Date: Sun, 28 Jul 2013 04:44:32 -0700 (PDT)
From: Wombat <bungala_wombat@yahoo.com.au>
Subject: 'The Old Valley Road Hotel #64' {Wombat} ( MM SciFi Anal Size Musc Biker ) [ 64 ! xx ]

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The Old Valley Road Hotel.

By Wombat.
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Any constructive comments are appreciated.
I'm at 'bungala_wombat@yahoo.com.au'.
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Chapter 7 - 'A Rainy Day' Part 4

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Part 64: New Year's Eve
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Paul was very reluctant to go to the McBrides' New Year's Eve party
but his parents insisted.  They said that the McBrides had invited him
as well as his parents and expected him to attend.  Paul very much did
not want to go to the party especially after his father had mentioned
that quite a few of George McBride's Federal parliamentary colleagues
from the Liberal Party and their wives from Canberra were going to be
there as well as some political staffers.  The prospect of being stuck
with all those boring politicians and their wives was to Paul frankly
appalling.

However, he had been friends with Lachlan McBride for a long time.  He
hoped to spend a bit of time with Lachlan but understood that Lachlan
was likely to be too busy being a host to the multitude of guests.

Lachlan was the only son and middle child of George and Myrtle
McBride.  He was twenty one years old and had just completed his
agricultural science degree at the University of Sydney.  He was a
tall fit lean young man with a strong, athletic and muscular build,
broad shoulders, straight blond hair, blue eyes, narrow waist and
hips.  At 188 cm. (6'2") and 95 kilograms (210 lb.) he looked the very
picture of a well-tanned fit strong young Australian horseman from a
sheep or cattle station (ranch).  His two sisters were Agnetha and
Cynthia.

Paul's father was dressed up in clerical garb, a dark grey suit with a
clerical collar.  His mother wore a long-sleeved evening dress made of
a light material printed with roses.

Paul chose to wear a short-sleeved figure-hugging white shirt of thin
polyester that showed off his splendid pectoral and shoulder muscles;
the sleeves were high enough to display his big bulging well-veined
biceps.  He teamed that with a tight-fitting white pair of very short
light nylon shorts with a wide black leather belt.  The shorts were
short enough to display his thick powerfully muscled thighs as well as
a bulge showing off his large genitals.  He finished off the ensemble
with a short pair of white socks and a pair of black runners.  He had
very little body hair.  He knew from experience that the outfit he
chose pulled in the chicks at University.  He was a rugby player with
the body to show for it.

Then he applied gel to his blond hair and pushed the hair up into a
faux hawk.

His parents were waiting for him in the sitting room when he came
downstairs.

His mother greeted him with: "You're not going like that, are you?"

She immediately launched into a tirade saying that his clothes were
most inappropriate; his shorts were indecently short and he looked
absolutely outre.  She ordered him to go and get changed into
something decent.

Paul refused.

His father looked him up and down with one eyebrow raised.

"Your display of naked thigh is rather de trop.  You are committing a
sartorial faux pas that you may come to regret," he warned.

Paul was unmoved.

As they were about to get into the Corolla his mother asked him if he
was wearing any underpants.

"No," replied Paul.

His mother was horrified.  She told him that it was indecent and
obscene.  Only the very lowest class of people went without
underpants.  She told him that he must immediately go back upstairs
and put on some underpants.

His father heaved a sigh of resignation.

"Darling, not now please.  We'll be late and the McBrides do expect us
to be punctual," he said.

They all got into the station wagon and his father drove off.  Paul
found the back seat cramped.  He was too big to fit and he could not
get comfortable.

He wished that his brother Frank had left his little second-hand
Daihatsu four-wheel-drive with his parents instead of leaving it with
friends in Canberra.  He had the feeling that Frank did not trust him
with it.

The drive out to the McBride homestead seemed interminable although
Paul knew it was only a few kilometres (miles) out of the town.  His
mother was making polite conversation while his father drove carefully
along the road winding through the hills.  Paul thought sourly that
she was trying to gloss over the earlier tensions.  He caught his
father's eye in the rear-view mirror.

"Cheer up, son," he said with a half-smile on his face.  "It's not
that bad.  I'm sure you'll have fun there."

There was silence from his mother.

At last the stone gate-pillars of the McBride homestead 'Balmoral'
came into view.  It was named after the residence in Scotland
belonging to Queen Victoria and Queen Elizabeth and was a well-known
Merino sheep stud.  The Hamilton-Forbes family drove through the gates
along the driveway to the grand two-storey Victorian Renaissance-style
mansion that was the McBride homestead.  In front were already parked
a number of large cars including big white C-plated Australian
Commonwealth Government luxury sedans.

His father found a park.  The little Toyota Corolla station wagon
looked quite humble parked among the big luxury sedans.

Paul and his parents entered through the front door and were greeted
by a very formal-looking balding middle-aged man wearing spectacles
and a white jacket with black bowtie and black trousers.  He directed
them to a younger man similarly attired in a white jacket and black
trousers.  He led them into the ballroom where they were greeted by
George and Myrtle McBride in evening dress.  If the McBrides
disapproved of Paul's outfit they did not show it.  George had a chit-
chat with Paul's parents while Myrtle expressed her regret to Paul at
hearing that he had done so badly at University and hoped that he
would have better luck with his studies the following year.

