Date: Sun, 03 Dec 2000 18:36:55 -0000
From: Jamie <virus@dial.pipex.com>
Subject: Chris-and-Jamie  Chapter 13

Same stuff - don't read this is u r underage or u don't like reading stories 
of love between two boys.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

To Luke; whose wonderful stories keep me writing.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The car jumped as it hit a small rock in the road; I woke up instantly and 
rubbed my eyes. Looking around me I remembered where I was. My parents, 
Chris and I were going to our new house.

It had been three days since my Grandfather had died, and my Dad had 
officially taken up the dukedom. Now, we needed to move to the family home. 
At fourteen, I couldn't understand a thing of what was going on. It was all 
like a fairytale story to me; all I could liken it to was the book "Little 
Lord Fauntleroy". Chris helped explain it to me, by just staring blankly 
whenever the subject was mentioned.

Chris lifted his sleeping head slightly, rubbed his nose and laid down 
again. Every now and then muffled noises escaped his mouth and all I could 
do was watch him sleep. His chest rose and fell in syncopation. The light 
t-shirt he was wearing was slightly damp at the top, where he had been 
sweating -- the air conditioner in the car was turned up to full power. The 
reason for this was that we had discovered, just after the announcement of 
my Grandparents death that my Mother was in full possession of a very bad 
bout of influenza. She moved from hot to cold day by day; today she was 
shivering constantly, hence the heat. Even though it was the day before 
Christmas, I had stripped down to a basic t-shirt and even Chris, who is 
usually always cold, had discarded the heavy jumper that had been presented 
to him upon his return to the UK by his parents.

Another jolt in the car caused Chris to be roused from the midst of sleep 
and gasp back the stale air trapped in his mouth.

`Hey, Jamie, we there yet?' He asked, as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

`Just around the corner.' I told him.

At that moment we turned the corner and were met with ten-foot high wrought 
iron gates. As we approached they swung open and admitted us to the gravel 
path, leading up to the main house. When we had been travelling for about 
five minutes we had reached the crest of a small hill in the path and could 
see all the way up to the house...if I can call it a house.

The building towered before us in an old, imposing gothic style with a huge 
arch encompassing the double front door. A set of twin towers at opposite 
ends rose together until they spiralled and discontinued, looming high over 
the house's main roof. The whole building screamed "horror movie". It seemed 
to have been built for that purpose alone. No one could ever feel at home in 
a place as cold looking as this.

The car passed over a small lake and rode to the main door. Turning in a 
short arc, the car came to a rest, sideways on to the door. My Dad got out 
and opened my Mother's door. A tall man came running out and lifted my 
Mother out of the car. To say that they were surprised was an 
understatement.

`Did your Grace have a pleasant drive?' He directed to my Father.

`Er...I'm not really used to any of this. I don't mean to be rude, but who are 
you?' My Father's bewilderment was obviously rising at every movement this 
guy made.

`My name is Henry Thomas. I was the equerry to your Father, the late Duke of 
Nottingham. My duties here used to include looking after the family, but 
since I was informed you would be taking a more laid-back approach I will 
now confine myself to managing the estate and the small farm within the 
grounds.'

He carried my Mother in through the doors of the house. The hall loomed into 
view; it felt very cold and empty. A shiver ran down my back and Chris 
pulled me to him, and began to rub my arms. Henry proceeded through the hall 
and to the right. He entered, what I could only describe as a lounge area 
and laid my Mother on a sofa.

`If you need to know anything about the house or its grounds, just ask Miss 
Williams.'

A tall, thin woman stepped out from behind a curtain and smiled a thin, wry 
smile. I disliked her from the start. She had an air about her of one who 
thinks she knows more than she really should know. The type of person who 
likes to find out as much as she could about a person and then go around 
telling everyone the gory and unpleasant details. Another shiver came over 
me.

`Good morning your Grace.' She nodded to my Father. `And the young Earl and 
his friend.' The last part was added with a manifest sarcasm, directed so 
obviously towards myself. However, no one seemed to notice this.

`Boyfriend.' I corrected quickly. Chris spun his head and looked at me in 
surprise. The retort was bitter and calculated. I felt slightly sheepish.

`Oh, is that what we call our friends these days. I get confused.' She tried 
to laugh, but failed miserably in the attempt at false humour. I tried to 
correct her again, just as Chris clamped a hand to my mouth.

`Er...so what is the house like?' Chris quickly questioned, and released me 
from his grasp.

