In the following story, all of the characters are totally fictive and the setting is real. For whomever it would be illegal, immoral or prohibited for any other reason whatsoever to read a story about love between two young men is kindly requested to refrain from continuing. The free picture album inspiring this story (pdf) is available upon request at maringiustinian@gmail.com. Please remember to help Nifty stay online by sending your contributions. This being said, I hope you enjoy the tale.
THE INVENTORY by Marin Giustinian
Occitania, France, 2017
Lord Richard Cumberland was on the verge of purchasing the Chateau Saint-Sylve, a furnished, eighteen room Renaissance castle in the southern French village of Belfloure, Occitania. He had happened upon it browsing on the website of a very prestigious estate agency located in London. He was looking for a place to invest in a "petit hotel de charme' and thought that the one he found would be ideal.
Cumberland rang up the solicitor, a certain Monsieur Laurent Maurel, asking him when he could come and see the property in question. Maurel replied that His Lordship could come at his convenience.
"Very well, Maurel. I'll call you later to inform you of my arrival. Good-bye."
Cumberland then called Enzo Villiani, an interior architect and designer in Toulouse. They had already spoken together about their wish to invest in a little chateau.
"Listen, Enzo, I think I've found our little jewel. I'll mail you the link for you to take a look. I plan to fly down to Carcassonne Monday, June 26, and land around 1:30 PM. Can you meet me at the airport and drive us to the chateau?"
"Are you flying your little jet?"
"Of course."
"I'll be there, Richard."
"Fine! Now I'll confirm with the solicitor. See you next Monday. Take care and stay out of trouble!"
Then he called his eighteen year old nephew, Dorian Smith, "Hello there. How's my favourite nephew doing?"
"Uncle Richy, I'm your only nephew, and I'm doing as usual. What do you want?"
Cumberland briefly explained where he was going and why.
"We'll fly Cirrus Monday morning, visit the chateau, and have a night together in the Cité de Carcassonne. We'll be back Tuesday. Do you want to tag along?"
"Of course I do! What time do you pick me up Monday?"
"9:00"
Ever since Dorian's parents had divorced, Richard Cumberland took a real interest in his sister's son. He often invited his nephew to come along on his trips here and there. Dorian always accepted, persuaded that the bachelor playboy he had for an only uncle was totally daft, and therefore entertaining.
He and Dorian landed in Carcassonne and were met by Villiani.
"Hello there, Dorian. I see that you've grown some since the last time in Italy," lamely commented Villiani as they got into the car.
On their way to the chateau, Cumberland and Villiani talked business. Dorian daydreamed in the back seat looking at the passing countryside. He had been hit by the heat, leaving the tiny jet. Fortunately, Villiani's Lexus was air conditioned!
They pulled into the courtyard of the chateau and were greeted by Maurel. Once inside, Cumberland asked about the owner's motivations for selling.
"The last Marquis d'Estadas de Saint-Sylve never bothered to marry. He passed away leaving behind the totality of his possessions, and debts -- to two nieces, both married, living in Paris. There was a kind of family secret around the Marquis and the heirs wanted to sell everything as soon as possible and split the cash. I was given the job to handle the sale, property and belongings. So you see, it's a very simple transaction, with no strings attached," politely replied Maurel.
"I like that!" exclaimed Cumberland, "Let's take a look around."
Cumberland and Villiani were impressed by the general state of the place. The grounds had been kept, the shutters were repainted, the smaller dependencies such as the stables and the caretaker's lodge seemed to be sound.
As they were talking, Dorian soaked in the atmosphere of the chateau. There reigned a venerable haze of dust and the unmistakable scent of time lingering in the coolness of the interior. He liked it.
As Cumberland explained to Maurel that he and Villiani had the idea of a secluded place that could become a luxurious hideaway hotel for illicit lovers and openminded art lovers, Dorian interrupted, "Uncle Richy, Mr. Villiani, Mr. Maurel, if you grant me the permission, I'd like to just look around some on my own. When you're finished, give me a ring and I'll come running."
