Mates

By: Will B
(© 2009 by the author)

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

While they were having at it, Justin looked at Dustin and said, “You wanna try some of that?”

“Oh, yes!” replied Dustin.

Ed and Henry had woken up by this point and they watched as the two couples enjoyed licking, tasting, sucking, and slurping their partner’s poles.

They were amazed at what they saw. They had never dreamed that two men could so enjoy each other’s bodies. They each quietly decided that when just the two of them were together, they would enjoy each other in the same way.

Chapter 6
20 June 1645

The Robinsons and the Thompsons had returned from Rawlings Manor a few days earlier. As Tom, Mary and  Edward sat at table, enjoying a midday meal, they heard the sound of a horseman arriving. Tom went to the door and saw his cousin, George Robinson, dismounting.

“Greetings, George, what brings you down from London? You look as if you’ve ridden hell-bent for leather,” Tom observed.

George staggered into the hall and practically collapsed into a chair. “It’s bad news, I’m afraid.  The King’s army…” George began to sob. “…has been defeated. Parliament has won the battle and the war.”  He couldn’t go on, he was so upset.

Tom, Mary, and Edward stared at him, shocked. Thoughts ran through their heads. ‘The King defeated!’ ‘Oh, no.’ ‘How could God allow this to happen?’

“George, calm down. Drink this ale,” Tom ordered. “Ed, go to the Robinson’s house and ask them to come here to hear the news.  On your way, tell Alf, Giles, and Ted to come.  Mary, you get the rest of the servants. That way, George will only have to tell it once to all of us.”

When all the Manor folk were gathered in the Hall, George was a little calmer and was able to tell them how the battle was lost. He told them how some of the trapped Royalist infantry began to throw down their arms and call for quarters; others tried to conduct a fighting retreat. One regiment, apparently Prince Rupert's Bluecoats, stood their ground and repulsed all attacks.

He continued his narrative. “At one stage, the King attempted to lead his Lifeguard of Horse to the rescue of his center or against Cromwell's troopers, but was prevented from doing so by the Scottish Earl of Carnwath, who seized the King’s bridle, swore at him, and said, ‘Sire, would you go upon your death?’ Seeing the King apparently swerve away from the enemy, his Lifeguard also retreated in disorder for several hundred yards.”
 

“The King would never retreat,” said John.

“No, of course he wouldn’t,” said George. “But there’s more. Fairfax's forces pursued the Royalist survivors fleeing north towards Leicester. Many Royalists were butchered when they mistakenly followed what they thought was the main road to Leicester into the churchyard in the village of Marston Trussell, and were unable to escape their pursuers. Parliament’s troops also hacked to death at least a hundred women camp-followers in the apparent belief that they were Irish, though they were probably Welsh whose language was mistaken for Irish.”

“Those filthy…,” interjected Ed.

“Oh, there’s more. Army of Parliament also captured the King's personal baggage with some letters which showed he was trying to seek support from the Irish Catholic Confederation and the Catholic nations in Europe. I’m afraid he’s lost a lot of support now,” George said.

By the time George had finished telling his story it was 3:30. Tom paced the floor, thinking. Finally he said, “John, would you go ask Reverend Poole to ring the alarm bell at 5:30. That’ll get the villagers to the church. We’ll tell them all what has happened. I think some of us should go to help the King.”

Mary started to protest, but Tom forestalled her. “My dear, I have an idea of how to decide who will go to join the King’s army. We’ll arrange it so that some men stay here and some will go. It may be that either John or I will be going, but one of us will be here, I promise you.”

The Church of Longleaf St. George was a Norman structure with thick walls and rounded arches and windows with rounded tops. It faced east, as most churches did, and in the east wall a giant stained glass window depicted ‘Christ in Glory.’ Over the West Door another window showed ‘The Annunciation.’ Various Lords of the Manor had given money to fill the windows, three on each side of the Nave, with stained glass. In the north side of the structures, windows depicted the ‘Flight into Egypt,’ ‘The Boy Jesus in the Temple,’ and  ‘The Miracle at the Wedding in Cana.’ The windows on the south side depicted ‘A Jesse Tree’ (showing Christ’s descent from Jesse and David), ‘The Crucifixion,’ and finally ‘The Empty Tomb with the Stone Rolled Away.’

