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 V-
The ship rolled to port deeply then righted itself and the wind could be heard outside the glass of the porthole. Cecil felt Kingsley's weight shift against him and then back in response to the storm. They were due in Civitavecchia in the morning and he hoped the storm wouldn't prevent their making port. He tightened his arm around Bill's chest and felt Bill snuggle back into him.
In the years since Beatrice's death Cecil had returned to work with a vengeance and was considered one of the top Surgeons in the Empire. He seldom appeared in society and then only at the insistence of Lady Sutherland, his Aunt Elizabeth. His life now revolved around his practice and Kingsley. Their relationship had returned to what it was and more. They still led a double life and Cecil found it increasingly difficult. Cecil hated having to treat Bill like the other servants during the day. Bill on the other hand never seemed to care, and always meticulously ensured that none of his actions created gossip. He'd arranged this trip to be alone with Bill. He lay awake and watched the stateroom slowly lighten with the gray dawn and listened to the storm blow itself out.
They started in Italy and then took ship to Greece and later Istanbul. In Rome Cecil had taken Bill to a tailor and had a suit made for him. Bill had protested that he didn't need a suit but Cecil wouldn't be put off. When the suit was ready Cecil had asked Bill to put it on and he had taken him out in the afternoon sun and they had walked through the dusty streets. Cecil and Bill didn't say anything they simply walked and enjoyed being together. Cecil had turned them into a restaurant in one of Rome's best hotels and the Maitre'd seated them at a table near the window.
"My Lord I can't sit here what will people say?" Bill whispered desperate to get away from the situation. He was mortified that Cecil would parade him in society, even foreign society.
"Well we shall soon find out," Cecil replied, "Here comes Porky Harrington, a chap from school."
Bill turned, startled by the short plump gentleman who was walking towards their table.
Cecil stood, Bill followed suit and before he could bow in greeting, Cecil took his elbow and said, "Good God Bill its old Porky Harrington, a chap I knew at school." Cecil took the man's hand and they exchanged pleasantries. Cecil then turned to Bill and said to Porky, "Old thing I don't think you've met Bill, my cousin from Canada. His mother was my mother's sister. She ran off to Canada and married some fellow from Toronto." Porky extended his hand to Bill and he quickly realized that to Porky he was just an acquaintance of the Earl of Castleford.
After that they always presented themselves to society as a couple of friends out on the town in Europe. Of course they were careful to avoid people that would've seen Bill in London, but even in that situation they learned that society had so molded the upper class that they automatically believed Cecil's story and didn't recognize Bill at all. Bill gradually got use to addressing his lover as Cecil, and slowly became comfortable in the charade.
In Istanbul they went out one evening for a breath of air. Cecil had been contemplating what he wanted from life. He was 40 years old and was no longer satisfied with the status quo of his life. He had been slowly thinking out a plan for change, which would allow this relationship with Bill to continue everyday as they were living it on this trip. Everywhere they went there was talk of another war, and Cecil worried that life would change inevitably as it did after the last war, 25 years ago. They were strolling down a mostly deserted side street, trying to find a good view of the Bosporus, when they wandered into a small cafי. The music had drawn them in its rhythms and the clapping of the patrons had created an energy they could feel from the street. Upon entering they sat and a breathtakingly handsome young waiter brought coffee. They listened to the music and watched it work its magic on the audience. The cafי was reasonably clean for that part of the world and the audience was a spattering of locals and a few Europeans. Bill noticed that they were all men and pointed it out to Cecil who was lost in the rapid music.
"Criky, Cecil they're all blokes here." He whispered. Soon enough the young waiter that had served them was striped to the waist and dancing to the wild rushing melodies. The patrons were clapping and the waiter undulated erotically to the music. His dark hair and flashing brown eyes shone in the light spilling from the lamps suspended from the ceiling.
Cecil was aroused by the performance and soon enough the music ended and the waiter collapsed onto the pillows beside a large Arab who stroked his bare arm and smiled. "Bloody hell, Bill I've never seen anything so blatantly erotic." Cecil said and clasped Bills hand under the table. They watched transfixed as the waiter seductively kissed the older man full on the lips and then stood and pulled the man after him. Cecil realized they had wandered into one of the fabled houses of kצחek or catamites that had drawn Lord Byron in the last century and many others over the course of time. He had assumed they had disappeared with the Ottomans. He was fascinated with the concept that this society could accept homosexual love instead of papering it over as his own did.