A couple came up behind them and the Hamilton-Forbes family moved on.
A man in his forties offered them a tray of tall flutes filled with
champagne.  Paul refused and asked for a beer.  The man snapped his
fingers and a young woman appeared with a tray of glasses full of
beer.

"It's Coopers Sparkling Ale, which is very nice," said the young
woman.  "I hope it will be all right for you."

Paul picked up a glass of beer and took a sip.

"Tastes all right.  It'll do fine."  He smiled reassuringly at the
woman who smiled back at him.

He saw that his parents were already engaged in conversation with
Colonel Gunn and his wife.  He had no doubt that if he joined them the
colonel would express the same crass sentiments about his university
career as Myrtle McBride had done.  Either that or he would try and
pressure Paul into joining his troop of pretend soldiers.

Paul walked off in a different direction.  Already the ballroom was
starting to fill up with people.  Most of the women were wearing
evening dresses while most men were wearing black dinner suits
(tuxedoes), some were wearing white dinner jackets with black trousers
and a sprinkling were wearing either lounge or business suits or
sports jackets.  No one else was wearing shorts.

Already Paul was feeling underdressed.  Some people were looking at
him with disapproving expressions on their faces.  He squared his
shoulders and ignored them.

He saw and heard a palm court orchestra playing light classical music
on a raised platform at one end of the ballroom.  Potted palms lined
the wall behind the orchestra in a dense line.  Other potted palms
lined the walls of the ballroom at intervals.

He observed that there was quite a large number of strongly-built fit-
looking men in black suits standing around near the walls.  Each man
wore an earpiece with mouthpiece and with a curled piece of plastic
like a telephone cord running from it into the suit.  Paul realised
they were the security men for the protection of the Prime Minister
and the other government ministers present.  He wondered why there
were so many.  He thought it was unlikely that any threatening
incidents were likely to occur here in Ringtail Springs but then it
was only a few months since the destruction by terrorists of the twin
World Trade Centre Towers in New York.

Most of the party guests had gathered near the middle of the ballroom
away from the walls.

Ahead he saw Agnetha McBride.  She looked slim and very elegant in a
long white sleeveless evening gown with sparkly beads and had her long
blonde hair up in an expensively well-coiffed mass of curls.  With her
was a group of young men, none of whom Paul knew.  They were all
drinking champagne.

One of the young men looked over at Paul and said something.  They all
turned and looked at Paul.  Agnetha said something in return.  She
turned towards Paul.

"Well, hullo, sexy," she declared in a booming voice that carried
across the ballroom.  "Showing a bit of leg, I see."  She paused for
effect.  "Paul, you do have magnificent thighs."

"Hi," said Paul weakly.

He was acutely conscious of everyone around him turning around and
staring at him.  Some were grinning, some were smirking and some cast
disapproving looks in his direction.  He started feeling
uncomfortable.

"Come on over and I'll introduce you," said Agnetha.

Paul joined the group and Agnetha introduced him around.

"I see you're dressed appropriately for the weather," one of the young
men addressed Paul.

He turned to Agnetha.  "You must spend a fortune air-conditioning this
old pile."

"It's not an old pile," retorted Agnetha.  "It's our home."

"Oh, well, I s'pose you could call it a palace then," replied the
young man with a grin.

"Except it's not the done thing in this country to refer to one's home
as a palace," said a second man.  He spoke with a very cultured accent
and he was about six feet (183 cm) tall with broad shoulders and a
lean strong athletic build.  "I suppose one could refer to it as a
mansion then."

Agnetha rolled her eyes.

"Do you play rugby?" a third man asked Paul.  "You certainly have the
build of a strong rugby player."

"Yes," replied Paul.

"For whom do you play?"

"The Australian National University Uni-North Owls."

"Rugby Union?"

"Yes."

"That's a rough game," commented the second man with the cultured
voice.  "But you certainly have the build for it.  You obviously work
out a lot.  What do you weigh?"

"105 kilos," replied Paul.

"That's 16 and a half stone (231 lb.) if you still work in the old
units," put in Agnetha.

"And well over six feet, I see," remarked the man.  "You certainly do
have an impressive physique, lots of hard muscle."  He looked Paul up
and down with a slight smile.  "Very impressive indeed.  Perhaps we
should get to know one another better."

"Drake, I assure you that Paul is most definitely not interested in
sex with other men, are you, Paul?" declared Agnetha.

"Er, no," replied Paul taken by surprise.

He briefly considered the possibility of a practice run of sex with
Drake considering the vision he had of Jesus in the church but
rejected the idea out of hand.  There was something deeply
unattractive about Drake although he was very good-looking and he was
quite well-built.  There was something about him that was definitely
not right.  Paul felt very naked, particularly with the way Drake was
looking him over.  He felt as if he were a naked body on a forensic
pathologist's slab waiting to be cut open for an autopsy.  Paul
repressed a shudder.

"Oh, what a shame," said Drake with a slight flounce.  "You definitely
do look as though you have the potential, Paul."

"Oh, stop it, Drake," scolded Agnetha.  Some of the other men
snickered.

Paul glared at Drake.

"Down boy!" exclaimed Drake raising both his hands and looking at Paul
with an expression of mock terror.