"Excellent initiative, Dorian. Have fun!" then turning to Maurel, "Don't worry. He won't damage anything! Let's continue!"
Enzo feverishly took notes as they progressed from room to room. Some of the furnishings were lovely, others, horrible. There was work to be done, but nothing extravagant. The whole place needed new electric installations inside and out. The problem of heating had to be studied. Upstairs, ensuite baths had to be installed in each of the ten bedrooms, and fresh paint was necessary everywhere. On the ground level, they decided to totally renew the kitchen. The drawing rooms and library had to be restored also with adequate furnishings and textiles. Some chandeliers could be saved but others had to be removed. All of that was Villiani's job.
The one thing Cumberland insisted on was the restoration of the library. He was upset about how dirty and disordered the hundreds of antique, leather-bound books were. They were scattered around, some on the floor, others piled on tables. What upset him the most was that there was no inventory, neither of the books nor of the rest for that matter! He had no idea of what he was actually buying in the deal!
"This must be taken care of immediately! Maurel, it's a scandal!" he exclaimed as they went into the parlour to talk business.
Meanwhile, Dorian glanced at the rooms, the attic and even the cellar of the chateau. Then in spite of the heat, he went outside to explore the large park, gardens and grounds. He checked out the pool and was disappointed seeing the water dirty and green with algae, but on the other hand, he admired the thick green grass growing in the refreshing shade. He returned to the cool of the chateau and spent a long moment browsing around in the library. He read a lot and loved old books. Their particular scent reassured him. Here, with the books in French, he understood very little of what was printed. It was frustrating when he came across something he almost understood. It must be said that his French was a charming disaster, like a lot of other things, to say the least.
His existence since the violent divorce of his parents eight years previously had been a rocky, lonely trudge. His father was involved in the film industry working as a set decorator, shuttling between Los Angeles and London. Dorian remembered little of him. There were just scant images of a man coming and going in the house, never staying more than a day or two. As the years passed, Dorian cancelled the word 'father' from his mind.
The lad could have become a psychological mess, but since he was fundamentally intelligent, he rapidly developped his defenses with a gift for wit, often bordering insolence -- which was not at all appreciated by his teachers. He hid the scars and bruises of his past behind an irresistibly charming smile.
He had no idea about what he wanted to do with his life. He was scared to death at the idea of sex. Even a simple fuck for fun was out of question. His cute juvenile looks attracted many a girl, ready to surrender themselves to his ardours, but he simply ignored them, never taking the least advantage of his evident assets. Even when he tried to motivate himself, looking at porn on the internet, he vomited.
Something deep down inside gnawed him, hindering the natural drive any young man should have at his age. He simply dismissed the fact that perhaps he refused to grow up. Since neither his mother nor his adored Uncle Richy bothered to really listen to him, he defended himself the only way he could -- all alone.
Cumberland decided to buy. He gave Maurel the power of attorney to negotiate the deal. Enzo said he would go to work on the general concept.
"By the way, I have to leave for Toulouse. Can you two find a way to get back to Carcassonne?" asked Villiani, packing his notes and phone.
"I can drive you," immediately replied Maurel.
Cumberland liked Maurel. He was appointed to supervise the cleaning of each room, the hallways, endless staircases, the attic full of junk, the servants' quarters, etc., and above all, have an exhaustive inventory made so that Villiani and Cumberland could make choices and simply know what they had.
"Maurel, I think we've seen it all. Can you drive us to the Hotel de La Cité?"
"With pleasure!"
Going to the car, Uncle Richy rang his nephew's phone. Dorian ran up, happy to learn that his uncle was swinging the deal.
They spent a fun evening in the Cité dining out, overdoing it with the local wine. The following morning at ten, Cumberland and Dorian checked out of the Hotel, called a taxi, and sped to the airport. From there, he flew his little jet back to London-Blackbushe and that was it.
In Carcassonne, Maurel made an appointment with the notary holding the deeds, hired a lady, a certain Beatrice Fraisse, from Castelnaudary, to make the inventory with photos, and put a team of house cleaners and gardeners on the job at Saint-Sylve.
