This is a story of Gay erotic fiction. If you are underage: or you or your jurisdiction aren't prepared for reading about two adult men in sexual situations than go away, otherwise read on and enjoy. Any similarity between persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Thanks for all the comments and words of encouragement. You know, times have changed since the 1920's, don't make love without a glove. Dante-
My Chauffeur -Part II-
And that was how Kingsley became the valet to Lord Beaufort. He moved into the large double fronted townhouse that Cecil shared with his Grandfather in Mayfair. The house was easily the largest Kingsley had ever been in, but like butler, cook and housekeeper, he was an upper servant so he took his meals in the upper servants' hall and slept in a small room directly behind Cecil's with a bell pull connected to it. The hardest thing for him to get use to was that there was now a servant who cleaned his room and made up his bed and emptied his slops.
His duties were pretty broad; he cared for Cecil's clothing and leather goods including his shoes. He shaved Cecil when he didn't want to himself, and packed his cases when they traveled. His primary duty though was to care for Cecil's two automobiles. He cleaned them and performed minor service to them like changing the lubricants and keeping air in the tires. He also drove the Mercedes Grosser, which Cecil had purchased after he took up his post at Royal Surgeons. Kingsley would drive Cecil there in the early mornings for his rounds and wait with the other chauffeurs in the muse behind the hospital talking and smoking. Then he drove Cecil back into Mayfair to his surgery where he left him until he called back for him in the evening. Sometimes Cecil would have an evening engagement and he would drive him there also. On the three to four nights a week when Cecil was the covering attending he would stay at his club which was very near Royal Surgeons, on those nights Kingsley would stay with him and to the outward eye sleep in a camp bed across the door so that if the doorman knocked to bring Cecil to the hospital then Kingsley would be the one to wake Lord Beaufort. In reality he was sleeping with Cecil on those nights and they made passionate love. It was a rather unusual situation, Lord Beaufort bridged the stratum of British society and one of the ways he did that was by having Kingsley run interference with the masses.
To both men there was a line in their relationship that neither of them thought to cross. Cecil was Lord Beaufort and no matter what he might do with Kingsley that fact remained. And to Kingsley he was a servant and was duty bound to call Cecil sir and my lord. They sucked each other's cock and buggered each other equally but when they got out of the bed their roles were still lord and servant and neither questioned for a long time, what to us today, what would appear an enormous double standard.
One of the first things they did after Kingsley went to work for Cecil was take a holiday abroad. Cecil had promised himself that when he finished up he would travel on the continent and possibly America for a while before taking up his practice. This also gave Kingsley an opportunity to pick up the habits he would need in the fish bowl of the Mayfair mansion. In the following years they took many holidays and spent weekends in the country, both at Castleford, Cecil's families' country estate, and the estates of his many friends and social contacts. It was at one of these weekends at Castleford that their relationship started to change.
Cecil walked into the gunroom at Castleford and picked a cigar from the large mahogany humidor. He appreciated a good cigar after dinner; his Grandfather who was in residence also, had in times past joined him but ill health had prompted the old gentlemen to give up his loved cigars. Cecil relaxed in the heavy leather chair and watched the fragrant blue smoke waft into the yellow glow from the shaded billiard lamps that hung over the table setup for play. Cecil had never been very keen on billiards but this was where his Grandmother had decreed that smoking would occur and the situation hadn't altered in all the years since her passing. He was interrupted in his reverie by the entrance of his Grandfather, a man about his height but who carried the weight of his earldom with aplomb. He was loved by the villagers and his peers in the Lords equally. Cecil also cared a great deal for him. Cecil's mother had died when he was born so his grandmother had acted as stand in, Cecil's father had always been in the military so he'd been stationed abroad most of his life. Cecil's memories of his father were limited to leaves when he would come into their lives and try to hide his discomfort around his child, but Cecil always sensed the reserve. His Grandfather was different though, Cecil always felt loved and comfortable around his Grandfather. For his part the Earl had a gift with children and animals, and he had an especial love for his only grandchild. They were very close.
"Ah here you are my boy; we need to have a quiet conversation." The Earl said, looking briefly at the footman who hovered by the drinks cabinet. The young man bowed and backed out the door and closed it. He would stand guard to prevent another servant or one of the house guests from interrupting them. The Earl went over to the sideboard and poured out two whiskies and brought them over to Cecil who stubbed out the cigar and took a glass.
"Of course, sir, is something wrong?" Cecil asked curious, he'd noted his Grandfather acting distracted at dinner.
"Nothing unexpected, Cecil," He paused and took a drink from his glass then continued, "My boy, I've noticed that you're attending the usual social functions that would be expected of you but I've also noticed you aren't taking much interest in this year's debs. Is anything wrong? I mean, do you need to see a doctor or is there a situation that we need to discuss?" Cecil blushed to the roots of his blonde hair and his Grandfather laughed. "Ah Cecil, I might be 75 now but I was a randy 30 year old once also. I take it then that everything is in working order. Cecil I was young once and know first hand that a man has needs, I'm not concerned about where you spend your passion, but I am concerned if it is preventing you from doing your duty to your family. You need to marry, my boy and more soon than late it would appear."