"Oh, really, Drake!" Agnetha sighed with exasperation.

They were joined by a distinguished-looking middle-aged man attired
impeccably in an expensively well-tailored black dinner suit with all
the trimmings.  He reeked of old Sydney money.

"My word, Agnetha my dear, you do scrub up well," he said.  "You look
absolutely beautiful."

Agnetha thanked him somewhat diffidently.

The older man looked around the group and his gaze rested upon Paul
with a patronising smirk.

"I must say, Agnetha, you do have an interesting variety of friends,"
he said.

Agnetha introduced the group to him.  She took care to include Paul.
The older man was her Uncle Arthur, one of her mother's brothers.

The conversation turned to subjects foreign to Paul.  Several
conversations commenced as the group started breaking up.  Paul felt
excluded.  He drifted off to the bar where he got another beer.

Walking back he encountered Cynthia McBride.  She was wearing a long
white low-cut evening gown with her hair up in a high-class hairdo.
The dress did not quite reach the floor and it looked rather tight
around her ample overflowing breasts.  It looked like Cynthia had
outgrown the dress.  Paul thought that compared to her older sister
Agnetha, Cynthia looked a bit of a frump, a country girl dressing up.
He was put off by all the cleavage she was showing.  He considered
that it was too much.

"Well, I see you're suitably dressed for the weather outside," she
commented.  "Is it too cold for you in here?"

"No.  I'm fine."

Cynthia smirked.  "I hear you're a hot guy."

Paul felt somewhat embarrassed.  He exhaled.

"Sorry," said Cynthia.

The conversation moved on in a desultory fashion.  Paul wondered why
he was trying.

A young woman joined them.  She appeared older than Cynthia.  She was
wearing a long white linen evening dress with a full skirt and many
frills and flounces of pink and green.  The dress had long loose-
fitting sleeves and looked rather old-fashioned.  The woman's hair was
a mass of blond curls.  Paul noticed that she had darker eyebrows.

"Hullo, er, Kate," Cynthia greeted her.  "I see you've frocked up for
the occasion."

"Your parents' New Year's Eve party is a grand occasion.  It did say
evening dress on the invitation," the woman replied.

She looked at Paul.

"So who's this hot hunk?" she asked Cynthia.

Cynthia introduced Paul to her.

Paul noticed Kate had a somewhat deep voice and mannish appearance.
She had a sturdy build that might hide some muscle.  Paul wondered if
she might be a sportswoman or a female athlete.  He considered asking
her if she was from the Australian Institute of Sport in Canberra but
thought that might be putting his foot in it.  There was something
different about her but he could not put his finger on it.  She
certainly had all the appearances of a woman.  Her breasts were right,
not too big and not too small.  Her shoulders were quite wide but so
were her hips.

Kate asked Paul the usual questions about himself which Paul answered.

She told Paul that she was a political staffer working in Canberra for
Senator Cornwallis, the Minister of Defence Procurement.  She also
worked with Cynthia's father whom the Prime Minister had recently
appointed the Parliamentary Secretary to the Minister of Defence
Procurement soon after his election as a Member of Parliament.  She
told Paul that they all had attended a political seminar held at the
McBride homestead a couple of months previously.  The accommodation
was palatial.  She had enjoyed herself.  It was a very pleasant change
from Parliament House in Canberra.

A group of Cynthia's school friends joined the three.  They chattered
away happily.  One of them announced she had something to show them
but it was secret.

"Sorry, Paul," said Cynthia.  "Secret women's business."

The schoolgirls all walked off.  Kate chose not to go.

"I saw you talking to Agnetha and her friends," she said.  "Did Drake
try and pick you up?"

"Yeah, I think so," replied Paul.

"Steer clear of him, Paul.  He's bad news.  I've heard of guys who've
had really bad experiences with him.  He does like to hurt guys, like
torture them, like for real in his torture chamber.  I hear he's got
one that's fully equipped with all sorts of horrible things.  In fact
I've heard that there've been some guys who've gone with him and have
just disappeared off the face of the earth never to be seen again.  In
fact I don't know why decent people like Agnetha have anything to do
with him like he's pure evil.  I guess it's because he's very rich and
a celebrity and he's so charming and amusing."

"Whooh!" exclaimed Paul.  "Thanks for the warning."

Kate looked around.  She excused herself with "There's Senator
Burgoyne, the Minister for Defence.  I must go and have a talk with
him.  Maybe I'll catch you up later."

Paul downed the remainder of his beer and walked over to the bar for
another.  He observed that there were some other local worthies from
the town present besides his parents, Doctor Hamilton the local GP and
his wife, Doctor Drilling the dentist and his wife, Colonel Gunn and
his wife, Mr Pennyquick the accountant and his wife, Mr and Mrs
Bampton, Mr and Mrs Bletchley and a few others.  Most guests were from
out of town.

Leaving the bar, Paul threaded his way through the other party guests.
Some looked at him with raised eyebrows.  Most ignored him.  Paul felt
excluded.  He could not see his parents.  He decided to go out onto
the terrace outside the ballroom as the ballroom was filling up.  He
went out through the French doors.

Out on the terrace the night air was a lot warmer than in the air-
conditioned ballroom but it was fresh.  Paul was glad to be outside.