`The house is called Hatches Chase. It includes 108 acres of land, including 
a small lake, two areas of woodland and a small farm on the south side of 
the valley. It is only 10 miles from the city of St. Matthews and so I am 
led to believe that you are continuing your education at the College you are 
attending at the moment. The third Duke of Nottingham built the Chase in 
1804 to encompass his lavish lifestyle. It was constructed from a small 
country house, built in 1621, in a gothic style to coincide with the 
gentleman's tastes. Now it remains the sole property of the Duchy, belonging 
to whoever holds the title at present. In this case, your 
friend's...sorry...your boyfriend's Father.'

She was beginning to irritate me even further. Chris noticed this and 
quickly began with another question, worried that I may say something that I 
would regret.

`And so how does this whole lord thing work?' My Dad began to chuckle at 
Chris's American phrasing of the question, but was quite intrigued as to the 
answer.

`Well, in 1769 a man called Henry Windsor was given the title of Duke of 
Nottingham by the present King -- George III -- in return for favours received 
from him in the way of his marriage to the German queen. The title and the 
estate passes down through the eldest son, who in 1894 was first given the 
courtesy title of Earl of Sandringham.' She indicated me with the tip of her 
pen. `Your friend, here, has the privilege to be the fourth Earl of 
Sandringham. However...' I knew there would be some way she could get her own 
back on me -- here it comes. `...The title holds no official rank and the Earl 
of Sandringham is only styled as a viscount and not as an Earl.'

Yeah, sure - whatever that meant. I raised my eyebrows and turned to Chris, 
who just shrugged.

`Hell, I don't have to understand it -- that's your job.' I burst into 
laughter. Miss Williams glared at me, as though I had done something 
completely out of order. I grinned back and pulled Chris out of the room.

`That woman gives me the creeps.' I whispered in his ear. `Let's go and find 
our room.'

I indicated the stairs and we climbed them to a first landing. Once there, I 
looked along the row of panelled doors -- I counted twenty doors, one on 
either side, leading down the corridor. Moving down the hallway we tried all 
the doors. They were all locked.

At the end of the corridor, the hallway bent around the corner into another 
passageway that led to another set of stairs. I ran up them and threw open 
the only door at the top. It opened into the biggest bedroom I had ever seen 
in my life. At one end was a large double bed and at the other my computer 
and laptop were set on a large oak desk at the far wall -- under an eight 
paned window. Chris's lower jaw joined mine on the floor.

A door at the far end of the room led into a small bathroom, complete with a 
two-man shower and a bath big enough for about four people to get in at 
once. I grinned at Chris and showed that we would be having some fun at this 
house. A second door led off from the main room. Chris tried the handle and 
walked into my favourite part of the house. It was a small music studio, set 
aside from the main bedroom. In one corner stood my small Wurlitzer Organ 
and my two keyboards were connected to a set of recording microphones in the 
other corner. A bass guitar stood in the centre of the room, and was twinned 
by its neighbour -- a full-size cello. I was going to have a lot of fun in 
this place.

We backed out of the studio and Chris took a running leap at the bed. As his 
full weight hit it he was catapulted upwards, towards the ceiling high above 
him. After a few bounces he eventually returned to Earth and allowed me to 
join him. The four-poster could easily accommodate both of us. Reaching out, 
I pulled the heavy curtains surrounding the bed shut.

I began to softly stroke his mousy blond hair and whispered into his ear 
about the things I would do to him given the chance. Grinning at me I was 
pulled into the biggest kiss I could ever imagine.

We were interrupted by a knock at the door and Miss Williams entered.

`I'm glad to see that you have found your room, James.' She glared at me. I 
felt the eyes penetrate my skull and find my brain; it was as if she were 
reading my thoughts. I shrugged off the sensation.

`Christopher, we have prepared a room for you in the East Wing of the house. 
I am sure you will be more comfortable there.'

`Actually Chris will be staying here, with me.' I blurted out. She looked 
startled.

`But, there is only one bed, and naturally you do not wish to have him sleep 
on the floor.' She knew the situation, but did not want to be the first to 
mention it.

`We only need one bed.' I never took my eyes from hers.

`Well, James, now that you are the Earl of Sandringham you have a reputation 
to uphold. The House of Nottingham would not like to see it tarnished. I 
feel it more appropriate to see to it that you have separate accommodation.'

