Souchard

By: Will B
(© 2009-2010 by the author)
 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 12

A hot steamy afternoon in July at the Souchard. Chad and Bruce’s apartment.

“Hey, lover, wanna take a dip in the ocean?” Chad asked.

“Maybe in a bit,” Bruce replied. “I just finished printing out the story we’ve been working on. You want to read it before we take that dip?”

“Sure. Let’s see it,” Chad said. This is what he read:

Lord Desmond and the Virgin

A Bruce and Chad Story

Lord Desmond Fitzhugh was thirty-two years old, and six-feet-two inches in height. He had broad shoulders, slim hips, and massive thighs that drew a lot of attention from the other sportsmen when he had stripped to his small clothes in ‘Gentleman Jackson’s Sporting Club,’ to engage in some fisticuffs.

His thighs weren’t the only thing that drew some other men’s eyes. His eight-inch long manhood could be seen bulging against the cloth of his nether garments. Some of the other pugilists wondered how well he must be able to pleasure the ‘barques of frailty’ they were sure he must have pleasured.

As a matter of fact, Des, as his friends called him, was not in the habit of picking up ladies of the night. His tastes lay elsewhere.

On this evening in September 1761 Des was riding in his carriage toward some place he had never been before. With him was his cousin and boon companion, Sir Henry Cholmondley-Feathering (pronounced Chumley-Farthing). They were discussing an event that had taken place the day before: the coronation of His Sacred Majesty, George III, King of England, Scotland, Ireland, Hanover and France (‘France’ you say? Yes, France, George was the first Hanoverian King born in England and the last to be styled King of France!).

“How did the coronation go, Des? Was it an impressive ceremony?” Henry asked.

“S’help me, Henry, you never saw such a taradiddle. First, as you know, the ceremony had to be delayed for two days because the workmen were on strike.”

“Gads! The workmen should have been horsewhipped!” said Sir Henry.

“I agree. Horsewhipped or shipped to the colonies as felons!” replied the grim-faced Lord Desmond.

He continued, “Then on the morning of the day, no one could find the canopy, the Chair of State or the Sword of State.”

“Good Gawd, Des! I bet the king was furious!”

“Oh, there’s more, Henry! Then the Bishop of Salisbury was so mixed up that in his sermon he kept referring to the huge number of years the King had been on the throne.”

“Oh, no!” Sir Henry giggled. “I wonder if he will be defrocked—or demitered, or whatever they do when a Bishop is sacked.”

“At the coronation banquet, when the King’s Champion rode in to throw down the gauntlet to challenge anyone who dared question the King’s right to reign, his horse turned around and presented its rump to the King!”

“A real horse’s ass, huh?”

“I think the last thing,” Des said, “was when the King was leaving the Abbey, he made some rather pointed remarks to the Lord High Chamberlain, who really put his foot in his mouth when he assured the King, “Never mind, Your Majesty. I have taken care that the next coronation shall be regulated in the best manner possible.”

“Oh, Lord!” said Henry. What a riot!” Henry could not help himself, he laughed long and hard at the tale of mix-ups.

When he had pulled himself together, he said, “So, Des, where are you taking me this fine evening?”

“We’re going to Captain Thomas’ ‘house.’ He has some new virgins, just brought in from the country.”

“Ah ha! Fresh meat! What a delight!”

Desmond sat back and relaxed, anticipating the pleasures to come. He remembered his  twenty-first birthday and how Henry had arranged for him (Des) to meet him at their favorite trysting spot—a lake in the woods adjacent to Desmond’s manor house. Henry had arranged a ‘little surprise’ for his friend; two surprises in fact.

When Desmond had arrived at the lake, Henry had already stripped down to his nether garments and invited Desmond to do the same. When the young buck was standing only in his small clothes, Henry called out, “All right, my fine fellows, you can come out, now.”

From behind a tree came two young men, tall, muscular, lean of belly and oh, so well endowed! Like Henry and Desmond they were clad only in small nether garments that did nothing to hide the large packages of meat they were carrying.

“Happy Birthday, Des,” said Henry. “This is Tom and Sam. I have brought them down from London and they are only too willing to grant you any and every wish you may have on this your birthday.”

“Hello, Tom and Sam,” Desmond said as he looked at the two young studs. “My every wish, eh?”

“Oh, ‘yers,’ Gov’nor,” said Sam. “Whatever you would like us to do!”

“We can take it any way you want to give it to us,” replied Tom.

“Hmm! I think I’ll fuck you first, Sam, and then you Tom.”