A few days later, Madame Fraisse declared that she was not going to do the library. She claimed that it was a job for a qualified librarian. Maurel immediately called Lord Cumberland concerning the services of a librarian. Cumberland replied that it was absolutely mandatory.
"Maurel, find us the right man, have him come and see what can be done, and take it from there," was Cumberland's curt reply and hung up.
After investigations, Maurel learned that the University of Montpellier had a section for future librarians and experts in old editions. He called and was given several numbers of recent graduates. He chose to contact the one on the top of the list, Axel de Peyrac, from Lunel. The young fellow was glad to come, take a look, and discuss the work. They made an appointment to meet at Saint-Sylve the following day.
Axel arrived at the chateau on his motorcycle for the interview. Maurel was expecting a scrawny, pimple-faced nerd with glasses driving a second hand Renault. Axel de Peyrac was the exact opposite. He looked more like a young Roman patrician disguised in a biker's attire. Axel wore a casual linen shirt under his motorcycle jacket. Unruly curls crowned his very refined face. His firm rear and front bulge were gracefully outlined in a pair of tight elastic jeans with the slim legs tucked into a pair of sedately aristocratic riding boots.
Maurel invited Axel into the library, told him who he was and why he had called. Then he asked the usual questions. Axel gave very satisfactory answers. He eagerly spoke of his motivations saying that he grew up in a country manor house, surrounded by books and that his family was very pleased that he wanted to become either a librarian, a dealer in antique books, or even a publisher. He still hadn't decided on which.
He invited the young man to take a look around the library and then give him a yes or no concerning the job, adding, "Vous parlez anglais?"
Axel replied, "Of course I speak English. My mother's from Saint Andrews, in Scotland."
Maurel simply nodded.
After a quick inspection of the room, Axel continued in English, "Monsieur Maurel, I can do your job."
"How long do you think you'll need?"
"Judging from what I see here, it should take some time. Working alone, without an assistant, climbing the ladder all the time, cleaning up each book... Some needing repair... etc..." Axel mumbled pacing around, and then finally replied, "I don't know... at least six weeks, maybe two months."
"Can we sign for a month and take it from there? You'll be housed on the grounds and have your meals paid at the local café-restaurant. For your services, can we settle on €2500 for the first month?"
"When do I begin?"
"If you want, you can start next Monday."
"Monday's fine for me, but I can't be here before 5:00 PM. Is that too late?"
"No problem. Thank you for coming, Monsieur de Peyrac. By the way, do you have a title?"
"Baron"
"Interesting. I hope we'll get along well."
"So do I!"
Axel straddled his motorcycle and sped away.
Maurel immediately called Cumberland concerning the young biker-baron-librarian he had just hired. He insisted on the fact that the job was enormous for one single person and could take much less time with an assistant.
"I think I have a helping hand for our baron. You say his English is up to par..."
"Excellent!"
"Good... I'll ring you up later. Carry on, Maurel!"
Cumberland called Dorian.
"Hello, beautiful boy! You remember the library in Saint-Sylve. I've just hired a young librarian, a certain Baron Axel de Peyrac, who drives a Yamaha 450 roadster. He'll come and live in for at least a month at Saint-Sylve and sort out that horrible mess."
"That's great news, Uncle Richy... but why are you calling me about that?"
"Listen to me. You've just finished your high school and you love books. Our young librarian needs an assistant. He's fluent in English, just three or so years older than you and... and whatever! I want you to go! That's all! I'm paying all expenses and even some more, so don't refuse, my lazy darling lad."
"Uncle Richy, you know I can never refuse you! Will the pool be clean?"
"Of course it'll be clean!"
"Then it's okay."
In fact, Dorian's uncle was getting used to deciding for his nephew more and more. Dorian, for his part, reckoned that a month at Chateau Saint-Sylve, working with a new French mate who drives a Yamaha 450 roadster would be enjoyable. It suited him quite well having absolutely nothing else to do with himself for the summer. Cleaning up dirty old books sounded easy enough and above all, there was the private swimming pool!
