Date: Tue, 28 Mar 2006 11:17:48 -0800 (PST)
From: dante umbero <danteumbero@yahoo.com>
Subject: My Chauffeur  -Part V-

This is a story of Gay erotic fiction.  If you are underage: or you or
your jurisdiction aren't prepared for reading about two adult men in
sexual situations than go away, otherwise read on and enjoy.  Any
similarity between persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Thanks for all the comments and words of encouragement.

You know, times have changed since the 1920's, don't make love without
a glove.
Dante-

My Chauffeur                                       -Part V-


The ship rolled to port deeply then righted itself and the wind could be
heard outside the glass of the porthole.  Cecil felt Kingsley's weight
shift against him and then back in response to the storm.  They were due
in Civitavecchia in the morning and he hoped the storm wouldn't prevent
their making port.  He tightened his arm around Bill's chest and felt
Bill snuggle back into him.

In the years since Beatrice's death Cecil had returned to work with a
vengeance and was considered one of the top Surgeons in the Empire.  He
seldom appeared in society and then only at the insistence of Lady
Sutherland, his Aunt Elizabeth.  His life now revolved around his
practice and Kingsley.  Their relationship had returned to what it was
and more.  They still led a double life and Cecil found it increasingly
difficult. Cecil hated having to treat Bill like the other servants
during the day.  Bill on the other hand never seemed to care, and always
meticulously ensured that none of his actions created gossip.
He'd arranged this trip to be alone with Bill.  He lay awake and watched
the stateroom slowly lighten with the gray dawn and listened to the storm
blow itself out.


They started in Italy and then took ship to Greece and later Istanbul.
In Rome Cecil had taken Bill to a tailor and had a suit made for him.
Bill had protested that he didn't need a suit but Cecil wouldn't be put
off.  When the suit was ready Cecil had asked Bill to put it on and he
had taken him out in the afternoon sun and they had walked through the
dusty streets.  Cecil and Bill didn't say anything they simply walked
and enjoyed being together.  Cecil had turned them into a restaurant in
one of Rome's best hotels and the Maitre'd seated them at a table near
the window.

"My Lord I can't sit here what will people say?"  Bill whispered
desperate to get away from the situation.  He was mortified that Cecil
would parade him in society, even foreign society.

"Well we shall soon find out," Cecil replied, "Here comes Porky
Harrington, a chap from school."

Bill turned, startled by the short plump gentleman who was walking
towards their table.

Cecil stood, Bill followed suit and before he could bow in greeting,
Cecil took his elbow and said, "Good God Bill its old Porky Harrington,
a chap I knew at school."  Cecil took the man's hand and they exchanged
pleasantries.  Cecil then turned to Bill and said to Porky, "Old thing I
don't think you've met Bill, my cousin from Canada.  His mother was my
mother's sister.  She ran off to Canada and married some fellow from
Toronto."  Porky extended his hand to Bill and he quickly realized that
to Porky he was just an acquaintance of the Earl of Castleford.

After that they always presented themselves to society as a couple of
friends out on the town in Europe.  Of course they were careful to avoid
people that would've seen Bill in London, but even in that situation
they learned that society had so molded the upper class that they
automatically believed Cecil's story and didn't recognize Bill at all.
Bill gradually got use to addressing his lover as Cecil, and slowly
became comfortable in the charade.

In Istanbul they went out one evening for a breath of air.  Cecil had
been contemplating what he wanted from life.  He was 40 years old and was
no longer satisfied with the status quo of his life.  He had been slowly
thinking out a plan for change, which would allow this relationship with
Bill to continue everyday as they were living it on this trip.
Everywhere they went there was talk of another war, and Cecil worried
that life would change inevitably as it did after the last war, 25 years
ago.  They were strolling down a mostly deserted side street, trying to
find a good view of the Bosporus, when they wandered into a small café.
The music had drawn them in its rhythms and the clapping of the patrons
had created an energy they could feel from the street.  Upon entering
they sat and a breathtakingly handsome young waiter brought coffee.  They
listened to the music and watched it work its magic on the audience.  The
café was reasonably clean for that part of the world and the audience was
a spattering of locals and a few Europeans. Bill noticed that they were
all men and pointed it out to Cecil who was lost in the rapid music.

"Criky, Cecil they're all blokes here."  He whispered.  Soon enough
the young waiter that had served them was striped to the waist and
dancing to the wild rushing melodies.  The patrons were clapping and the
waiter undulated erotically to the music.  His dark hair and flashing
brown eyes shone in the light spilling from the lamps suspended from the
ceiling.