On the High Altar stood a gold cross, and a pair of gold candlesticks.  There was no organ, but when the service called for the chanting of the ‘Gloria Patria,’ the “Te Deum,’ or any of the Psalms, Reverend Poole led the congregation with a strong clear tenor voice. There were no pews or benches. The congregation was accustomed to standing, and listened attentively to the minister’s sermons.

By 5:45 all of the villagers were gathered in the church. The evening sun shone through the windows on the south side, dappling the floor with a patchwork of colors. Reverend Poole offered a short prayer, and then Tom introduced his cousin, George, who told the villagers what had happened to the King’s army.

When he had finished and the hubbub had died down, Tom stood at the top of the chancel steps, and said, “I know many of you want to go to help our king, but we must have some men stay to protect the women. I propose that we draw straws, to see who goes and who stays.  Now, there are two of us, John and I. We will each draw a straw and one of us will go.’

He went on, “ I have four men-servants at the manor, Alf, Giles, and Ted and Ned. They will draw straws and two of them will go. There are 25 men of the village, and they will draw straws and 12 men will go. The others will stay here. Are there any questions or comments?”

The villagers talked among themselves, and then Joseph Tompkins, the village blacksmith stood.  At forty-four years of age, he was a brawny man with black hair that covered his arms, shoulders, and chest. Despite his great strength, he was a gentle man, and many a child had taken a broken hobbyhorse or twisted toy sword to him and he had fixed it. Now he stood and walked up to Tom and said, “Squire Robinson..., Sir, you have treated us villagers fair and square. You’ve settled our quarrels and listened to our complaints, and I think that once again you have come up with a fair way to decide who will go, and who will stay.” 

The villagers all murmured their agreement.

“Thank you, Joe,” Tom said. “I suggest we all go to our homes and have our suppers, and we’ll meet here tomorrow morning at 9:00 and draw the pieces of straw to see who goes to assist the King.”

Supper at Longleaf Manor that night was a solemn affair. After the last bit of meat and gravy had been sopped up with coarse brown bread, and the last mugs of home-brewed ale had been quaffed, Tom and George went into his study for an hour. When they returned, Tom sat in his great chair and said, “My dearest Mary and Edward, my son, I have made a will, and George is writing it so I can sign it. Edward, of course the Manor will come to you, but I am appointing your Mother as your legal guardian, and I am going to ask John Thompson to assist her. I am naming cousin George as my executor, and I have one request I will ask of you, Edward.”

“Of course, Father… only don’t talk of dying, please,” the thirteen-year-old lad said, struggling valiantly to keep the tears back.

“Edward, it’s better to be prepared with a proper will and then not need it for many years,” Tom said. “I ask that if anything happens to John Thompson, you allow his wife and son Henry to live in their house, and when Henry is old enough, I would ask you to appoint him Steward of the Manor.”

“Father, I would have done both of those things, even if you hadn’t asked.”

“I know, my boy, I know…. And here’s George with the document. Let’s get this signed and then off to bed.”

George spread the document on the table, and Tom asked Ed to go and get Giles and Alf. When the two came in, George asked if they could write their names.

“Oh, aye, Sir, I can write my name, but not much else,” said Alf.

“Yes, I can write, Master George,” was Giles’s reply.

Explaining that he wanted them to witness his signature, Tom took the quill pen in his hand, dipped it in ink, and then melted a blob of wax on the parchment, and pressed his seal into to wax. Alf and Giles then signed their names, and George sprinkled sand on the document to help it dry.

“I’ll take this to London tomorrow and deposit in the strong-box in my office,” George said. “Mary will let me know when and if I need to file it for probate in the Prerogative Court of Canterbury.”