The night sky was filled with stars.  The Southern Cross lay upside
down at an angle over the south-eastern horizon.

A large moon just past full was appearing over the eastern horizon.

Paul leant on the balustrade and watched the moon.  It looked so large
coming up over the horizon and it illuminated the landscape with a
pale golden light.  Trees and shrubs in the garden were thrown into
sharp relief.  It was beautiful.  He stared at the moon lost in
contemplation.

He became aware of a presence beside him.  He turned and saw next to
him Lachlan McBride dressed in a black dinner suit.

"G'day, Muscles," said Lachlan.  "How're they hanging?"

"Oh, yeah, OK," replied Paul.  "You?"

"Fine, considering.  It's getting a bit crowded in there."

"Man of the open spaces?"

"Yeah.  Give me a good horse and the open country and I'm a happy
man."

Paul took a swig from his beer glass and Lachlan drank from his
champagne flute.  They leant on the balustrade side by side with their
shoulders touching in a relaxed silence.  They were friends from way
back.

A woman's voice rang out.  "Oh what a beautiful lantern moon coming
up!  Alexander, do come and look."

The terrace quickly filled with people coming to admire the rising
moon.

"Bugger, there goes the peace and quiet," muttered Lachlan.  "Let's go
for a walk."

"Sure."

Lachlan removed his dinner jacket and bowtie, draped the jacket over a
nearby chair and put the bowtie in its breast pocket.  They descended
the long curving flight of steps down into the garden.  They quickly
disappeared out of view of the house among the trees and tall shrubs.

Walking through the dark garden among trees and shrubs, they came to
The Grove, a dense eucalyptus woodland planted about a century ago.
They went in amongst the trees.  Small patches of moonlight dappled
the ground strewn with leaf litter and peeled bark.

Walking with Lachlan, Paul had the feeling Lachlan wanted something.
Was it something to do with sex?  The sudden thought got Paul quite
stirred up.

Towards the eastern end of the grove away from the house they came to
a small clearing filled with a thick soft carpet of long fine feathery
dry grass.  It was lit by patches of moonlight.

Paul walked into a large dense spider web.  He grunted in surprise and
brushed the strands of web off himself.

"Golden orb spiders," said Lachlan conversationally.  "There are a lot
around here this year.  They've recently started coming out."

"Anything on me?" asked Paul.

Lachlan brushed his hands over Paul's body.

"Nup.  Can't see anything," Lachlan replied.

He kept brushing his hands over Paul's body.  Now he ran his hands
over Paul's body feeling his big strong muscles.

Paul thought "Lockie's cracking on to me."  He thought of the vision
of Jesus in the church and his promise to get fucked by Scott.  He
decided to see how far he could get with Lachlan who seemed a much
safer prospect than Drake.  He thought he might try and get some
practice with other men before seeing Scott.

He stretched and spread his arms delighting in the attention Lachlan
was giving him.  He was determined to enjoy this.

Lachlan was clearly relishing feeling all the big muscles of Paul's
powerful body.  Paul was getting quite excited by the prospect of sex
with Lachlan.

"Would you like me to take off my shirt so you can get a better feel?"
panted Paul.

"Yes, please," replied Lachlan eagerly.  He was panting too.

Paul quickly unbuttoned his shirt and hung it on a nearby tree branch.
He stood shirtless in front of Lachlan who immediately began running
his hands over the thick bulges of Paul's big well-developed
pectorals.  He gleefully ran his hands over Paul's chest appreciating
its muscularity.

"You've got such lovely big muscles," breathed Lachlan.  "They're
huge.  They're glorious.  I love them."

By now Paul was breathing deeply.  He gasped when Lachlan started
kissing his abdominal muscles.  His cock was now fully erect and was
uncomfortable in his tight shorts.

"Shall I take my dacks off?" he offered.

"Yeah," replied Lachlan.

With that Paul unzipped his fly, quickly removed his shorts and hung
them on a branch near his shirt.  He stood naked except for his socks
and running shoes before Lachlan whose eyes widened when he saw Paul's
stiff hard penis.

"Geez, that's one big monster of a cock you've got there!" Lachlan
exclaimed.

Paul laughed.  "It does."

Lachlan knelt down and ran his mouth down Paul's abdominal muscles
licking them as he went.  Paul was breathing hard.  His balls ached
with lust.  The tip of his cock was grazing the underside of Lachlan's
chin.  He gasped when Lachlan ran his mouth along the shaft of his
fully erect cock licking it.

Paul held Lachlan's head in his hands and brought Lachlan to his feet.
He planted a sensuous kiss on Lachlan's lips who immediately responded
by putting his arms around Paul's waist and kissing passionately.

Paul's tongue invaded Lachlan's mouth and Lachlan responded eagerly.
Their tongues twisted around each other as they both became more
aroused.

After several minutes Lachlan broke the kiss.

"I think I'm going to come," he said panting.

"Let's fuck," responded Paul.

"You fuck me?  Up my arse?  No way.  I've never been fucked before.
Your bloody great cock is way too big.  It'd hurt too much."

"Aw."  Paul made a disappointed noise.

"Tell you what," said Lachlan.  "Shall I suck you off?"

"Sounds good.  Yeah." Paul replied.