July 17, 2017
Dorian's Ryanair flight from London landed at 4:20 PM. Maurel picked him up at the airport. They arrived at the chateau just a few minutes before Axel on his motorcycle.
Seeing the Yamaha, Dorian immediately stated, "Mr. Maurel, I think your library team is now complete."
"That I see!" he replied as they got out of the car.
Monsieur Maurel introduced the two young men to each other. As soon as he pulled his helmet off, Axel's extremely good looks struck Dorian. Axel too was charmed by Dorian's radiant smile.
"Pleased to meet you! That's a handsome bike you have there!" exclaimed Dorian.
"Are you a biker?"
"Not yet!" quipped back Dorian laughing.
"Gentlemen, take your bags and follow me to your quarters. They are in the former overseer's lodge," hastened Maurel.
When they entered the small house, a maid was making the beds.
"Gentlemen, here's your modest home for the next month. I hope you'll enjoy. If there's anything you need, just ask for Annie. She's in charge of this part of the property."
"Excuse me, Sir, but has the pool been cleaned and the water changed?" inquired Dorian.
"As you will see, the pool and the grounds around have been taken care of. Your uncle was very clear about that!"
"A pool?" inquired Axel.
"I'll show you!" replied Dorian.
"Gentlemen, if you don't mind, let me finish showing you around and give you your final instructions. As you see, the accommodations are rather rudimentary, but the rooms in the chateau will be undergoing work, so I thought you'd be better off here."
"Here looks fine to me," replied Axel.
Dorian nodded.
"So, as you see, we are in the main room with a fireplace, a big central table and chairs. Over there you'll find an electric kettle and toaster, a small fridge with milk and orange juice. There's a cupboard with coffee, tea, sugar, pastries, etc. Your two bedrooms are down that little hall through that door beside the fireplace. You have each a tall wardrobe, a medium sized bed and a little night table. All the windows open onto the wooded area on the far side of the park. We are fortunate this summer. No mosquitos!"
"And the bathroom?" asked Dorian.
"The bathroom and toilet are at the end of the hallway. The third door is the bath and the toilet, the forth and last one down."
"Very well."
"Is there wifi?" inquired Dorian, a bit worried.
"Not yet. It should be installed by the end of the week."
Dorian shrugged. Alex looked at his iPhone and smiled, "You can connect with me while waiting."
"As for your laundry, you can give it to Annie. Now, concerning your lunch and dinner, there's a table reserved at the only café-restaurant in the village. You can't miss it. But I remind you, Lord Cumberland pays for just the worker's menu and draught wine, nothing more."
"What's a worker's menu?"
"I'll explain," replied Axel.
"Here's my phone number, just in case, and here are your keys. The long one is to the back entrance of the chateau and the flat one is to your door here. Monsieur de Peyrac, you can park your motorcycle in the wood shed adjacent to the lodge further down. Any questions?"
"Not for now..." replied Dorian, looking around.
"Very well. I'll let you unpack and get to know each other. Oh, by the way the library has been cleaned, but no one has touched the books."
"Perfect! That's our job," assured Axel, putting his hand on Dorian's shoulder.
Dorian smiled back, suddenly feeling recognised.
Maurel left. The boys took over.
Axel's friendly attitude immediately put Dorian at ease. He left the first bedroom to Axel and took the one next to the bath. Each one went about unpacking, airing out their rooms, turning on and off the lights, testing the hot water, flushing the toilet, and all the other things one does in such circumstances.
"Dorian, I'm going to take a quick shower. Afterward, we can go for a little walk around the grounds, check out the pool you mentioned, explore the village and then dine. How does that sound?"
"Whatever you want is fine with me!"
The water in the pool was indeed crystal azure, the lawn around it was perfect and the shade delicious. They were both impressed over how secluded it was. In the village, the heat of the day still radiated from the paving and the stone walls along the streets. In front of the café, there were several locals smoking outside. They nodded as Axel and Dorian went in.
The television was blaring, other clients were having their pastis, laughing, some were already seated and eating in the glare of the neon lights. Marielle, a plump village girl, approached and asked, "Vous êtes ceux du château?"
"C'est nous!" replied Axel.