Everyone went to bed, but sleep did not come easily to anyone that night. Tom and Mary held each other tightly, and comforted each other with their bodies as only lovers, or husbands and wives who are still in love can do. George lay in bed wondering what the future would bring. Ed lay in bed, worrying about what might happen to his father, and to Henry’s father.
 

Morning came, and at 9:00 a solemn group of people gathered in the church. Reverend Poole again opened the proceeding with prayer.

Then Tom spoke to the group. “My friends, in a few minutes we’ll draw the pieces of straw to see who goes to fight for the King. However, there are some things we all have to do before we leave. First, we have to learn where the King is, so I am asking my cousin George to send us word as soon as he has any information on the King’s whereabouts.”

There was a murmur of approval at this. “Oh, aye, he’s a good man, our Squire is,” said one villager.” Several listeners agreed with him.

“Next,” Tom went on, "we have to prepare a wagon to carry our supplies, and we have to prepare, repair, and make some weapons to fight with.”

“I have an old sword we can sharpen,” said one man.

“Good. We have two carts at the Manor, and one of them will be used for our expedition,” Tom said.

“I have several wooden poles that blacksmith Tompkins can sharpen one end to a point so we can use them as spears,” said another one.

“Aye, that I can. And I think I can find some metal to fasten to the ends to make them that more dangerous,” said the smith.

“Several of us have bows and arrows, and while they may not be much use in face to face combat with soldiers with guns, we can use them for surprise attacks,” said a burly man.

Giles, the swordsman, spoke next. “I’ll have practice with swords and quarterstaffs each morning from 10:00 to 12:00 and in then again in the afternoon from 2:00 to 4:00. We’ll show those damned ‘Roundheads’ we can fight!” This brought a chorus of cheers.

Giles turned to Reverend Poole and said “Sorry for the language, Reverend.”

“That’s all right, my son. If those Puritans are fighting against their King, they probably are damned anyway.” Reverend Poole put his hand in Giles’ hand and shook it warmly.

After some more discussion Tom spoke once more.  “I think it’s time we drew the straws.”

Thirty pieces of straw were cut, and fifteen were shortened. The first to draw were Tom and John. John drew the short straw indicating that he would go.

Then Alf, Giles, Ned and Ted drew straws. Ned and Ted were the ones who would go to fight for their King. “Aarrh! I wanted to fight those sons of …..,” but Alf remembered just in time he was in church, and he didn’t finish his sentence.

Then the twenty-five village men lined up. Tompkins, the smith, said, “Someone is needed to look after the swords and spears and make any repairs as might be needed. Squire Tom, will you allow me to go?”

Tom turned to the village men, and said, “How say you? Should we let Joe Tompkins go to keep the weapons in good repair?”

The other men thought for a minute, and then one of them said, “I reckon he’s got the right of it. We will need someone to keep our weapons in order. I say let him go. How about it, mates?”  Gradually the others said, “Sure.” “Aye, let him go.”  "That’s a good idea.”

The remaining twenty-four men draw their pieces of straw and twelve were chosen.

The whole village was in a solemn mood, and Reverend Poole spoke to his parishioners,  “We face a difficult task, my friends. I suggest we go to our homes, and take care of what we can do today. Tomorrow morning at 9:00,  I will be celebrating the Lord’s Supper, and I invite you all to come to take part. Some of you may want to talk to me quietly, so I will be in the church from 7:00 to 9:00 this evening to talk to anyone. Go now. Go in peace. God bless you all.”

Everyone left the church to think about and plan for what they had to do in the coming days. George said to Tom, “I think I will stay another night and go to church tomorrow with you, and then I will return to London.”

“George, you are certainly welcome to stay another night, and I am pleased that you will be going to church tomorrow.”

Ed and Henry spent the day helping their fathers with a myriad of tasks, but after supper, Henry said, “Ed, let’s go up to the pond.”

“Sure, Henry.”

The two boys climbed the hill, and lay down, side by side next to the water. “Fancy a dip in the water?” said Ed.

