
     Jamie tried to grasp his buttocks to pull him into his mouth, but
Michael tensed and drew back and Jamie let him be. Michael grinned at him
and continued, running his cock over Jamie's throat, and onto his smooth,
hard chest, and Jamie shifted position so that he could watch too. Michael
rubbed his sensitive cockhead against Jamie's right nipple, and felt his
hot, young tool throb as he withdrew and saw the gleaming thread of precum
that stretched and joined his prick to Jamie's hard, little teat. He
glanced at Jamie's face, but Jamie, with his strong voyeuristic nature, was
lost in the erotic game.
     Michael attended to Jamie's left nipple, turned on even more by the
fact that he was stimulating Jamie as much as he was exciting
himself. Jamie wanted more this time, though, and placed his hand on
Michael's haunch to keep him still while he fondled his balls. He spat on
his fingers and reached between Michael's open legs and stroked his tight,
little arsehole for a moment before penetrating him with his finger, his
free hand wanking Michael's blazing rod against his nipple as they both
watched.
     "I'll come," Michael warned, breathing hard. Jamie squeezed the base
of Michael's swollen shaft and let him go.
     Michael's prick was oozing precum and he snaked a gossamer trail down
Jamie's flat, muscular belly and began to stroke Jamie's inner thighs with
it before nudging it against his swollen balls. His eyes were on Jamie's
long, curving cock, though, and he was soon worshipping it with his own,
rubbing his straining prick all over his rigid, pulsing shaft and over the
smooth, dripping helmet while Jamie propped himself on his elbows to watch.
     "Aw, fuck, ride me!" Jamie urged.
     They greased each other with Vaseline. And then Michael was straddling
Jamie's hot weapon, feeling the head pushing against his puckered arsehole,
feeling the burning as it stretched his tight sphincter, moaning as it
began to penetrate him and push against his prostate, and moaning again as
Jamie thrust upwards and filled his arse. He was sweating and trembling,
oblivious to everything but the incredible pleasure that was coursing
through him. Jamie levered himself into a sitting position, and Michael
closed his eyes and grasped him. His aching prick slid back and forwards
against Jamie's taut belly as Jamie held him by the hips and took control,
guiding him up and down on his raging cock.
     "Oh, God!" Michael sobbed, arching and shuddering as he began to
squirt his seed.  "Jamieeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!"
     Jamie clamped him in his arms and thrust violently, shouting out his
name as he shot his hot spunk deep inside him.
     Michael eased himself off Jamie's softening weapon and they collapsed
onto the bed together, sated, exhausted, and in each other's arms.

     Michael lay sprawled on the bed, content and drowsy. It was nearly
eleven in the morning and Jamie had left him before eight to get back to
Rowan Cottage and the horses in his charge. Despite the open door, the
guardroom still reeked of male sex, and Michael smiled to himself as he
remembered Jamie shouting out his name when he orgasmed.  They had fallen
asleep in each other's arms and Michael had only stirred when Jamie woke
him to tell him he was leaving.
    "You should bring that gelding of yours over," Jamie told him and
leaned over to kiss him lightly. "It's going to kill somebody if it isn't
seen to. The groom that rides it when you're not here is fucking terrified
of it."
     "I can't, Jamie. It would mean I was questioning the head groom's
judgement and my father thinks the sun shines out of his arse." He could
also imagine how his father would react to employing Jamie to do anything.
    Jamie shook his head. "Well, ride something else then. That Hanoverian
mare you've got is nice." He pulled on his jacket and sketched a wave. "See
you, big man."
     Michael stopped reminiscing and got out of bed.