Henry gave a slight cough.

“Oh, yes, my good friend! You have arranged all this for me. I’ll fuck you third,” said the birthday lad.

“Thank you, Des. I’m glad you like your present!”

As Des looked down on the naked butts of the three young men, he licked his lips in pleasurable anticipation at the fuck-fest that was to follow. He gave not a thought to the comfort of the soon-to-be recipients of his man-cream. They were his to do with what he liked, and to hell with their feelings! Even Henry, his long-time friend and companion would know what it was like to have a man’s tool up his backside.

As Des came back to the present, he said “Yes, Henry, Captain Thomas always has some prime ‘uns. I think we’ll have a good time.”

Captain Thomas’ House was known to some as a ‘molly house,’ a place where gentlemen could meet to take their pleasure as they saw fit. It was a very luxuriously run establishment, serving the finest wines that could be smuggled in from France, and serving delicious delicacies, prepared by an excellent chef.

The carriage bowled across a bridge, out of the city, to the village of Hampstead, which was a Mecca for gentlemen seeking their pleasures. The carriage came to a stop in front of a stately mansion which had lamps burning brightly beside the massive front doors.

Des and Henry alit from the coach, mounted the steps and knocked on the door. After a spy-hole in the door opened and allowed someone inside to inspect the two visitors, the door opened, and an impeccably dressed manservant bowed them into the entry hall.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I shall take your hats and coats and you may go into the salon.”

The two men walked into the salon which was an elegant chamber, with a crystal chandelier, chairs, couches, and tables.

Sir Henry saw one or two of his fellow pleasure-seekers, and then he espied six tall handsome men, garbed only in white, diaphanous robes that were loosely tied, allowing a clear view of their manly attractions.

One of them, a fresh-faced lad with blue eyes and blond hair, carried a tray with a bottle of wine and two glasses over to Des and Henry, and in a simpering effeminate voice, said, “Oh, la la! Sirs, would you care to sample some of this wine—or perhaps some other kind of beverage?”

“What is your name, my beauty?” asked Sir Henry.

“I am Jem, just arrived in London, and most anxious to please you in any way you should wish!”

“Perhaps in a while, Jem, but I must say, you certainly are well endowed,” Sir Henry replied. “Oh, but one thing I would inspect before I make up my mind. If you would just turn around and raise your robe…”

Jem turned and bent over and Henry ran his finger into the valley between the two firm round cheeks.

“Clean as a whistle, Des,” he said to his friend.

“Lah! Sir. You quite make me faint with gratitude at your kind words.”

Another ‘molly,’ five-foot-ten, with straight black hair, approached carrying a tray of pastries. “Oh, my dear sirs, are you hungry? I have plenty of goodies on which you may nibble!”

“Indeed, my man, your goodies do look tempting,” said Des, reaching out to fondle the package that was on offer.

“Thank you, sir. I’m Fred, and if you should care to spend some time with me, you will find I’m very versatile!”

“I would like to see…”

“Of course, Sir.” Fred also turned around, and presented himself.

Des took one look, shook his head in disgust and said “Thank you, Fred. That will do.”

As Fred simpered away, Des said to Henry, “That one needs a bath.”

Just then two more simpering ‘mollies’ came up to Henry. “Prithee, Sire, I am Luke, lately arrived from Yorkshire, and this is my brother, Duke. We delight in doing things together.”

Luke was about twenty years old, five-foot-ten in height, and well set-up. His robe revealed a package that was to die for. Duke appeared to be about the same age, also five-foot-ten, and his man meat was thick and massive.

“Indeed, sir, it makes me hot just to look at you,” said Duke. “Come with us to our room, and let us take your nakedness in our hands and we will lead you to new heights of pleasure.”

Henry thought this might be an interesting adventure, so he went up the stairs to the private room where Luke and Duke would entertain him. The room was sumptuously furnished with a bed that appeared large enough to accommodate five adults easily.

Beautiful carpets covered the floor, but the most unusual things about the room were the mirrors. Every inch of wall space and even the ceiling was covered with mirrors that captured and reflected every action that would take place on the bed or on the floor.

Luke and Duke may have been advertised as virgins, but they certainly knew how to please a man. When they had kissed, licked, sucked, and rubbed every inch of Henry’s body, and brought him to the point of ejaculation three times, they were lying on the great bed, with Henry lying on his back between them.

“How did you become so accomplished in pleasing a man?” Henry asked.

Duke smiled and said, “When Captain Thomas recruited us, he had us go to a house in London, where we were given lessons in the art of love. He had books and pictures to show us, and older men talked to us about how to please a partner.”