Cecil had always knew this day would come, but somehow he'd hoped he would be granted a reprieve, "Poppy, isn't there time for that later?" He said using his childhood name for his Grandfather.
The Earl sighed, drained his glass and sat it on the small table between their chairs. "No Cecil, there isn't. I'm afraid I won't be around by this time next year; your colleague Sir Alfred Morrison doesn't think so any way. He tells me I have a cancer on my lung, that's inoperable. I'd have dearly loved to see a great grandchild but I'll be happy with you safely married." He looked at Cecil and could see that his face was now the same white as the starched fly wing collar of his evening dress shirt and tie. "Cecil, you needn't worry about me, I'll be glad to go join your Grandmother. Especially if I know that you are settled and our family will continue."
Cecil's throat was closed he could hardly swallow; he took a gulp of the whiskey, and said, "Oh, my lord, I'd no idea." He suddenly lost his voice and he could feel a tear sliding down his cheek, but he clamped down on his emotions, he cleared his throat and then said, "I'll do whatever I can."
"Right then," The Earl said and stood up, "I expected nothing less from you my boy, you know that I've always been proud of you, and your sense of duty. You inherited that from your father." He paused and placed a hand on Cecil's shoulder, "Good night Cecil, sleep well." Cecil barely heard the door close. His mind and emotions in turmoil, he had no hope that Sir Alfred was in error the man was the foremost diagnostician in the Empire. The man he most admired and loved was dying and all his training as a physician wouldn't prevent that. The only thing he could do was try and make his last days happy, and the only way to do that was to do something distasteful and, to his sensitivity, dishonest. Cecil stood up and walked through what had always been called the "kit" room, it was really an entry hall that was used for storage of gear, the accoutrements of sports like riding, hunting and fishing. He went out the door that lead into the stable yard at the back of the house and wandered in the cool evening air. It had rained earlier so the fields were too damp for walking and as he wandered across the courtyard, tears running down his face, it started again. He ducked into the open stable doors where a pool of light spilled out and found himself with the automobiles, when they came into common usage a portion of the carriage house and stables had been converted to their use. He stood in the door way and allowed his eyes to adjust to the dim light and watched the rain drum on the cobblestones and gave way to his tears at last. A sound behind him brought him up short and he quickly pulled out his pocket square and blew his nose noisily.
"Pardon, me sir," Said Kingsley, "I didn't mean to startle you; I hadn't seen you come in."
"Kingsley, sorry to intrude, I was caught in the rain and ducked in here." Cecil said and wiped his eyes furtively.
Kingsley wasn't fooled and walked past Cecil and closed the sliding door sealing out the night and any spying eyes from the house. He turned to Cecil and taking his chin in his hand he lifted his face to the light. Then in a voice softer than Cecil had ever heard him use he said, "What's this? So he's told you hasn't he. His lordship I mean."
Cecil raised his chin out of Kingsley's hand and said, "You knew?" and to Kingsley's nod he went on, "How did you find out, he's only just told me."
"Smith, his lordship's valet, told me at dinner this evening. I guessed you would take it hard, he's a right good man, his lordship, and cares for you a great deal, if I may say so sir." Kingsley let his hand rest on Cecil's shoulder and he squeezed it gently and in that moment he looked at Cecil not as his employer, nor as Lord Beaufort, but as his lover in pain. He let his hand drift up behind Cecil's head and gently pulled him forward and their lips met in the tenderest of kisses which he broke and then hugged Cecil to him the blond head nestling into his neck and shoulder and he could feel the tears again and the sobs that shook his taunt frame. "There now, we both saw our share of death and destruction in the War, my lord, his lordship has lived a long full life. Let that be a comfort, that he's accomplished so much and its time for him to rest." Kingsley whispered into the blonde hair as he stroked the firm back clad in wool broadcloth. His mind drifted back to Tom in that instant, his mate and lover of the war years the grief he felt then and sometimes still, made him hug Cecil even closer not wanting him to hurt but would rather hurt himself instead.
Cecil felt the strong arms and was comforted, the smell of this man always calmed him and made him relax. Even though Cecil made it a point never to tryst with Kingsley in any of his Grandfather's homes, he whispered into the strong neck, "Come to me tonight."
Later Cecil welcomed the soft knock on the dressing room door and met Kingsley at the door, still clad in his valet uniform. They kissed first tenderly then passionately as they moved across the large room to the four poster bed hung with forest green velvet and gold braid. Cecil was out of his dressing gown and silk pajamas in moments and went to work undressing Kingsley, the milky skin appeared under his hands and he soon had Kingsley's cock between his lips and was inhaling the muskiness of his coppery pubic bush. Cecil soon moved back up the strong body and then turned his well developed back to him and nearly panted out, "Stick it to me."