     His mother was in the morning room writing letters when he came in.
     "Have you eaten?" she asked and avoided passing comment on the new
love bite.
     She looked even more tired and drawn this morning and Michael frowned.
"I had some coffee. Are you all right? You don't look well."
     She looked at him for a moment and put down her pen. "Let's go for a
walk in the grounds," she said. "I would rather discuss it in private." Her
tone was deadly serious, and Michael looked at her wan, pale face and felt
his stomach knot in panic.
     They were well out of earshot of the castle when she stopped and sat
on a bench that circled the massive trunk of an ancient oak tree.
     "I had already planned on telling you today," She began. "Michael are
you all right?"
    He nodded and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and realised he
was trembling. He sat on the grass in front of her and didn't know what to
say.  She really didn't look well at all and he believed that she was about
to tell him that she was dying.  "I love you," he said finally, and looked
down at the grass as he felt the salt sting of tears.
     "Oh, darling!" she said and leaned forward to clasp his hand. "You
think I'm ill. I'm not ill, I'm pregnant."
     Michael felt his jaw drop. He had read about it happening in books but
he hadn't realised it actually could happen. He looked up at her, too
stunned to think, and she put her thumb under his chin and gently closed
his mouth.
     "Twins actually, boys. Your father knows of course, but I didn't want
to tell anyone until I was absolutely sure that everything was all
right. After all, I am thirty-eight. I got the test results this morning
and everything's fine." She grinned at him suddenly.  "Everything is
absolutely fine."
     He knew that she wanted him to be pleased but his head was too full of
conflicting emotions to allow him to make a good job of
it. "Congratulations," he said.
     She patted his shoulder and leaned back against the tree. "Don't
worry," she told him.  "I really am fine. I just feel tired and very
nauseated but it will ease soon. I was just the same with you in the
beginning. The babies will be born in January," she added.
     Since there had been no other children after him, Michael had always
assumed that his mother couldn't have any more - especially since he knew
that his father had never been banned from her bed. "Was it planned?" he
asked.
     She nodded and looked down. "Things have not been straight forward,
Michael. But I do want you to know that since we have been trying for a
baby, your father has not been seeing any other women." She looked up and
met his eyes defiantly. "Nor will he be seeing any other women in the
future."
     And pigs fly, he thought, but tried to smile. "That's great."
     She sighed but didn't pursue it. "I think it would be better to wait
until after the twins are born to tell him that you are gay," she said
carefully. "He isn't going to like it but the fact that you will have
brothers will make it easier."
     Having brothers was certainly going to make his life easier. It would
offer him choices that he just didn't have at the moment. He was struck by
a thought that appalled him.  "My being gay didn't have anything to do with
your decision did it?"
     She looked at him assessingly. "I have wanted another child since you
were small - for me, for your father, and for you. I have often thought
that having a brother or sister to love and confide in would have made a
huge difference to your life. But there were problems. These two," she said
and patted her tummy. "Are for us all, but mainly for themselves. If
nothing else, your unhappiness has shown me how not to bring up a child."
     Michael smiled again, and made it much more convincing this time. But
he didn't think his mother would be allowed any more say in their
upbringing than she'd had in his.