Then turning to Dorian, "She asked if we were the guys from the chateau. We've just been double checked by the local secret services," he added, laughing.
She showed them to their table.
Dorian explained that the worker's menu usually included soup, then meat and vegetables, salad, cheese and dessert with a pitcher of red wine beside a jug of water that no one ever touched. The food was different for lunch, but the quantity was the same.
Neither minded the fact that they had been set apart from the others. They were very boisterous. Conversation at the central table would have been impossible. Marielle served the meal, always giving the boys a very comely smile. They both ate, savouring every mouthful.
"Where did you learn to speak such good English, Axel? My French is an illusion, I fear."
"My mum's from Scotland. I used to spend summer holidays with my grandparents near Saint Andrews. I guess that the English are afraid of the those tiny stinging gnats that plague the Scottish countryside in the summer. They're called midges!"
"I've never heard about midges nor been in Scotland but now I understand why we English prefer this part of France! Maybe someday you can take me to Scotland..."
"Maybe someday you can go on your own!"
Dorian just blinked and then shrugged. It's strange how Dorian's very worldly behaviour seemed to contrast with his childish ways. Axel didn't know how to actually cope with that aspect of his new assistant. He simply decided to not pay attention and enjoy the handsome company.
Dorian had indulged in a glass of wine too much and was giggling as they made their way back to their lodge.
"Good night, Dorian."
"Sweet dreams, Axel. It's a pleasure knowing you."
"Thank you. Same for me."
Once in his room, Dorian thought about the departure from London, meeting Axel, the meal together, the soft night air outside his open window. London was very far away. His body had arrived and was happy to be there, however his wits were a bit lost in the transfer.
Axel's presence next door aroused a pleasant torment in his groin, something he had never felt in that way before. He stretched, pulled a sheet over him, and listening to the distant shrill of a nightbird in the woods, he softly sank into a deep dreamless sleep.
Dorian woke up in a jolt, sitting straight up in bed wondering where in the world he could be. The sun was already up. Once he came to his senses, he heard the shower running next door. Dorian dashed to the toilet, peed, pushing down on his morning wood, blessing the French with their 'WC' or toilets in a space separated from the bath. When he flushed, he heard Axel shout, "The bathroom's free!"
Dorian gathered his toiletries, showered, and came to breakfast clad just in his bathrobe. Axel was just in his boxers. He had the coffee made and was kindly waiting for Dorian to join him.
"You look better since you've rested some! Listen, Dorian, I'm sorry there's only food for a continental breakfast: orange juice, bread, butter, and jam with coffee and milk... Sorry, no bacon and eggs. Do you want me to toast the bread?"
"Thanks Axel! That's really kind of you. I think I can survive without my full English breakfast! My uncle always told me when in Rome do as the Romans... I guess it works for France too!"
"France is worse than Rome, my friend!" jested Axel, pouring the coffee and milk together in a bowl.
As they sat, dunking buttered toasts and jam, one after the other, they chatted along. Axel spoke some about their job.
Then they dressed for work and left for the chateau. The morning was cool. Dorian breathed in the fresh air, smiling. Once on the job, Axel had Dorian carrying books, three at a time, to put on the table where he was installed with his laptop. Axel listed each one in the new catalogue he had opened, and Dorian cleaned their leather bindings, inspecting them for damage before putting them back on the shelf.
"Dorian, this is the easy part of the job. When this phase is over, we'll have to move all the books around and put them in a certain order. That's going to be a lot of handling, especially on the ladder!"
"I can imagine!"
Dorian found the work much more physical than he had imagined.
"I never realised how heavy books can be, Axel!"
"They get heavier the higher you climb on the ladder! Makes good muscles, anyway!" declared Axel, flexing his biceps.
"I guess I need it..." he sighed looking at this arms, "Thank God I don't suffer from asthma with all this old dust."
"It's the dust of ancient wisdom, Dorian... and ancient bullshit too!" laughed Axel, getting back to his laptop.
Dorian was relieved when Axel said, "Don't you think it's time for a quick swim and then off to lunch?"
"That I do!"