"They're Catamites, Bill." Cecil whispered.
"Rent boys?" Bill Laughed, "Well they're better than any you could find in London."
He and Bill sat and watched several of the other boys dance. All were extremely talented and much appreciated by the men watching, both Arab and European. Each disappeared after their dance with a patron into the dark depths of the cafי only to reappear a short time later.
Their waiter soon returned from his tryst and brought them small glasses of plum brandy. He looked from Cecil to Bill and a slow smile curled his lips. He asked them a question in Turkish. Cecil told him first in English then in French that they didn't speak Turkish.
The boy, for he couldn't have been more than 14, then asked in broken German, "You und he are together?"
Cecil, whose German was adequate, replied, "Yes we're together."
"I knew this," He said, "How long have you loved?" The boy asked.
Cecil blushed; Bill bent close to his ear and asked, "What's he saying?"
"He just asked how long you and I have been in love." Cecil said.
Bill slid his hand onto the top of Cecil's thigh and said into his ear, "Tell him, forever."
Cecil smiled and the boy giggled and asked, "What your handsome man says?"
Cecil laughed at the boy's poor grammar and said, "He told me to tell you forever."
The boy laughed, "You und he very lucky, I was to ask if you would like to share what love I, Tofi, could give."
Cecil translated for Bill and Bill said, "My guess is Tofi here could teach us both a few things."
Cecil felt his lust gnawing his stomach and smiled at Bill. Then turned to Tofi and said, "I think we'd love to."
The boy's sloe smile was back and he said, "I dance for you first." He signaled the group of players and said something in rapid Turkish. The music started slow and undulating and the waiter slowly started rocking his hips in a slow circle. He would clap his hands in counter point to the flute. Bill sighed next to him and his hand slowly traveled up and down Cecil's thigh. Cecil was lost in the music again and the vision of Tofi's gold skin and sleek black hair. He noticed that the boy had no hair under his arms or on his tight belly. The music became more rapid and the boy's movements became fluid and he twirled and would thrust his hips at Cecil. Soon he moved to Cecil and picked up his hand and pulled him up to the floor. Cecil, lost in the rhythm of the music was moving with the boy who would slide his hands over Cecil's chest as he twirled around him. As the music ended the boy stood on tiptoe and his soft lips met Cecil's.
"Fuckin Christ!" Bill hissed behind them.
The boy led the pair behind the makeshift bar and through some curtains and up a staircase to the gallery that surrounded the cafי. He selected an alcove and pulled the curtains closed behind them as they entered.
The alcove was furnished with piles of soft pillows and a dim light filtered through the grilled window. The boy slowly went from Cecil to Bill kissing them each softly and pulling them close as he reclined on the pillows. Bill sat on one side while Cecil sat on the other. Bill bent and Cecil watched as his lover slowly kissed the boy on the lips and slowly moved to his neck. Cecil bent and kissed his lips and they both started removing the boy's clothes. Slowly and seductively the boy's thin body was revealed in all its glory. When his trousers came down Cecil could see the boy's small circumcised cock was hard and glistened with precum. He had only a wisp of black hair there. Cecil watched as Bill's red hair slowly blocked his view taking the boy into his mouth. The waiter sighed then moaned. Cecil slowly kissed him and let his tongue explore his mouth. Soon they were nude as well and the boy soon revealed his many skills. Cecil had never been sucked with such slow, pressing need. He managed to suck both of them at the same time while Cecil and Bill kissed hungrily. The encounter ended with the boy between them sucking Bill's uncircumcised cock and Cecil fucking the boy's arse. Just as they reached their climax Bill and Cecil kissed above the moaning boy who sprayed his stomach with his release. They all collapsed on the pillows and let the glow wash over them. The boy soon stirred and poured them more plum brandy from a cruet sitting on a small side table.
Bill leaned into Cecil and whispered, "I knew he'd teach us a few things." Then he kissed Cecil tenderly. They drank their brandy and the boy helped them dress. When they were presentable once again Cecil gave the boy a hundred pound note and Bill and he left by a side door the boy showed them.
The boy quickly kissed them each and said, "You come again soon, I liked much."