Cecil was aroused by the performance and soon enough the music ended and
the waiter collapsed onto the pillows beside a large Arab who stroked his
bare arm and smiled.  "Bloody hell, Bill I've never seen anything so
blatantly erotic."  Cecil said and clasped Bills hand under the table.
They watched transfixed as the waiter seductively kissed the older man
full on the lips and then stood and pulled the man after him.  Cecil
realized they had wandered into one of the fabled houses of köçek or
catamites that had drawn Lord Byron in the last century and many others
over the course of time.  He had assumed they had disappeared with the
Ottomans.  He was fascinated with the concept that this society could
accept homosexual love instead of papering it over as his own did.

"They're Catamites, Bill."  Cecil whispered.

"Rent boys?"  Bill Laughed, "Well they're better than any you could
find in London."

He and Bill sat and watched several of the other boys dance.  All were
extremely talented and much appreciated by the men watching, both Arab
and European.  Each disappeared after their dance with a patron into the
dark depths of the café only to reappear a short time later.

Their waiter soon returned from his tryst and brought them small glasses
of plum brandy.  He looked from Cecil to Bill and a slow smile curled his
lips.  He asked them a question in Turkish.  Cecil told him first in
English then in French that they didn't speak Turkish.

The boy, for he couldn't have been more than 14, then asked in broken
German, "You und he are together?"

Cecil, whose German was adequate, replied, "Yes we're together."

"I knew this," He said, "How long have you loved?" The boy asked.

Cecil blushed; Bill bent close to his ear and asked, "What's he
saying?"

"He just asked how long you and I have been in love."  Cecil said.

Bill slid his hand onto the top of Cecil's thigh and said into his ear,
"Tell him, forever."

Cecil smiled and the boy giggled and asked, "What your handsome man
says?"

Cecil laughed at the boy's poor grammar and said, "He told me to tell
you forever."

The boy laughed, "You und he very lucky, I was to ask if you would like
to share what love I, Tofi, could give."

Cecil translated for Bill and Bill said, "My guess is Tofi here could
teach us both a few things."

Cecil felt his lust gnawing his stomach and smiled at Bill.  Then turned
to Tofi and said, "I think we'd love to."

The boy's sloe smile was back and he said, "I dance for you first."
He signaled the group of players and said something in rapid Turkish.
The music started slow and undulating and the waiter slowly started
rocking his hips in a slow circle.  He would clap his hands in counter
point to the flute.  Bill sighed next to him and his hand slowly traveled
up and down Cecil's thigh.  Cecil was lost in the music again and the
vision of Tofi's gold skin and sleek black hair.  He noticed that the
boy had no hair under his arms or on his tight belly.  The music became
more rapid and the boy's movements became fluid and he twirled and would
thrust his hips at Cecil.  Soon he moved to Cecil and picked up his hand
and pulled him up to the floor.  Cecil, lost in the rhythm of the music
was moving with the boy who would slide his hands over Cecil's chest as
he twirled around him.  As the music ended the boy stood on tiptoe and
his soft lips met Cecil's.

"Fuckin Christ!"  Bill hissed behind them.

The boy led the pair behind the makeshift bar and through some curtains
and up a staircase to the gallery that surrounded the café.  He selected
an alcove and pulled the curtains closed behind them as they entered.

The alcove was furnished with piles of soft pillows and a dim light
filtered through the grilled window.  The boy slowly went from Cecil to
Bill kissing them each softly and pulling them close as he reclined on
the pillows.  Bill sat on one side while Cecil sat on the other.  Bill
bent and Cecil watched as his lover slowly kissed the boy on the lips and
slowly moved to his neck.  Cecil bent and kissed his lips and they both
started removing the boy's clothes.  Slowly and seductively the boy's
thin body was revealed in all its glory.  When his trousers came down
Cecil could see the boy's small circumcised cock was hard and glistened
with precum.  He had only a wisp of black hair there.
Cecil watched as Bill's red hair slowly blocked his view taking the boy
into his mouth.  The waiter sighed then moaned.  Cecil slowly kissed him
and let his tongue explore his mouth.  Soon they were nude as well and
the boy soon revealed his many skills.  Cecil had never been sucked with
such slow, pressing need.  He managed to suck both of them at the same
time while Cecil and Bill kissed hungrily.  The encounter ended with the
boy between them sucking Bill's uncircumcised cock and Cecil fucking the
boy's arse.  Just as they reached their climax Bill and Cecil kissed
above the moaning boy who sprayed his stomach with his release. They all
collapsed on the pillows and let the glow wash over them.  The boy soon
stirred and poured them more plum brandy from a cruet sitting on a small
side table.

Bill leaned into Cecil and whispered, "I knew he'd teach us a few
things."  Then he kissed Cecil tenderly.  They drank their brandy and
the boy helped them dress.  When they were presentable once again Cecil
gave the boy a hundred pound note and Bill and he left by a side door the
boy showed them.