They ran off to their rooms, pulled on their swimsuits and carried their towels to the pool.
They thoroughly enjoyed their brief swim, each one checking out the other's trim body. Dorian noticed Axel's deep tan and very skimpy speedo hiding nothing of his generous male anatomy. As for himself, he felt pale as an aspirin tablet in his baggy surfer's shorts.
Lunch was greatly appreciated and the afternoon flew by as they worked well together. Axel was patient and Dorian, eager to please. Both obviously enjoyed trying to subtly charm the other.
The following evening they took a dip before going to dine. Dorian claimed his thighs and shoulders were sore from stooping and carrying the books.
Axel suggested, "If you want, I can give you a massage to help pass the soreness. We have time enough before dinner."
"Oh please! That would be wonderful! I really need relief!"
Axel invited Dorian lay down on the towel in the shade. He sat with Dorian's head between his legs and began to massage his neck. Dorian moaned, looking up at Axel, mouth slightly agape.
"Close your eyes and try to be as heavy as possible, like a rag doll. I'll do the rest."
"I think I'm dead and in paradise! Good God, that's so..."
"Be quiet too! I must concentrate."
Dorian immediately obeyed. Axel's firm fingers kneaded the upper trapezius muscles of Dorian's back, then the nape of his neck, followed by his pectorals. Dorian surrendered, his strawberry lips slightly smiling like a teenage Buddha.
Then Axel shifted around to Dorian's side, spread sunscreen on his hairless thighs and dug into the muscles, sliding up and down from knee to crotch, inside and out. Dorian's cock began to tent his swimsuit. Axel admired, letting his arm slide over the erection, teasing it a bit. As for the rest, Dorian seemed to be totally etherised by the massage.
Axel quietly stood, took another towel, and covered Dorian. Then he stepped back, contemplating Axel's angelical face, his fair hair astray here and there, scattered on his unblemished forehead. Then he readjusted his own erection and let himself fall in the water.
The splash brought Dorian back to reality. He sat, a bit blurry eyed, stretched, and slowly stood. Axel waved, "Earth to Dorian. Do you hear me? Earth to Dorian. Over!"
"Dorian to Axel. I hear you loud and clear," he replied, staggering to the shallow end of the pool where Axel was standing.
"Ready to land? Over."
"Over and out!" mumbled Dorian, stretching his arms over his head and falling flat in the water between Axel's extended arms. Axel pulled Dorian up into a kind of hug. Dorian whispered, "That was fantastic, Axel! I can never thank you enough!"
Then standing waist deep in the water, both felt a bit awkward but beamed all the same!
"Whenever you need me, just call and I'll be there!" sang Axel, climbing out of the pool.
Dorian sighed, happy and awestruck by the sight of Axel's gleaming body, surging from the waters, dripping diamond drops in the setting sun. He felt that the tight annoying knot deep inside was unraveled under the magic touch of Axel's hands. He wanted to weep and laugh at the same time. As Axel walked off, Dorian splashed water on his face, jumped out of the pool, grabbed his towel, and shouted, "Axel, wait!"
As the days flew by, the maids were still busy cleaning everything, washing and ironing the linens, polishing the copper, cleaning the glass window panes. They scrubbed and waxed the tiles of the ground level and the endless hardwood floors on the upper levels, etc. Madame Fraisse was everywhere, counting, taking pictures, noting, and filling in the seemingly endless inventory on her iPad.
In the library, the boys had processed a little more than two hundred books. There were still about six hundred more, all on the higher shelves. Dorian seemed to be in better shape. With Axel, they joked, took turns with breakfast, took walks after dinner either alone or together.
One evening, Axel and Dorian went for a spin in the country on the Yamaha. Axel had Dorian hold on to him, hugging the space beneath his navel. Dorian was loving every exciting instant. Both were hard as hammer handles in their shorts, speeding along in the sunset, carefree and happy to be simply young together.
Their little routine was now working well. Dorian felt more and more at ease around Axel. He wanted to tell him he liked him, even more than liked him, but the little knot tightened back some, and the words never came.