Kingsley moved over the slim but firm body and grasped the muscular thighs as he positioned himself, Cecil's legs were the most muscular part of his body caused by riding every day in the country and weekly in Hyde Park. Kingsley felt the initial resistance give way to his lubricated dick and felt Cecil shudder as he moaned. Kingsley gladly let Cecil bugger him but was always more turned on by doing the buggering the creamy skin, firm back and bum made him moan his pleasure into Cecil's ear, they were soon in their well practiced rhythm and all too soon Cecil heard the sigh that told him Kingsley was getting close, he clenched his sphincter tight on Kingsley's next retreat and felt the first throb of the man's orgasm and sighed his satisfaction as he thrust in. Cecil felt the warm rush of semen inside him.
Later spent and spooned together, Kingsley felt Cecil's tears again and whispered, "Here now, go ahead and have a good cry. It's a shame about your grandfather."
Cecil wiped his eyes with the palm of one hand, and whispered back, "It's worse than just that. I have to marry and soon, so he can die satisfied that the title will remain in the family."
He knew that Cecil was serious and knew that his lover was tormented. "Why of course you do, my lord. It's expected of you." Kingsley said close to tears himself.
Cecil turned in his arms and saw those tears brimming at the edges, "I'm not sure I can, it's dishonorable, I'd be lying to the poor girl." He kissed Kingsley passionately again their tongues finding each others their very breath being exchanged in their embrace. Kingsley gently but firmly disengaged himself from Cecil and looked at him.
"My lord, you will have to and deep down you know it. You have a responsibility to your Grandfather and to King and country to produce another Earl of Castleford; I won't stand in the way of that." Kingsley said and sighed.
Cecil said no more and Kingsley soon left for his own bed. Neither man slept much that night. By morning both had made a decision.
Cecil entered the dining room and found his Grandfather sitting at the head of the table finishing his coffee. Cecil sat down to his right and allowed the footman to bring him a plate loaded with toast and a rasher of bacon, an egg in a silver cup and cup of tea, the family crest on the Royal Worchester service mocked him. Cecil sipped the tea and ignored the rest, his appetite never reliable had abandoned him.
"Sleep well, Cecil?" His Grandfather inquired. He could see the boy was pale and drawn, he knew he'd delivered a shocker last night but, damn it all, he so wanted Cecil to get married and established. He himself had wed late in life, he'd been about Cecil's age, and he'd not been particularly in love with his wife when they married but, well back then it was mostly a matter of dowry and titles and a married man had options if he found little passion in his marriage bed. He had grown to love and cherish his wife and when she died some part of him had died also. He wanted that for Cecil, would have it for him.
Cecil sipped his tea and looked out the windows into the Italian garden at the lovely roses in bloom and the impressively masculine statue of a Satyr and said in a surprisingly normal tone of voice, "Grandfather, I'm afraid I've little time to court one of the debs, nor I'm afraid would I know a good match if it shook my hand, perhaps Aunt Elizabeth, Lady Sutherland could help us. I mean as long as the girl's agreeable in temperament and not unpleasant to look at." As he finished Cecil felt something die inside himself.
"Ah Cecil, you've come to your senses, and are wiser than I'd expected. Yes Elizabeth can help us, I'll write her today and perhaps we can meet with her next week so you can review her ever present list of candidates. She's wanted to arrange a match for you since you were in dresses." The Earl rose and left the room, chuckling to himself and rubbing his hands together.
Cecil was sipping his tea when the butler entered and cleared his throat, "Yes?" Cecil said distracted, the man knew that all household matters went to his Grandfather.
"Sir, Kingsley would like a word with you." The man intoned, Cecil had never liked him and planned on firing him for the thief he was when he inherited Castleford.
"Very well, tell him I'll see him in my study." Cecil replied curtly.
Cecil entered his study which was his private sanctum at Castleford, he'd been sixteen and the war had just started when his Grandparents had given him the room. It was his first taste of adulthood. He sat at the desk and tried to compose his thoughts. The soft knock sounded and he said quietly, "Come"
Kingsley entered the room dressed in his valet's uniform, dark jacket and tie, gloved hands.
"You wanted a word, Kingsley? Close the door please and come have a seat."
Kingsley closed the door quietly and sat on the edge of the chair facing the desk where Cecil sat. Cecil in response got up and came round the desk and perched on the edge his knees nearly touching Kingsley's. "Yes, sir, I did. I've had a letter from my Sister in Birmingham; she wants me to come help her and her husband run their pub, so I'm afraid I'll have to turn in my notice, sir." Kingsley fidgeted with his gloves and never met Cecil's eyes during the whole short speech.
Cecil looked at Kingsley he noted the pale drawn face the shaking hands the unfocused eyes, he knew in that moment what this had cost his lover. He'd paid the same price, but he'd come to another conclusion last night and neither were going to pay the ultimate price. He said just loud enough for Kingsley to hear, "Bill, I'm ashamed of you lying like that, after I sewed up your gut and took you in, what were you planning, to go back to carrying bricks up a scaffold and that closet you called a room?" Cecil laughed mirthlessly, "Is my care and, yes, love for you worth so little?"
"Sir, I never...I mean, I just didn't want..." he stammered looking at Cecil.
"I must marry, and so I will. She, whoever she is, shall have my title and she'll share my bed enough to get a son, but she'll never have my heart. I'm afraid that that belongs to you and always shall." Cecil said, his grey eyes soft and a hint of a smile in the corners.
to be continued.....