From: davistrell@aol.com (DavisTrell)
Subject: The Remains of my Stay (DTrell...1/2) ...Brit parody
Date: 7 Jun 1996 08:50:53 -0400

The Remains of my Stay.  1/2
davistrell@aol.com

    Dear Mr. Hobson,
 I was so pleased to hear that you'd been kepton at Andringham, after my
godfather's untimely passing. You were andstill are no doubt a most
excellent butler, and I'm sure you will perform your duties for the new
owners with that most exquisite dignity you always manifested, as in the
old days.
 I remember so well, so happily the summer I spent after coming down from
Oxbridge University. Andringham was everything I had been led to believe.
A country mansion set in a pastoral scene worthy of Constable. Motorcars
may have replaced horses, wireless radio replaced the gossip of the
yokels, but Andringham remains locked as ever in  the 18th century, with
its Regency architecture and extensive grounds. I remember the day I
arrived, fresh from the taxi from the train station, and you carried my
bags, walked me through the marbled corridors, up the plush winding
staircase, passing portraits of the house's ancestors, and showed me to my
room.
 Most pleasant, with a four poster bed, a wash-stand and a Queen Anne
chair, as you so graciously informed me, when I inquired. I quickly felt
at hoast tray, waited till I'd finished and helped me dress.A little pat
on the bottom, you made me feel like a fourteen year old, to tell me I was
ready to face the remainder of the day. You must've been the youngest
butler, in service, having been promoted from chauffeur, after the
unfortunate accident that Uffington, your predecessor had with the
twelve-bore shotgun. You looked so smart, if a little stiff in your
uniform, but carried it off well, just as you did with your duties.
 Then came the incident. You must remember. 
 That time you caughtme with the housemaid. Throwing her out, you told me
you had no choice, but to inform my godfather; after all it was your duty.
I threw myself at your feet, clutched you by the legs,  begging you not to
tell. I pleaded with you. I would've done anything to prevent you from
reporting me. You thought for a few moments. Then from the confines of
your elegant trousers, emerged your fine, strong penis, standing in
erection, military fashion, true to your unflappable demeanor. I  took it
into my mouth, which was surely your intention, and began to suck my first
cock. Of course I'd heard of such things at University, prefects with
their fags and suchlike, but it'd all been hearsay.
 Would cock taste like fish? Or like bratwurst like that German undergrad
told me? No, it tasted like you, Hobson, cock will always taste of you. I
took your ejaculation like a catholic devouring the eucharist, a
consummation devoutly to be wished, I was absolved, you picked me up and
kissed my cum-covered face, holding on till my knees buckled, and abruptly
left the room, with no expression on your face, other than poking your
tongue, so that it bulged out your cheek. Zipping your fly with
circumspection, a gentleman's gentleman to the last.
 After that, I couldn't get enough. I wanted your dick, went gimshay
cockhappy as those in the Indian Service call it, and sucked you off in
vestibules, broom closets, wardrobes, pantry, upstairs and down. 
 Once at dinner I sort of back handed, grabbedyour crotch, while you were
serving soup. You turned not a hair, butgave me hell later. Then one
night, in early September, you came to myroom and woke me. Taking down
your pants, displaying your asever-ready hardon, pulled back the covers. I
went for your dick asper usual, but you motioned for me to stop. You
explained I hadanother orifice that would do. You tickled my butt-hole
with twofinger pads, and showed me a new pleasure. You rolled me over on
myfront, pulled apart my butt cheeks and started licking my shy rosebud.I
got so excited, that involuntarily, I came. You wiped up my cream,and
smeared your fingers and my asshole, starting to push inside.First one
digit, then another. Moving around with a rotating motion,till finally,
you were able to put your penis against the opening,slide, push in,
driving in until I totally sheathed it, could feelyour nuts pressed
against my legs. It was intense. You started to pushand pull,your body
above my back, your belly brushing my buns, andstarted to slide back and
forth, driving me into a delirium. If thereis a heaven, there's got to be
a lot of butt-fucking going on. I couldfeel you sweat from your exertions,
as you penetrated me deep,withdrawing a little then slamming home again.
Suddenly you seemed toshudder. My ass got all wet and sticky, as you
dropped your load,staying inside me till you spewed out every last little
drop. Werolled over, I licked off the cum from your softening cock, and
youheld me against your chest and I could hear your increased
heartbeat.Twice more you had me that night, I was counting, and you
returned asdawn was breaking, to the servants quarters, to ready for the
day'swork ahead. I lay in our fuck-nest and fell exhaustedly to sleep.


The Remains of my Stay.  2/2

 You woke me for lunch, as if nothing unusual had happened and I looked
dreamily into your face. But a world had changed. A world had grown
bigger, possibilities had been opened, possibilities penetrated, a new
beginnininghad been posited.
 I'll never forgot how you rodgered me on the billiard table.
 You'd told me to lay face up, naked on the table hands and feet stretched
to each corner pocket. Then you set up the balls, ready fora trick shot.
You made your expert stroke, cracked the break, and two balls landed in
either of my hands. Two entered my open armpits and you richocheted two
more, that bounced off my inner thighs, crossed over, bouncing against  my
calves, hit the rail, collided with the black ball, that rolled until it
gently plopped against my asshole. You mounted the table, mounted me,
fucked me royally and we both spilt a copious amount of cum. I would see
you days later, still trying to remove the stain from the green felt. You
told me that cum doesn't stain, but no matter what solvent you used you
couldn't get rid of it. Somehow Ihope you never succeeded and the now dry
wet-spot is still there to thi America. I've been living with a U.S.
congressman's son, and we plan to make a home together in Delaware. The
radio market has a great demand for writers, so I've been thinking of
writing about you and me, in a radio drama. Of course, I'll have to switch
me to a girl.
  I'll name it after you and remember the times I had, sucking onHoward's
End.    'Bye Howard, I'll always remember you.