Axel was more than simply kind to Dorian. He was attentive, pouring him wine at the table, asking out of the blue, "Ça va? Is everything all right?"
As it was, Axel was experiencing a new feeling with Dorian. It was a mix between 'concern' and 'care' with just a touch of lust, a permanent urge to kiss his neck, touch his hair, smell his scent as they worked, perspiring in the heat of the library.
Dorian never asked for another massage. Axel never offer to give him one. That instant had been so intense, that somehow it seemed to have frightened them both.
In the restaurant, Marielle had given up trying to interest them, but was still her jovial self. The other fellows continued to nod as they came and went, always respectfully distant... or simply indifferent.
Villiani called in but was busy with Madame Fraisse, measuring the rooms, taking more notes, and talking either to himself or with Cumberland on the phone.
Dorian spoke with his mother once and Uncle Richy twice. He learned that they planned on flying over for a weekend. Dorian wasn't really that pleased.
After nine days together, things took a radical turn. Dorian brought down from the upper shelves two large illustrated volumes of gay erotica, one dating from 1767 and the other, 1819. The engravings were more than explicit, elegantly pornographic. The oldest one depicted sex between the legendary shepherd and a young prince in a very idyllic setting similar to those painted by Watteau.
Dorian showed the richly bound volumes to Axel. He blushed as Axel opened the oldest volume to look at the frontispiece. It was an exquisite engraving of two lads involved in a mutual fellatio while cherubs cast flowers on them, flitting around in the clouds overhead.
Axel glanced at Dorian and asked, "I hope this kind of gay stuff doesn't bother you."
Pretending to take offence, Dorian laughed, "No way! I'm from London!"
Axel tried to translate the text but soon gave up saying, "It's in verse. Hard to translate, but it's really beautiful."
"Please try again."
"Dorian, listen, it's close to lunch time, and it's Sunday. Why don't we take the afternoon off and come back to take a good look at these rare volumes. I can try to translate some for you..."
"Oh please, Axel! I'd really love that!"
They walked in silence to the restaurant.
As they were finishing the main course, Axel asked, "When I asked you if gay stuff bothered you, you answered saying that you're from London... Could you explain?"
Suddenly Dorian looked a little upset, blushing.
"There's nothing to explain. In London, there are gays everywhere. Even in school there was a LGBT-Straight alliance club..."
"Were you a member?"
"No"
"So I guess you meant that you're tolerant, you know, anti-homophobic, politically correct and all that stuff. Do you have a girlfriend?"
Dorian looked out the window and replied, "Do you?"
"No, I'm gay."
Dorian nearly choked on his chips.
"And... and, do you... you know -- Do you have a boyfriend?"
"Not yet..."
Dorian just stared at Axel, bewildered, intrigued, and terribly confused.
"Do I scare you?"
"No! I mean, not really... I'm just a bit mixed up about all that. In fact, I'm more than mixed up. I'm totally muddled in my head about sex... but you don't scare me. Not at all, Axel. Not in the least. In fact, I like you a lot!" stuttered Dorian, looking back up at Axel with pleading eyes.
"I like you too -- I like you a lot. Now you know why I'm interested in the books you found."
"It's a privilege to have your insight, being gay, you have an expert's vision of the contents!" replied Dorian, halfway laughing.
"More wine?"
"Oh, Oui, Axel, Yes, it's Sunday -- and... Whatever!"
They went through the first book. Dorian above all appreciated the engravings, the delicate portraits of the young lads in their intimate playful pleasures. The light atmosphere and joyous frolics they depicted enchanted him.
The second book was in prose. It was more realistic. Even the engravings were more explicit. It was a story of a young soldier on leave in Paris who had paid a 'garçon de joie', a boy-whore, for some much needed relief. The fellow was only a few years older than the soldier and was very eager in his work with his handsome, randy client. The young soldier returned more than once. He was beginning to fall in love with the 'garçon', but couldn't find the courage to declare his flame. It began to devour him from within.
Dorian paid very close attention. Axel looked at him and asked, "And you, Dorian, did you ever want to declare your love to someone but just couldn't utter the right words?"
