"Lord James and the Young Highwayman, Part Three" by Jay Roberts Gay Historical
The next morning, just as the sun was beginning to light the room, the noble boy came slowly to wakefulness. He immediately became aware of the unfamiliarity of having a bed partner, but as he stretched luxuriously he remembered the overwhelmingly wonderful feeling he had experienced the night before. This yielding to another's hand was in itself so exciting. He was tried of attempting to be like an apprentice landowner. He missed the careful days of his life with toys, and aimless riding in the woods.
He looked at Simon and memorized the tangled, glossy black hair of the lad, the was a morning stubble of beard and James squinted his eyes to imagine how Simon would like if he allowed it to grow out and develop fully. He'd easily resemble the lords in the portraits on the stairs.
Just then Simon turned and James felt a rod against his young hip. He knew that Simon was having that morning phenomenon that James knew so well. It would continue to press its owner until one rubbed it steadily to produce a superior throb and peace at last.
James decided it was his duty to aid the sleeping boy in that endeavor. After all Simon had obliged James last night. He lifted the covers and gasped at the full disclosure of Simon's body covered only in ripped drawers. Simon had wide thick shoulders and his breasts were heavy with muscle. Each brown nipple was drawn to the side by this development.
Casting his eyes down he enjoyed the sight of the tight belly ridged with rows of muscles and decorated with a line of soft dark hair that disappeared below the hem of the under drawers. But the worn fabric was stressed by the bulge of his prick. The prominence seemed to move or rather jump with the boy's pulse.
James put his hand on that area, feeling the heat it gave. It moved and reached upward against his soft hand. Simon moaned in his sleep and squirmed so that his thin covering moved downward exposing more of his faintly fuzzy belly. James took this opportunity to stroke that warm belly and this produced more moans.
Then James made a decision. He could not stop himself from seeking an acquaintanceship with James secret possession his manly prick. James ducked under the covers and now was in the deep, dark tent inside, his face not more than six inches from his prize. Here in the small space the differences between street boy and aristocratic boy disappeared and the need for a phallus triumphed.
James avidly reached his hands and grasped the worn material covering and ripped open the area where in lay his treasure. It was a potent shaft that lay hard and thick against the muscular belly. With a primitive cry James swooped down and opened his lips in a classic position of the cock sucker, as if he was born with that urge and skill. He lay his soft cheek against Simon's flat stomach and allowed the flesh to enter his not lips.
Above him, muffled by the heavy comforter he heard a cry of pleasure from Simon, but he ignored the existence of a real person as he attended to the appendage lying just inside his lips. He moved his head forward and his lips now were enclosing about a third of the phallus. He suckled. Simon cried out his passion. James encouraged moved further and allowed the warm, smooth rod to enter so deep into his steaming craw that the head almost touched the back of his throat. Then, as if born to the task, he began a licking and swallowing so that Simon's eyes closed in surrender to the thought of this young lord servicing him. He thought, 'Soon as shall spew, I cannot help it, he is so gifted and then I shall spray his upper class throat with my poor boy's offering...and...and he will love every trop.'
But soon Simon's ability to think began to disappear as he suck deeper and deeper into pure sensation. His hips began a slow rise and fall and he grasped the sheets with an effort to keep from sliding off into oblivion. He lose the sense of his superior sexual role and became a willing slave to those sucking lips. He loved them. Then with a hoarse cry he reached his pinnacle. He grabbed James' ears with flat of his calloused hands and held him as he fucked himself into his emission.
He cared not for class distinctions. Seeking release is always selfish. James however marveled at the enticing taste of Simon's spunk and as it entered to overwhelm his taste buds he felt his own cock begin to shoot his lordly milk.
James became aware of his surroundings by the strong pull on his shoulder administered by Simon as he brought the boy up to lie beside him in the bed. "What a great cock sucker you are young chap. You do it far more sexily than any I have ever encountered before. Of course, you paid me not, but just the luxury of my life now makes up for all.' Then out loud he insolently said, with a grin and a twinkle in his eyes, "Milord, I usually get a few coins for offering myself."
James kissed him on the cheek. "There's your reward."
Just then a loud, continuous peeling of bells, in the west tower of the estate, occurred drowning out their conversation. When it finally stopped, Simon asked what it was for. James, his face drawn into a tearful mask, answered, "It signals that the Duke has died. It was a very long illness and he lived much beyond expectations."
"Does that mean you are now a Duke?"
James smiled in spite of his sadness. "No. Let me explain. His title was a life title granted for his leading our armies in the last campaign. It ends with his death."
"Then you are not going to inherit a title."
"I shall be the Lord of the Manor, title enough."
End Part Three