They didn't return, to the kצחek, they took ship the next night bound for London. Their second night at sea they had dined together at a table that included the Duke of Norfolk and his wife. Bill, having served at table for Cecil, was able to act reasonably comfortable when Cecil introduced him. After dinner Cecil and Bill went into the lounge and sat late into the night talking. Lost in conversation they slowly became aware that the lounge was nearly empty except for a table of card players. Bill asked if Cecil wanted to take a turn on deck before turning in for the night and Cecil agreed picking two cigars from the humidor on the bar. They wandered to a quiet corner of the promenade and leaned on the rail watching the moon reflections dancing on the sea. Cecil struck a match and held it first to his and then Bill's cigar and they leaned on the rail and smoked in silence for awhile.
Cecil's plan had materialized while they were in Istanbul, he never wanted to hear Bill call him "My Lord" again.
Bill said, "Cecil, this trip has been the most wonderful thing that's ever happened to me. Thank you."
Cecil took a deep puff from his cigar then said into the night, "Bill I don't ever want us to return to the way it was before this trip."
Bill was mildly surprised, in his heart of heart's he didn't want it either but to his limited experience he couldn't see any other course. "But My Lord, we have no choice." He sighed, "I can't be your cousin Bill back home."
Cecil, let his hand cover Bill's at the rail, "Bill, I want to leave London, maybe for good. We can go to Canada or somewhere out in the Empire. I'm a very wealthy man, we could find a life together out there somewhere." He said pointing to the horizon.
"Cecil, I don't think there is anywhere that would accept what we have openly. I've not heard of it if there is. There really isn't a choice. In a couple of days I'll be your servant, as I've always been. This is all just a child's game that's been fun. We can't change the way life is." Bill sighed. "If we went out there say and I became your cousin Bill or your friend Bill or whatever, we'd have to concoct a story to justify living together. I grew up in a village where everyone knew everyone else. If a stranger moved in we'd of known all about them in a tuppence. What better story could we have than the truth? I'm you servant; I don't mind being your servant, love."
Cecil really hadn't thought about it in that way. To his experience, as lord of the manor, his actions weren't questioned by his inferiors and his equals never mentioned it. They might very well gossip behind his back but he had too much money and to impressive a title to be shunned or cast out. He saw the beauty of what they had and the absolute conformity their situation provided society. He also thought of the crowd of servants that inhabited his houses. The Mayfair mansion had no less than 20 on staff and Castleford had more like 100. They couldn't possibly live even at home like he would like.
"I know one thing Bill, if we don't leave London then I'm going to close the house in Mayfair, when I come home in the evenings I want it to be like it is here, no formality just me and you before the fire with a good drink and a couple or cigars and a long slow cuddle." Cecil said.
Bill let his fingers slip up Cecil's wrist and leaned into him so his lips were just at his ear and he whispered, "I'd like that mate."
Later in the cabin, their lovemaking was slow and familiar but turned urgent as they kissed and licked and felt each other. Soon they were quiet in each other's arms, spent and at peace. Cecil's mind again turned to the changes needed in their life to satisfy his desire to be with Bill.
1940
Cecil turned the lights out in his study when he heard Bill's call from the dinning room. He checked to make sure all was ship shape the black out curtains were in place and he turned the damper down on the coal hearth. He descended the stairs of the modest row house in Montrose Circle to enjoy Mrs. McNulty's dinner. He and Bill had moved into the small house after their return from the Middle East. The Mayfair Mansion had been sold. The years since that trip had flown by to Cecil, Bill still acted as his valet, but in reality they lived together as a couple. Mrs. McNulty came in during the day along with a maid to take care of what Bill couldn't. Cecil still had his chair at Royal Surgeons and a practice in Mayfair, but he had cut the practice back drastically and really focused on his work as a mentor for young physicians.
He entered the dinning room just as Bill was sitting down the last covered dish from the kitchen. The dim light of the single lamp made ghostly shadows in the high ceiling room. The blitz was three months old* and Cecil knew life in Britain would never be the same. He and Bill took refuge in the cellar when the sirens went off then with the all clear, Cecil would head to Royal Surgeons to attend to incoming casualties and Bill would go to the neighborhood defense squad and help patrol the neighborhoods for the injured and displaced. The old Mayfair neighborhood had been flattened and his current house had only been spared by a few doors. Rationing only added to the stress of life in London. They occasionally still went up to Castleford; but now, since most of the staff were either working in wartime industries or in uniform, Cecil lived in only a small set of rooms in the shut up country house.