Lachlan quickly removed his clothes.  They lay down naked together in
the long fine feathery dry grass in the dappled moonlight.  Paul lay
on his back.  He ran his hands over Lachlan's sun-tanned body
appreciating its musculature.

"You're pretty muscly yourself," commented Paul.  "You've got a nice
strong body.  I like it."

Lachlan responded by putting his mouth over Paul's erect cock and
started sucking.  He moved his lips up and down the length of Paul's
cock driving Paul wild.  At the same time he rubbed his own stiff
erect cock against Paul's thickly muscled thigh.  He also rubbed both
his hands over Paul's belly and groin.

After about a minute Lachlan jerked, shuddered and groaned.  Paul's
cock fell out of his mouth.  Paul felt Lachlan's warm semen shoot all
over his thighs.  He held Lachlan firmly against his body and gently
massaged his upper back and the back of his neck while Lachlan went
through the throes of his orgasm.  His cock was painfully stiff.  His
balls ached for release.

Lachlan's ejaculation slowed to a dribble.  He relaxed and then ran
his hands over Paul's thighs slick with his own semen murmuring things
like "Such big thighs.  So much muscle.  Oh, fuck, so much hot strong
muscle.  You're so hot, Paul.  Oh fuck you're so fucking hot."

One hand moved up to Paul's groin and encountered his rock hard penis.

He looked up at Paul.

"Sorry, you haven't come yet," he said.

"No," Paul replied tersely.

"Sorry, Paul, you're so fucking hot.  All those big muscles of yours
are such a fucking turn-on that I couldn't help myself."

Before Paul could reply, Lachlan put his mouth over Paul's penis and
started sucking.  He bobbed his head moving his lips up and down the
length of Paul's shaft.

Paul groaned with the stimulation.  He could feel the pressure
building in his groin.

The thought went through his mind that it has been a very long time
since he last had an orgasm, many weeks that have passed since before
his last exams at university and he came home.  He had not been able
to while swotting for his exams and coming to the dreadful realisation
that he was simply not able to learn everything in time.  He had been
in a state of panic.  When he had returned home, every time he had
tried masturbating, which was frequently, his mother had the uncanny
knack of turning up, knocking on the door and wanting to know what he
was doing, whether he was in the shower or in his bedroom.  His
mother's appearance killed his desire stone dead for the moment but
the frustration had kept building up.  Now dear Lachlan was going to
remedy that for him.

Paul thrust his penis up into Lachlan's eager mouth and Lachlan rode
it with ease.

Paul thought that this boy knows what he is doing.  He was impressed
with the way Lachlan ran his lips the whole length of the shaft from
the cock head to his pubic hair.  Not only that but Lachlan took the
whole length of Paul's cock down his throat when he buried his face in
Paul's loins.  The feeling was tremendously stimulating.  He gasped
with the intensity.  He wondered briefly whether Lachlan had done this
before and sucked off other men.

Then Lachlan stepped up the intensity of his stimulation by massaging
Paul's perineum vigorously, the area between the balls and the
arsehole.

"Harder, harder," cried Paul.

Lachlan did so.  He was a little concerned that he might be hurting
Paul but Paul was loving it.  Paul spread his legs and wanted his
perineum stimulated even more vigorously.  Soon Lachlan was using most
of his considerable strength to massage Paul on his perineum.  Paul
was almost delirious with pleasure.

The approaching orgasm blotted all thoughts from Paul's mind.  He
cried out as his groin contracted and he shot his load of semen into
Lachlan's sucking mouth.  He shot load after load of semen and Lachlan
swallowed the lot.  He cried out with the joy and relief as he shot
the long weeks of sexual frustration down Lachlan's willing throat.
The orgasm went on and on until he had emptied his balls.

As Paul was coming down off his orgasmic peak, Lachlan unloaded
another fusillade of semen all over Paul's legs.  His body jerked and
shuddered.  His mouth slackened around Paul's cock as he groaned in
the intensity of another orgasm.

When both were spent, Paul relaxed on his back and put his arm around
Lachlan.  Naked, the two men cuddled in the dappled moonlight.
Lachlan rested his head on the thick pillows of Paul's hot sweaty
pectoral muscles and ran his hand up and down Paul's abdominal
muscles.

"God, that was so fucking good," murmured Paul.  "Thanks, Lockie,
thank you so much.  I needed that."

Lachlan murmured something inaudible in reply.

"Beg pardon?" asked Paul.

Lachlan lifted up his head.

"I said, the pleasure was all mine," he said with a grin.  "It was
indeed so fucking good."

"Thanks anyway.  By the way, you've got stuff dribbling down your
chin," said Paul with a laugh.

Lachlan put his head down and started kissing and worshipping Paul's
abdominal muscles wiping his chin on Paul's skin as he went.  He ran
his kisses up and down Paul's belly.  Paul groaned.

"You know, mate," he said, "I reckon I could go again.  Easily."

Lachlan felt Paul's stiffening penis with his hand and laughed.

"You could too.  Christ, you are a randy bastard!"

"So are you, mate.  You've come twice in the one session.  I'm
jealous."

Lachlan laughed and said, "You know, Paul, I reckon I could just about
come around to being fucked by you, but not tonight.  I'm not ready
for it yet.  I just need to get used to the idea."