     Michael took Jamie's advice and chose the big Hanoverian mare when he
went for a ride that afternoon. He rode through Druid's Wood and remembered
the first time he had spoken to Jamie face to face. It seemed like a long
time ago now. He had got used to the idea of having siblings and liked it,
and he wanted to tell Jamie about it.  He realised that he would be
unlikely to see much of his brothers when they were little, though. He
would be away at school and by this time next year he would be planning for
university. He thought about university and wondered what Jamie wanted to
study. Michael's best scenario was that they could arrange to go to the
same university, or universities that were at least in the same city, and
share a flat together.
     Jamie was washing out water buckets in the yard when he arrived at
Rowan cottage.
     "Is this okay?" Michael asked, unsure of his welcome now that Jamie
had had time to think.
     Jamie turned his head to look up at him and nodded. "I won't be long,"
he said. "Why don't you turn your mare out in the field by the road, and
come in for a while? Mum and the girls won't be back until teatime."
      He was dressed in riding clothes and Michael loved looking at him
when he was wearing tight breeches. He watched the way his thigh and
buttock muscles tensed and relaxed as he worked and felt his cock
stir. He'd obviously been riding and sweat had made his black hair curl. It
made him look like a gypsy, and Michael wondered about Jamie's infamous
father. He had never heard the man's name. When he had eavesdropped on
stories, the man had always been referred to as "The Gypsy".  If the
stories were true, then he had fucked his way through half of Strath.
     Jamie looked round again and grinned at the physical appraisal Michael
was giving him. He turned round fully to let him see the bulge his growing
erection was making, and laughed. "I love this fucking age - all cock and
hormones."
     "You should be arrested for going around showing that off," Michael
smiled.
     "You'll have to do something about it then, won't you?"
     Michael dismounted and turned the mare out into the paddock Jamie had
suggested, realising he had chosen it so she was well out of the way of the
stallion.  He dumped his saddle and bridle in the tack room and went to the
cottage in search of Jamie.
     "Kitchen!" Jamie shouted. "And leave your boots at the door - I washed
the floor this morning."
     Michael left his boots outside the door beside Jamie's and went into
the cottage. "You washed the floor?"
     "We aren't all spoilt brats," he said and patted Michael on the arse.
"Do you want a coffee?" He smiled. "First."
     Michael smiled back and put his arms round him for a kiss. "Yes
please," he said. "To both offers." He sat down at the big pine table and
watched Jamie make the coffee. "My mother's pregnant."
     Jamie nodded and continued with what he was doing.
     "You know?" Michael asked, slightly put out.
     "She phoned Mum this morning. Twin boys, Aye? Should make your life a
bit easier - unless they're gay."
    "Oh Christ, don't! Jamie, my mother says that my father has stopped
seeing other women," Michael told him. He wanted to know if it was true and
Jamie seemed to know everything that went on in the area.
     Jamie obviously didn't like being asked to talk about Michael's
father, and shrugged.  "That's the word on the streets," he said. He
finished making the coffee, and they went upstairs to Jamie's attic bedroom
to drink it. Michael was surprised by the room, and showed it.
     "What's wrong?" Jamie asked coldly. "Aren't peasants supposed to be
able to read books?"
     There weren't just a few books in the room, though. Three walls of the
large room were shelved from floor to ceiling and lined with them. Michael
ignored the comment and began to look at the collection. All the classic
authors were there and, as far as Michael could tell, most of the well
thought of contemporary ones.  "Goodnight, sweet prince," Michael
smiled. "Do you actually read Shakespeare for pleasure?"
     "Not the sonnets," Jamie said defensively. "I hate the fucking
sonnets.  The only good thing about them is that they were all dedicated to
a guy."
     "There's controversy about that, though, isn't there. Was he shafting
Mr. W. H., or not?"
     "Back off, Michael," Jamie warned. "I didn't bring you up here so that
you could take the piss."
     "I'm not," Michael protested. "Is this what you want to study at
university - literature?"
     But Jamie wasn't talking. He drained his coffee and, putting down the
cup, searched in a drawer for some lubricant. "Shower now, or after?"
     Michael drank some coffee and put the cup down too. "After. I like the
way you smell when you've been sweating."
     Jamie rubbed Michael's cock through his breeches and smiled. "That's
because you're a dirty bastard." Then he lowered his head. "I'm sorry,
Michael. I didn't mean to be a shit.  I never let anyone come up here, but
I wanted to bring you. I..." He shook his head.  "It's difficult..."
     "I know. And it's fine," Michael told him and, putting his arms round
him, kissed him deeply.
     They undressed each other slowly, taking time to arouse each other.
There was a cheval-mirror in the room and Jamie moved and angled it so that
they could watch themselves on the double bed.
      "Oh shit!" Michael gasped when he saw them both in the mirror.
     Jamie skinned back Michael's foreskin to reveal his swollen, purple
glans and Michael watched it avidly in the mirror, feeling his cock already
beginning to thrill.
     "Oh shit, Jamie. Suck my cock!"
     Jamie ran the tip of his tongue under the ridge of Michael's cockhead,
and Michael watched himself shudder and raise his hips off the bed to
demand entry.  Jamie took his cock into his mouth, and Michael gasped again
as he watched the side on view of Jamie's dark head bobbing up and down as
his rigid prick disappeared into his young mouth and reappeared again. He
brought his hand down to stroke Jamie's hair and saw that happening in the
mirror too. It was almost like watching another two boys making love, but
he could feel everything.
     Jamie tensed and knelt up.
     "Christ! Don't stop!"
     "Shh! There's a car in the yard. Did you lock the door when you came
in?"
     Michael looked at him in dismay. "I didn't even shut it, Jamie."
     Jamie was off the bed in a flash and looking down out of the attic
window, his cock going down fast. Michael watched his muscles tense and
knot, and knew something was very wrong.
     When he turned his face was shuttered. "It's your father. He must have
seen your mare from the road."
     "Oh, fuck!"
     Jamie grabbed a pair of jeans from a chair and pulled them on as they
heard the doorbell being pressed. "Don't worry. I'll get rid of him. I'll
tell him you left her because she pulled up lame." He pulled on a
sweatshirt too and made for the door.
    "Jamie!" Michael whispered urgently. "You can't do that. My boots are
at the door.  He'll know they're my boots."
     They heard him call from inside the house and Michael watched in total
horror, as Jamie's face became pale and rigid with anger.
     "I'll just have to stick his head up his fucking arse then, won't I?"
     "Jamie!"
      But Jamie was thundering down the stairs. Michael dived off the bed
and began to dress as quickly as he could. He could already hear raised
voices, and he was trembling.
     When Michael reached the kitchen his father was red in the face and
shouting. "You insolent little bastard! Who do you think paid for this
house?"
     "Get out," Jamie told him coldly.
      "Father..."
      Duncan MacGregor glanced at his son and then did a double take. "You
stupid..." He turned back to Jamie and took a step towards him. "You evil,
malignant, little turd! You should have been destroyed at birth. You, and
your father along with you!"  He took another step and then charged at him.
     Jamie hit him fast and hard and he dropped on the kitchen floor as a
dead weight.
     "Jamie, no!" Michael screamed at him. But Jamie ignored him and yanked
MacGregor's head back by the hair.
     "A little sensitive are we," Jamie asked him. "I'd be fucking
sensitive. My father fucks your wife within a week of meeting her and now
I'm fucking your precious son. You should think yourself lucky that you
have a son at all. You're a fucking joke, do you know that?" Jamie shook
him. "Do you? Screwing all those poor bitches to prove you were a
man. Everybody knows that you're not a man. Do you think they don't know?
You couldn't keep your wife out of another man's bed. And you can't even
father children without the aid of a fucking test tube. Do you think they
don't know that? The whole of Strath laughs at you."
     Michael pulled Jamie off and grabbed his father as he
crumpled. "Jamie!  Enough! For God's sake, Enough!"
     Jamie looked at him with utter contempt. "Get him out of my house!"

     Michael drove. He shouldn't have but his father wasn't capable of it.
Jamie had known exactly which buttons to hit and he had hit them with a
sledgehammer.  By the time they turned into the castle's long driveway, his
father was weeping.  And Michael stopped the car, unwilling to let anyone
see him in such a state.
     "You... You weren't a t-test tube. You were our miracle, our fresh
start. Oh God, Michael! I couldn't forgive her. I hurt her. I meant to hurt
her. I am so sorry..."

End of part five