The boy quickly kissed them each and said, "You come again soon, I liked
much."

They didn't return, to the köçek, they took ship the next night bound
for London.  Their second night at sea they had dined together at a table
that included the Duke of Norfolk and his wife.  Bill, having served at
table for Cecil, was able to act reasonably comfortable when Cecil
introduced him.  After dinner Cecil and Bill went into the lounge and sat
late into the night talking.  Lost in conversation they slowly became
aware that the lounge was nearly empty except for a table of card
players.  Bill asked if Cecil wanted to take a turn on deck before
turning in for the night and Cecil agreed picking two cigars from the
humidor on the bar.  They wandered to a quiet corner of the promenade and
leaned on the rail watching the moon reflections dancing on the sea.
Cecil struck a match and held it first to his and then Bill's cigar and
they leaned on the rail and smoked in silence for awhile.

Cecil's plan had materialized while they were in Istanbul, he never
wanted to hear Bill call him "My Lord" again.

Bill said, "Cecil, this trip has been the most wonderful thing that's
ever happened to me.  Thank you."

Cecil took a deep puff from his cigar then said into the night, "Bill I
don't ever want us to return to the way it was before this trip."

Bill was mildly surprised, in his heart of heart's he didn't want it
either but to his limited experience he couldn't see any other course.
"But My Lord, we have no choice."  He sighed, "I can't be your cousin
Bill back home."

Cecil, let his hand cover Bill's at the rail, "Bill, I want to leave
London, maybe for good.  We can go to Canada or somewhere out in the
Empire.  I'm a very wealthy man, we could find a life together out there
somewhere."  He said pointing to the horizon.

"Cecil, I don't think there is anywhere that would accept what we have
openly.  I've not heard of it if there is. There really isn't a
choice.  In a couple of days I'll be your servant, as I've always been.
This is all just a child's game that's been fun.  We can't change the
way life is."  Bill sighed.  "If we went out there say and I became
your cousin Bill or your friend Bill or whatever, we'd have to concoct a
story to justify living together.  I grew up in a village where everyone
knew everyone else.  If a stranger moved in we'd of known all about them
in a tuppence.  What better story could we have than the truth?  I'm you
servant; I don't mind being your servant, love."

Cecil really hadn't thought about it in that way.  To his experience, as
lord of the manor, his actions weren't questioned by his inferiors and
his equals never mentioned it.  They might very well gossip behind his
back but he had too much money and to impressive a title to be shunned or
cast out.  He saw the beauty of what they had and the absolute conformity
their situation provided society.  He also thought of the crowd of
servants that inhabited his houses.  The Mayfair mansion had no less than
20 on staff and Castleford had more like 100.  They couldn't possibly
live even at home like he would like.

"I know one thing Bill, if we don't leave London then I'm going to
close the house in Mayfair, when I come home in the evenings I want it to
be like it is here, no formality just me and you before the fire with a
good drink and a couple or cigars and a long slow cuddle."  Cecil said.

Bill let his fingers slip up Cecil's wrist and leaned into him so his
lips were just at his ear and he whispered, "I'd like that mate."

Later in the cabin, their lovemaking was slow and familiar but turned
urgent as they kissed and licked and felt each other.  Soon they were
quiet in each other's arms, spent and at peace.  Cecil's mind again
turned to the changes needed in their life to satisfy his desire to be
with Bill.

1940

Cecil turned the lights out in his study when he heard Bill's call from
the dinning room.  He checked to make sure all was ship shape the black
out curtains were in place and he turned the damper down on the coal
hearth.  He descended the stairs of the modest row house in Montrose
Circle to enjoy Mrs. McNulty's dinner.  He and Bill had moved into the
small house after their return from the Middle East.  The Mayfair Mansion
had been sold.  The years since that trip had flown by to Cecil, Bill
still acted as his valet, but in reality they lived together as a
couple.  Mrs. McNulty came in during the day along with a maid to take
care of what Bill couldn't.  Cecil still had his chair at Royal Surgeons
and a practice in Mayfair, but he had cut the practice back drastically
and really focused on his work as a mentor for young physicians.

He entered the dinning room just as Bill was sitting down the last
covered dish from the kitchen.  The dim light of the single lamp made
ghostly shadows in the high ceiling room.  The blitz was three months
old* and Cecil knew life in Britain would never be the same.  He and Bill
took refuge in the cellar when the sirens went off then with the all
clear, Cecil would head to Royal Surgeons to attend to incoming
casualties and Bill would go to the neighborhood defense squad and help
patrol the neighborhoods for the injured and displaced.  The old Mayfair
neighborhood had been flattened and his current house had only been
spared by a few doors.  Rationing only added to the stress of life in
London.  They occasionally still went up to Castleford; but now, since
most of the staff were either working in wartime industries or in
uniform, Cecil lived in only a small set of rooms in the shut up country
house.