Paul lay back with a smile on his face.

"That'd be good.  I'd like that," he said.

"You know, Paul, how about we do something a little different?  How
about ..." started Lachlan.

Paul suddenly sat bolt upright interrupting Lachlan.

"Lockie, someone's coming," he said in a low urgent voice.

Lachlan listened intently.

"You're sure?" he queried Paul.  "I can't hear anything."

"Trust me, Lockie, someone is coming.  I know.  I just know," Paul
said in the same low urgent voice.  "We need to get dressed now."

He jumped to his feet and rapidly pulled on his shorts.  He grabbed
his shirt from the tree branch, pulled it on and quickly did up the
buttons.

Spurred on by Paul's urgency, Lachlan put on his dress shirt, did up
the buttons and pulled on the trousers of his dinner suit.

While he was putting on his shoes, a piercing scream rent the air
followed more desperately loud screams.  Lachlan hurried tied his
shoelaces and jumped to his feet.

"Someone's in trouble, real trouble," said Paul quietly.

"Shit, that sounds like Cynthia," said Lachlan.  "We'd better go and
find out."

The screams continued unabated.

"Fuck, it sounds like she's being raped," said Lachlan.  "We'd better
move it."

The two men moved quickly and quietly through the trees towards the
source of the continuing screams.  Paul had his senses on full alert.
He avoided the big spider webs that festooned the gumtrees.  Lachlan
followed close behind him.

"If some bastard is raping her, it'd be my great pleasure to beat the
living shit out of him," growled Paul.

"You're such a big muscle man, Paul.  I love you," said Lachlan.

The two men moved quickly through the grove towards the screams.  They
came across a figure in white thrashing her arms about and screaming
in the moonlight.  They ran up to her.

"It's alright, Sis, it's me, Lockie," said Lachlan taking his sister
Cynthia in his arms.  She sobbed hysterically into his chest.

When she had calmed down, Lachlan asked her what was the matter.

"It was a spider, one of those great big spiders," sobbed Cynthia.

Suddenly a group of security men charged into the space, surrounded
the three and illuminated them with powerful electric torches.  Paul
saw that they were pointing semi-automatic pistols at them all.

One of them barked an order, "Raise your hands slowly and identify
yourselves.  Miss McBride, come and stand behind us now."

"No," pouted Cynthia and buried her tear-stained face in Lachlan's
chest.

Uncertain, Paul started to raise his hands.

"Pull your heads in, men," snapped Lachlan.  "I am Lachlan McBride,
son of George McBride."  He indicated Paul and continued, "And this is
my mate Paul Hamilton-Forbes."

The security men looked uncertain.  Most lowered their weapons while
some kept their guns trained on the group.  Paul lowered his hands
again.  The man who barked the orders spoke quietly into his
mouthpiece.

After a brief conversation in which Paul heard mention of very short
shorts, the man said, "OK, men, lower your guns but remain in
position.  We have a positive identification."

He started towards Lachlan and Cynthia but stopped when a tall stout
woman strode in between the security men.  She was followed by a group
of men who were party guests.

"Just what is the meaning of this drama?" she demanded.

Paul heard one of the security men behind him mutter, "Oh fuck, here
comes the Dragon Queen."

"Hullo, Aunt Sybil," said Lachlan cheerily.  "It's all right.  Cynthia
saw a spider."

"A spider?" declared Aunt Sybil.  "Cynthia, do you mean to say you
were screaming fit to bust and caused all these dramatics merely
because you saw a spider?  Silly girl!  You're a McBride, not some
fatuous airhead."

Cynthia burst into tears again as she clung to her brother.

"It was horrible, Aunt Sybil," wept Cynthia.  "It was so huge and it
dropped on me and ran across my boobs.  It was so horrible.  I could
feel it tickling my boobs as it went.  Is it still on me?"

"I doubt that very much," was Aunt Sybil's definite reply.  "I'll have
a look though just to reassure you."

Paul heard the security men behind him sniggering.  He saw that the
security men were grinning openly.

Aunt Sybil peremptorily borrowed a torch from one of the security men
and quickly inspected Cynthia's dress.  She briefly examined Cynthia's
cleavage.

"Nothing there, girl," she declared.  "It would've abandoned ship with
extreme haste.  It's definitely not on you.  So pull yourself
together, girl."

"But it was horrible.  It was a huge spider and it landed on me and it
ran onto my boobs," cried Cynthia.  "It was so horrible."

"It landed on you by mistake when you blundered into its web.  It was
driven by pure instinct, the instinct of self-preservation.  You can
say that it is programmed like a computer to drop to the ground when a
large animal like a cow blunders into its web."

"I'm not a cow."  Cynthia stamped her foot angrily.

Paul heard snickers from the security men.

"Nah, more like a heifer," muttered one.

"I did not say you were a cow, Cynthia" said Sybil sternly.  "Please
do me the courtesy of listening properly to me."

Cynthia pouted.

Sybil continued.  "To a web spider, Cynthia, you are a large animal.
No spider is programmed to differentiate between species of large
mammals.  It cannot tell the difference between a cow and a human.  It
will drop from its web regardless to preserve itself and unfortunately
for you, my dear, you were standing underneath it when it dropped and
it, to its misfortune, landed on you.  It would have got off you again
as quickly as possible."