Bill ladled a portion of nameless meatless soup onto his plate and Cecil smiled at his lover. "Looks like victory stew again, Bill." Cecil said and laughed.
"Criky," Bill said, "I could've done with something more filling." He dipped a piece of bread into the soup and ate dejectedly.
Cecil reached across the white table cloth and took Bill's hand, "Cheer up love, when this bloody war's over I'll buy us both the biggest steak the Ritz can cook up."
Bill smiled at Cecil and squeezed his hand in return, "Sorry mate, its unpatriotic of me I know."
Cecil laughed. When they'd finished they went through to the lounge and Bill brought coffee, or the current excuse for it. They sat in front of the small gas ring and held hands across the space between their chairs.
"You know Bill if we'd follow my original intentions we'd be in India or Canada right now. Sorry we didn't?" Cecil asked.
Bill laughed, "We'd be eating better I'm sure. But seriously Cecil, I'm glad we moved here. These last few years have been the best in my life. I think about what I had before that fight and that handsome bloke leaned over me poking and prodding in my bits and pieces." He paused and Cecil saw the wistful way Bill looked at the dancing blue flames, "All I had was back breaking work and the aching memories of Tom. You've spared me that lot, mate and given me more love than I ever dreamed possible. I wonder when the bill will appear for all this happiness sometimes."
Cecil became lost in thought looking back over the years to that day in casualty when the auburn haired workie had been brought in. "Ah Bill, you've paid me any amount owed. Before you came along I had every advantage, and yet I was painfully alone, a father that didn't want me, a mother who died. Grandparents who loved me but were still always one step removed from me. I brought you into my service and used you then I nearly abandoned you to marry. Then when I failed miserably and was reprieved by death you were still there waiting. I remember how humbling it was to realize that I, the Earl of Castleford, an arrogant and perfect symbol of my class, could be loved by a man of more noble feelings than I'd ever experienced. It was in that moment I realized that I could never have you as my servant again. I feel the same; these last four years have been the most satisfying of my life."
In the distance they could hear the tell tale whistle and feel the concussions as the local siren went.
"Fuckin jerries, you'd think they could give it a rest." Bill said and stood. He reached a hand to Cecil and stood him up then kissed him lightly, "I guess it's to the cellar mate."
Bill picked up the coffee tray as Cecil turned off the gas to the ring, they picked their way down the narrow steps under the main staircase into the darkness of the cellar. Originally used for storage and as servants quarters, the cellar wasn't all that bad, some of their neighbors had it worse, or had to go to the underground. In the farthest reaches was the true cellar which had stone walls right the way around, it was damp but it was the most secure. Bill sat the tray down on the small table and lit a candle.
"Cripes I forgot to turn out the light in the kitchen." Bill said starting for the door.
"Leave it Bill come sit and we'll have another cup of coffee." Cecil said sitting on the low bed that they had setup in here.
With coffee in hand Bill sat beside Cecil and pulled the duvet up over them to ward off the damp. Cecil's arm laid gentle across Bill's shoulders.
"You know love, when this mess is cleaned up and the bloody German's have been put back in their place I wouldn't mind taking another long trip. Think Tofi is still in Istanbul?" Cecil said and smiled. They often wondered what ever happened to the boy, both realized that most probably he had been used until there wasn't anything left by the owner of the cafי but it amused them to make up a life for him.
"What a bit of alright that would be. Old Tofi is probably happily married to a fat wife with 10 kids running around a little warren of a house. When he dreams at night though, my money's on his remembering a pair of Englishmen who walked into his life one night." Bill laughed quietly.
Cecil could hear the concussions getting nearer maybe in the next street. He tightened his arm around Bill and laid his head on his shoulder.
Brief article in the Daily Mail:
The air raid last evening claimed the life of one of the preeminent surgeons in the Empire Cecil Beaufort, Seventeenth Earl of Castleford was killed when a bomb hit his home in Montrose Circle. An unknown manservant also died in the explosion and resulting fire.
- The Blitz inflicted around 43,000 deaths and destroyed over a million houses, but failed to achieve the Germans' strategic objectives of knocking Britain out of the war or rendering it unable to resist an invasion.