`They are quite happy as they are, thank you Elaine.' Henry had come up 
behind Miss Williams and smiled at us both. I heard Chris breathe a sigh of 
relief. `Must move with the times; surely a person such as yourself would 
know that.' He said sarcastically. The mutual dislike feeling was apparently 
common towards her.

Knowing that she was beaten, Elaine swept out of the room and we heard her 
descend the stairs heavily.

`Don't take any notice of her. Too set in her ways is that woman.' Henry had 
a nice voice. It had a slight country twang to it, but was still dry enough 
for it to be called southern. He was a relatively young man -- about his 
early thirties. The crop of brown hair on his head was thick and had decided 
a long time ago that no matter how hard you brushed it, it would never 
return to its original position. `You two have fun, and I'll see you at 
dinner tonight.'

He left closing the door behind him. I leapt on Chris as soon as I heard him 
reach the bottom of the steps. My hands flew over his chest and lifted the 
t-shirt over his head. Grinning at me, he reciprocated the gesture and 
managed to strip me down to my boxers and socks in a matter of seconds.

My erection had managed to find its way out of the front of my boxers and 
had raised its head, waiting for it to be consumed by an eager Chris. He 
grabbed it by the neck and slowly slid his hand up and down a few times. 
Chris flicked his tongue over the opening and retracted the foreskin to 
reveal the shiny purple head. He pounced and sucked it all the way down his 
throat. I could feel that it was touching the lining of his oesophagus and 
hoped that it wasn't restricting his breathing. It didn't seem to be and so 
I let him carry on with his ministrations.

He pulled the shaft out of him and resumed licking and teasing the head, 
with his fiery tongue. The swelling of my member continued and it began to 
pulsate in his hand. I could feel his sweet lips curving the shape of my 
boner and then he suddenly swallowed it again. Sucking up and down the 
shaft, he took wild and uncontrolled breaths each time he buried his face in 
my abdomen. I laid back and floated up to heaven. But I was pulled back to 
Earth with an ear-piecing scream as I orgasmed violently. I knew that my 
parents would be able to hear something like that two floors down and 
stopped myself from doing anything else.

Amidst the giggles, Chris managed to let my, now limp, member slip from his 
mouth -- having downed all the juices it had to offer to him.

--------------------------------------------------------

From somewhere came a small `click' and my Father's voice boomed out at us.

`Boys, food!'

The sound had apparently come from nowhere.

Chris and I, who were lying in bed wrapped in each other, quickly scurried 
about collecting our clothes from where they had be strewn in our vicious 
love-making session of twenty minutes ago. After a close encounter with a 
pair of inside-out trousers, we made it to the stage of rising from the bed.

Chris gave out a yelp of surprise and I thought that I had trodden on his 
foot or something. My mistake was obvious as he pointed to a black speaker 
on one side of the door. The word `intercom' was clearly written down one 
side. So that is how Dad had managed to throw his voice so well.

Eventually we managed to stagger downstairs to the front door. Now the 
question remained -- where the hell was the dining room? Looking about us, 
Chris pointed out a small corridor, which lead to a door at the far end. 
Travelling down it we soon reached the door and threw it open. A large room 
met our eyes. Heavy drapes hung from every corner -- depicting huge battle 
scenes of men on horseback; they were fighting in every imaginable form. 
This Pomp and Circumstance was beginning to irritate me. So far, the only 
room that didn't have drapes or tapestries was my own.

My eyes rested on the table, which was so long that it looked as though it 
could fit thirty people. Down at the far end were my Mom and Dad, with four 
other places set beside them. I felt Chris take my arm and bellow at the top 
of his voice.

`The Earl and Countess of Sandringham, presenting themselves to the Duke and 
Duchess of Nottingham!' He shouted, as though he were the announcer at some 
function or other in the olden days. I began to giggle and we walked 
steadily to the other end of the table to meet my parents.

`Hang on.' I stopped him. `Which one of us is the Countess?'

`Well I sure as hell ain't no woman.' He laughed and sat down at the table. 
My face broke into a huge grin and I sat beside him. Henry and Elaine soon 
filled the opposite places; they had both come in from offices located at 
corridor at the top of the first flight of stairs.

A few minutes later, Mom, who had disappeared for a few minutes re-entered 
from a side door, obviously connecting to the kitchen, and laid before us a 
magnificent spread of roast chicken. I licked my lips at the thought and 
began to cut into the wonderful bird. I was so content I believed I could 
cry. But there was no time for that now -- I still hadn't seen the rest of 
the house.

---------------------------------------

mail me - virus@dial.pipex.com