Dr Sybil McBride held a Ph.D. in arachnology and she was a senior
lecturer in the Zoology Department at the Australian National
University in Canberra.  She was a woman of ferocious intelligence and
she was the sister of George McBride.

She shone the torch into a nearby web temporarily blinding a security
man with its bright light.

"I do beg your pardon," she said airily as the man covered his eyes.

She shone the torch up into the web and examined the large spider
caught in its beam.

"A fine specimen of 'Nephila edulis', an Australasian species of
golden silk orb-weaver," she announced.  "They do grow quite big here
in the Grove.  A good-sized female like these here would have a body
length of about 50 millimetres (2 in.).  They seem to do very well in
the Grove.  George did say they had bred up this year."

"They make good eating, you know," she continued.  "The native peoples
of Papua New Guinea consider them a delicacy.  They roast them lightly
over a slow fire and they taste really quite nice, a pleasantly nutty
flavour with a rather crunchy texture.  The last time I was in PNG, I
was prevailed upon to try some.  It would have been bad manners for me
to refuse but I was pleasantly surprised when I ate some.

"Ugh."  Cynthia shuddered in disgust.

A well-built middle-aged man with a trimmed full beard and wearing a
rumpled dark red corduroy jacket came through the line of security men
and up to the group.

"Is everything all right, my dear?" he asked.

"Yes, darling, all is well," replied Sybil.  "Cynthia just had a
spider drop on her and give her a fright, that's all."

"Hi, Uncle Rupert," said Lachlan cheerfully.  "We're fine now,
thanks."

"Oh good. I'm glad to hear it," replied Rupert.  "Look, I'd better let
poor old George and Myrtle know.  They're absolutely beside themselves
with worry.  They think that something dreadful has happened to their
daughter and the security people won't let them go.  They said it was
too dangerous."

He pulled a mobile phone out of his pocket and said, "I'll just let
them know that everything is all right after all."

"Don't bother, darling," said Sybil.  "Save yourself the phone call.
These young men with their electronic communications equipage should
be able to get the message through."

She strode over to the leader of the security detail, the man who had
barked the orders earlier, and spoke to him.  He had a conversation
with his mouthpiece and earpiece.  He spoke with Sybil.

Sybil returned and said, "Message gratefully received and Myrtle says
that supper is being served in the ballroom."

She addressed the security men.

"Gentlemen, I see that you have enjoyed tonight's little drama.  You
may resume your normal duties."

The men melted into the darkness.

Uncle Arthur came up to the group along with the other people who had
come down from the house.  He was somewhat out of breath.

"I'm glad to see everything's all right," he puffed.

"Yes, Arthur, the show is over," replied Sybil.

"Good.  All's well that ends well."

"And Myrtle has just passed the message that supper is being served in
the ballroom."

"Good.  We may as well all head back up there then."

"Good old Myrtle," said Sybil.  "One can depend on her to do her duty
as the perfect hostess.  Her daughter may be being raped and murdered
but the show must go on.  She goes ahead and ensures that everything
proceeds as it should and that supper is served on time."

"Hang on, Sybil," protested Arthur.  "That's my sister you are talking
about.  You are being awfully hard on her."

"And she's my brother's dear wife.  Arthur, you know me.  I do enjoy
having a little dig at her occasionally."

"Hmm.  I have noticed."

Sybil turned her attention to Paul and looked him up and down.

"I'm glad to see a young man with the courage to be different," she
said.  "Most young people are so conformist these days."

"Don't encourage him," sniffed Arthur.

"Dear me, Arthur, you're just as conservative as ever."

Arthur snorted.  "Well, you were the student radical when we were
young.  I had real doubts about George when he started getting serious
with my sister Myrtle because his sister was such an out-spoken
student activist.  But it turned out that the rest of his family were
sound.  You were the odd one out."

"And you, Arthur, were such a stuffy young law student always neatly
attired in a jacket and tie.  Those were the days at Sydney University
in the 60s, the Vietnam Moratorium Campaign, student rights, women's
rights, aboriginal rights.  Yes, I remember our demonstrations against
the American President then.  That was Lyndon B. Johnson back in 1966.
Our bloody Prime Minister at the time, Harold Holt, said 'All the way
with LBJ'.  That was disgusting.  Like we Australians were expected to
lie on our backs and wave our vaginas and arseholes at the Americans
for them to come and fuck us over.  And the premier of New South Wales
then, that bloody idiot Robin Askin, gave the order to his chauffeur
to 'Run over the bastards.'  And our young men were being conscripted
and compelled to go and fight and die in Vietnam.  And the bloody
Liberal government in Canberra were still mouthing the irrelevant
platitudes of the Menzies era.  Do you wonder why we were so angry?"

"That was a disgusting exhibition I thought, you whipping up the other
students with your loudhailer, disrupting the US President,
demonstrating constantly and doing things like holding a sit-in in the
University Vice-Chancellor's office."

Sybil snorted with derision.  Lachlan was grinning from ear to ear
watching the argument between his aunt and uncle.  He knew it was an
old one.  Even Cynthia managed to crack a faint smile.

Sybil turned to Paul.

"You do look faintly familiar," she remarked.

"Aunt Sybil, you remember Paul Hamilton-Forbes, don't you?" put in
Lachlan still smiling.