“Enough of this chit-chat,” said Duke. “I feel like eating a little something. Henry, are you game?”

“Am I? Just try me,” said ever-horny Henry.

Down in the main reception room, Des was drinking a glass of claret with Jem. The two men had enjoyed each other’s company, but Des was feeling more than a little frisky.

“So, Jem, shall we have a go at it?” Des asked. “Why don’t you get down on your hands and knees, and I will mount you.”

“Not so fast, Des! I would like to mount you. My pecker is hot for your ass!”

“What! WHAT! You mount me. Absolutely not! I am the cock-of-the-walk here!” Des said.

“I’ll tell you what, m’lord,” said Jem. “How about a wrestling match? Two falls out of three, and the winner takes his pleasure with the loser! Are you game?”

Des was never a one to turn down a challenge, so he agreed.

“I’ll tell you what, Des. Let’s do it like the ancient Greeks did it in their games—no clothes!”

Word quickly spread throughout the house that there was to be a wrestling match.

Captain Thomas himself agreed to be the referee, and Jem and Des quickly stripped and stood facing ach other in all their glory. Each man was tall, muscular, and well endowed.

Men gathered to watch, and quickly placed their bets. “Five guineas on Des,” said one man. “I’ll take that bet and raise it by five more if Jem wins,” said another.

Jem and Des came together, bodies bent and arms outstretched, each one looking for an advantage.

Quick as a snake, Jem hooked his foot behind Des’ leg and brought him down on his back, with Jem lying on top of him.

“First fall to Jem,” said Captain Thomas.

Again the two men faced each other and soon were in a clinch. Back and forth they rocked on their feet, but neither one could gain an advantage until Des was able to get his arm under Jem’s arm from behind and press his hand against the back of Jem’s neck.

Slowly, inexorably, Des was able to get Jem to kneel and then to lie on he floor while Des lay across his body, pinning him to the ground.

“Second fall to Desmond,” announced Captain Thomas.

Both men retreated to opposite sides of the room, where friends offered them cold water, and wiped their faces and bodies with towels to keep sweat from getting into their eyes.

Now they came toward each other again, breathing hard, each one determined to win the next fall. ‘If I win,’ Des thought to himself, ‘I’ll teach that Jem a lesson and give him a fucking he’ll never forget.’

Jem was thinking pretty much the same thing. ‘I’ve got to win this fall. I want to show that arrogant bastard he can’t assume that he’s the boss in everything, just because he’s got a title!’

Again the two opponents circled each other, looking for an advantage. Circling … looking for the chance … Circling.

They went into a clinch, and then Jem had Des’ head locked between his arm and his body. Des could not break the hold. Slowly, Jem forced his opponent to the ground, and then pinned him, holding him to the ground.

“Third fall to Jem. Jem’s the winner,” called Captain Thomas.

“Take him. Fuck him right here,” someone in the crowd called.

Des looked at Jem. “Are you going to collect on the bet now?’ he asked.

“No, Des. I am not going to collect on my wager and have my reward with you in front of all these people … Captain Thomas, I’m going to take Lord Desmond to my room. Would you have the servants bring some wine up, please?”

“Come on, Desmond. We need to talk and refresh ourselves before anything else.”

Bemused, Desmond followed Jem up the stairs to his room. In the room, seated in a comfortable chair in front of a fire, Desmond found himself being waited on by Jem, who handed him wine, and then sat in a chair facing him.

“Thank you, Jem. You are treating me far better than I deserve,” Des said.

“Des, I have no choice but to treat you as I would hope to be treated if you had won two falls out of three.”

“What do you want, Jem?” asked Des.

“Just this,” Jem said as he pulled Des to his feet, and kissed him on the lips. After a moment Des responded, and responded some more.

The next morning Des and Jem came down the stairs, hand in hand. “Thank you, Jem. It was wonderful. Are you sure you won’t come with me, back to the manor?”

“No, Des, but I will always be here when you call.”

Henry came down the stairs with his arms around Duke’s and Luke’s waists.

Henry said goodbye to his two new friends, and looked at Des.

“Are we going home, now, Des?”

“Yes. Home to the manor.”  After a moment, Des commanded, “Home … Henry!”

The End of the Story

“I think we’ve got a good story here,” said Chad.

“So do I. Let’s post it to tickie, and then we’ll take that dip in the ocean.” 

To be continued...

As always, thanks to A. Nony Mouse for all his help.

Another chapter will be coming sooner or later.

Posted: 07/30/10