“No, no, I just wanted to be up here with you…,” Henry said. “I…just…wanted to ….talk about…..what…” Here Henry stopped talking and began to sob.

Without thinking, Ed took his friend into his arms and gave him a close hug. “I know you’re worried about your father, Henry, but I’m sure he’ll….,” Ed began to choke up, and he just held Henry closer.

Henry turned to face Edward, and through his tears he gave a little smile. “Oh, Ed, I know that whatever might….. might happen, I will have you as…. as my friend!”

Their faces drew closer to each other, and then Ed kissed Henry. Just a light ‘friend’s’ kiss at first, and then a deeper kiss, and then a passionate lover’s kiss. Their tongues began to duel with each other‘s.

Ed ran his hands over Henry’s arms and shoulders, and then he eased Henry out of his shirt, and he began kissing Henry’s chest and his nipples. Henry gave a sigh of pleasure.

Henry reached his hands towards Ed’s braies and  began to pull them down so that Ed’s lower half was bare. Henry turned around, so that his head was facing towards Ed’s legs. Henry began to kiss Ed’s lower abdomen, and to stick his tongue into Ed’s navel.

Ed pulled away for a minute and said in a husky voice, “Take off your clothes, Henry, so I can see all of your body—your wonderful body!”

The two boys held each other close and began to kiss each other in earnest. Ed’s lips traced the light dusting of hair that led from Henry’s navel to his small pubic bush. Henry licked Ed’s smooth skin.

Ed put his arm around Henry, and began to trace circles on Henry’s butt-cheeks. Henry pulled Ed’s body closer to his and ran his finger up and down Ed’s butt crack. Gradually his wandering digit came to rest on Ed’s anal opening and he began to push ever so gently on that ring. Ed moaned in delight.

Ed’s lips began to lick the four-inch rod that was Henry’s most prized possession. His tongue flicked back and forth across the slit, and Henry uttered a sound of pleasure, “Aaaaaaagggghhhhhh.”

Henry took Ed’s steel-hard pole into his mouth and began pumping it. Ed pushed his pecker into Henry’s mouth as far as it would go. Henry pushed harder and harder on Ed’s ring, until his finger was inside, stoking the sides of that love canal.

Ed flicked his tongue back and forth across Henry’s slit and then turned to lick and savor Henry’s ball sack. He took one testicle into his mouth and then the other. He licked the sensitive area of the perineum.

Both lads were bucking their bodies in lustful enjoyment. Ed pulled his penis out of Henry’s mouth and took his own mouth away from Henry’s rigid rod. “I think I’m about to come, Henry.”

“I don’t care, Ed. Shoot your man seed into my mouth. I want to taste you I want you to….”

“And I’ll taste your seed, Henry.”

Both boys continued their pleasuring each other until … Ed shot his load into Henry’s mouth and Henry exploded into Ed’s mouth.

When they had gotten over the exquisite feelings of orgasmic euphoria following their first experience of tasting each other’s man milk, they turned their bodies so that they were facing each other. They smiled at each other. “Feeling better, Henry?” Ed asked.

“Ed, I have never felt so … I can’t explain it. I just feel so….wonderful,” Henry said.

“I know. I feel…. the same way!” Ed replied.

Unknown to the two youths, their fathers had gone up on the roof of the Manor to catch the evening breeze. They had seen their sons wrapped in each other’s arms.

“I had no idea…,” Tom started to say. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t’ say anything, my friend, my very dear friend. Don’t you remember how we used to….when we were just a little older than our sons. Your father had died, and I held you in my arms and comforted you, and then we ….”

“Yes, John, I do remember, and I am so glad we have stayed friends all these years,” Tom said.

To be continued...

Author’s Note: Details of the Battle of Naseby and other historical events are from wikipedia.org. Until 1858, wills and other probate matters were administered by the religious authorities.

Encourager’s Comment:  I hope that this war ends soon before we lose any of our friends.  What would Ed and Hank do if they knew their fathers knew what they were doing?  Only the author knows.  E

Posted: 02/20/09