"Goodness me!  So it is!  My word, Paul, you're lot bigger now than
when I last saw you.  I think you must have been about thirteen then.
I suppose you get sick of people telling you how much you've grown."

"I get used to it," replied Paul with a wry smile.

"You certainly have grown into a fine specimen of manhood, Paul.  I do
appreciate a good strong man with lots of muscle.  I'm planning an
expedition next year to Papua New Guinea to collect spiders from the
top of Mount Wilhelm in the Bismarck Range.  I need some porters to
carry all our equipment because the local people will simply refuse.
They believe that they will anger the mountain spirits who will do
nasty things to them like make all their pigs die.  I'm looking for
some big strong reliable young Australian men to carry all our stuff
up the mountain.  Would you be available then?  I won't be able to pay
you much if at all.  That depends on the grant money available.
However, it would be a wonderful experience for you.  What are your
plans for next year?"

Paul hesitated.  "Well, I don't know what my plans for next year are.
Look, I have to think about it but I can't make any promises now."

"I understand.  I'm not even sure yet that the expedition will get off
the ground.  I hope I find out soon.  If you do decide to join us,
just let us know closer to the time.  Your assistance would be much
appreciated."

She turned to Lachlan.

"What about you, Lachlan?  Would you be interested?"

"It sounds bloody good but I'm fairly sure that Mum and Dad won't let
me go," said Lachlan.

"Shall I talk to them?"

"Er, maybe not.  I reckon I'm going to have to break the idea to them
gently if I'm going to have a ghost of a chance."

"That's the spirit, my boy," said Arthur.  "A spirit of adventure is
much to be encouraged in the young.  Don't worry, Lachlan.  You can
rely on my utmost discretion in the matter."

"Thanks."

They arrived on the terrace.  Lachlan retrieved his dinner jacket and
they joined the throng and making its way into the ballroom where
supper was being served.

Myrtle met them near the door.

"Cynthia, just what were you doing in The Grove?" she demanded to
know.  "You know it's full of spiders at this time of the year and you
do carry on so when you see one."

"Lockie and Paul had gone in there and I wanted to see what they were
up to," replied Cynthia in a small voice.

"Silly girl," said Myrtle dismissively.  She turned to Lachlan and
Paul.

"Lachlan, what do you think you're doing goofing off with your mate
when your duty is to stay here and help look after the guests?  Don't
do it again, please."

"Aw, Mum."

"Don't aw mum me," said Myrtle sternly as she wagged her finger at
him.  "Don't go goofing off again, do you understand?"

"Don't be too hard on him, Myrtle dear," said Sybil.  "Lachlan was a
great help to Cynthia in her hour of need."

"Hmpf!" was Myrtle's reply.

Sybil smirked as Myrtle stalked off in the direction of the supper
table.

"Well, lads, grub's up," said Sybil.  "We'd better go and get some.
I'm sure big strong young men like you are getting hungry by now."

'Grub' was a splendid collection of neatly arranged foods ranging from
hors d'oeuvres, frankfurts on toothpicks, dim sims and small party
pies and pasties through chicken drumsticks, assorted dips, biscuits
and a bewildering array of cheeses to cakes, pastries, fruit salad,
assorted fruits and ice cream.

Paul and Lachlan helped themselves.  Paul got himself a glass of beer
while a waiter presented Lachlan with a champagne flute.

When Paul returned from the bar with a second glass of beer, he saw
that Lachlan was engaged in conversation with a couple of middle-aged
men.  As he approached, one of the men cast a disapproving look in
Paul's direction.  Paul changed course.

He saw George McBride having an earnest conversation with his sister
Sybil.

George said, "Sybil, my dear, Arthur tells me you're planning an
expedition to Papua-New Guinea next year to collect spiders again."

"That's right, George," replied his sister.

"Do be careful this time please.  The last time you went, you insulted
some PNG government minister and caused a diplomatic incident."

"That man was a bloody pig-headed fool!  He deserved everything he
got!"

"Well, this time please be careful.  Last time you insulted the man
grievously and quite unnecessarily.  If you cause another diplomatic
incident I'll probably have to resign my post in the Howard Government
because of the ruckus you cause."

Paul thought to himself with a wry smile, "The argument continues."

He found himself taking rather a liking to Sybil McBride.

He moved on.  He passed a group of men where Drake was holding forth.

He heard Drake say, "Lachlan McBride is quite a cutie.  He looks like
he might have potential."

"Is he that gorgeous blond hunk in the dinner suit who looks like a
broad-shouldered version of the young Brad Pitt?" asked one of the
other men.

"He is indeed," replied Drake.

"I must say, he does look like Brad Pitt when he plays Joe Black in
the film 'Meet Joe Black', don't you think?" offered the man.

"Except Lachlan McBride has broader shoulders and bigger muscles,"
stated Drake. "I agree though that there's quite a resemblance."

"Who's that big hunky muscle dude in the white micro-shorts over there
all alone?" asked a second man.  "The one with the thighs and the
power bulge."

"Ooh, he is indeed tres hunky!" exclaimed a third.  "I do like the
look of him."

"Hullo, handsome," came from behind Paul.

--------------------------------------
Continued in Part 65.
--------------------------------------