Bill ladled a portion of nameless meatless soup onto his plate and Cecil
smiled at his lover.  "Looks like victory stew again, Bill."  Cecil
said and laughed.

"Criky," Bill said, "I could've done with something more filling."
He dipped a piece of bread into the soup and ate dejectedly.

Cecil reached across the white table cloth and took Bill's hand, "Cheer
up love, when this bloody war's over I'll buy us both the biggest steak
the Ritz can cook up."

Bill smiled at Cecil and squeezed his hand in return, "Sorry mate, its
unpatriotic of me I know."

Cecil laughed.  When they'd finished they went through to the lounge and
Bill brought coffee, or the current excuse for it.  They sat in front of
the small gas ring and held hands across the space between their chairs.

"You know Bill if we'd follow my original intentions we'd be in India
or Canada right now.  Sorry we didn't?"  Cecil asked.

Bill laughed, "We'd be eating better I'm sure.  But seriously Cecil,
I'm glad we moved here.  These last few years have been the best in my
life.  I think about what I had before that fight and that handsome bloke
leaned over me poking and prodding in my bits and pieces."  He paused
and Cecil saw the wistful way Bill looked at the dancing blue flames,
"All I had was back breaking work and the aching memories of Tom.
You've spared me that lot, mate and given me more love than I ever
dreamed possible.  I wonder when the bill will appear for all this
happiness sometimes."

Cecil became lost in thought looking back over the years to that day in
casualty when the auburn haired workie had been brought in.  "Ah Bill,
you've paid me any amount owed.  Before you came along I had every
advantage, and yet I was painfully alone, a father that didn't want me,
a mother who died.   Grandparents who loved me but were still always one
step removed from me.  I brought you into my service and used you then I
nearly abandoned you to marry.  Then when I failed miserably and was
reprieved by death you were still there waiting.  I remember how humbling
it was to realize that I, the Earl of Castleford, an arrogant and perfect
symbol of my class, could be loved by a man of more noble feelings than
I'd ever experienced.  It was in that moment I realized that I could
never have you as my servant again.  I feel the same; these last four
years have been the most satisfying of my life."

In the distance they could hear the tell tale whistle and feel the
concussions as the local siren went.

"Fuckin jerries, you'd think they could give it a rest."  Bill said
and stood.  He reached a hand to Cecil and stood him up then kissed him
lightly, "I guess it's to the cellar mate."

Bill picked up the coffee tray as Cecil turned off the gas to the ring,
they picked their way down the narrow steps under the main staircase into
the darkness of the cellar.  Originally used for storage and as servants
quarters, the cellar wasn't all that bad, some of their neighbors had it
worse, or had to go to the underground.  In the farthest reaches was the
true cellar which had stone walls right the way around, it was damp but
it was the most secure.  Bill sat the tray down on the small table and
lit a candle.

"Cripes I forgot to turn out the light in the kitchen."  Bill said
starting for the door.

"Leave it Bill come sit and we'll have another cup of coffee."  Cecil
said sitting on the low bed that they had setup in here.

With coffee in hand Bill sat beside Cecil and pulled the duvet up over
them to ward off the damp.  Cecil's arm laid gentle across Bill's
shoulders.

"You know love, when this mess is cleaned up and the bloody German's
have been put back in their place I wouldn't mind taking another long
trip.  Think Tofi is still in Istanbul?"  Cecil said and smiled.  They
often wondered what ever happened to the boy, both realized that most
probably he had been used until there wasn't anything left by the owner
of the café but it amused them to make up a life for him.

"What a bit of alright that would be.  Old Tofi is probably happily
married to a fat wife with 10 kids running around a little warren of a
house.  When he dreams at night though, my money's on his remembering a
pair of Englishmen who walked into his life one night."  Bill laughed
quietly.

Cecil could hear the concussions getting nearer maybe in the next
street.  He tightened his arm around Bill and laid his head on his
shoulder.


Brief article in the Daily Mail:

The air raid last evening claimed the life of one of the preeminent
surgeons in the Empire
Cecil Beaufort, Seventeenth Earl of Castleford was killed when a bomb hit
his home in Montrose Circle.  An unknown manservant also died in the
explosion and resulting fire.


* The Blitz inflicted around 43,000 deaths and destroyed over a million
houses, but failed to achieve the Germans' strategic objectives of
knocking Britain out of the war or rendering it unable to resist an
invasion.