Dorian suddenly turned pale, inhaled a sharp breath, and uttered, "Yes, but I don't want to talk about it."
"As you like..."
Dorian rose, walked over to the window, turned and said, "Listen, Axel, I'm really enjoying reading this literature with you. You're a great translator. But, honestly, it's really too hot here. Don't you think we could go down to the pool and cool off some?"
"Of course we can! Great idea. Let me put the books back, stop by my room, and I'll be right with you."
Dorian immediately disappeared outside. The white hot sky seemed to tremble in the sun. There was no breeze, no relief. Scents of resin and hot earth lingered in the still air. Only the damp shade by the pool seemed liveable.
When Axel arrived, clad in his speedos, towel in hand, he saw Dorian lazily floating nude on his back, his perfect cock erect in the sun.
The message was clear. Axel stripped and silently eased into the water. He swam underwater up to Dorian, surfaced, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Dorian startled, then smiled as he turned, treading water.
"Dorian, am I the one to whom you couldn't..."
"Yes, you're the one, Axel!" blurted Dorian suddenly plunging under water.
Like two playful dolphins, they grabbed, splashing each other, groping crotches, dunking, and laughing.
Axel neutralised Dorian from behind. He entwined Dorian's legs with his. With one arm, he held Dorian against his chest and with the other, he seized his companion's throbbing erection.
Dorian abandoned his head on Axel's shoulder. Axel's lips sought Dorian's and they kissed. Axel squeezed even harder Dorian's perfect cock, humming his satisfaction as he felt it spew. Wee clouds of stringy semen spurted and spread, suspended in the clear azure of the tepid waters.
Breathless, they climbed out of the pool and laid down on Axel's towel in the cool grassy shade under the over-leaning boughs. Slowly turning their faces, they looked longingly at each other. Nothing was said. Dorian's face was glowing with an inner light close to bliss.
Then, like the lusty young shepherd in the antique engraving, Dorian kissed his way down Axel's chest, licking tits, navel, burying his nose in the gleaming pubic bush. Inebriated by the musky fragrance of Axel's sex, Dorian looked up with pleading eyes. Axel caressed Dorian's wet hair and gently urged him just a little bit lower.
In a kind of frenzy, Dorian sucked on Axel's swollen glans, fondling his balls, tonguing the shaft. Axel moaned. Dorian gulped the luscious drool of Axel's cock as it danced in his mouth, entering with each movement slightly nearer the back of his throat. Dorian gagged just once and then swallowed, holding Axel's cock captive in his throat. Axel lost control. He stiffened, trembling, gutturally moaning as his semen surged, quenching Dorian's ardent thirst.
Axel's cock slightly softened. Dorian lifted his head, beaming, a drop of cum glistening on his chin. Axel weakly held out his arms. Dorian slid into the tender sweaty embrace. Then suddenly, Dorian lept to his feet, grabbed Axel's arm, and pulled. Hand in hand they ran and jumped together into the inviting pool.
Floating together, Dorian whispered in Axel's ear, "Would you like to come and take a little nap with me in my bed, Axel?"
"I was about to ask you the same thing!"
For both, what had happened had to happen. It was in the natural course of events as their bonds became manifest. No words were needed. Nothing more was said as they continued in the cool of the bedroom caressing each other, sharing tender kisses, giggling some, whimpering a bit more as their lust became love. As if by instinct, they both felt the inevitable urge to lose themselves in the different depths of each other's flesh.
For the following hours and days, they lived a totally torrid love affair. No need to waste time on details. When the energy of authentic love governs the lovers, their precious fluids flow free as their souls entwine. Every penetration, be it one, be it the other, was a marvel of nature. With sprawled legs, hungry rectums, and thrusting cocks, they soared in orgasmic bliss, their stifled screams echoing throughout the moonlit night.
Their work in the library was halfway done. The rest would be fun. They talked about a future they could share, concluding that whatever they did, they would do it together.
Dorian began to dread the arrival of his mother, Doris Cumberland-Smith, with his Uncle Richy.
"Don't get upset over my mother's behaviour. She's rather special, you'll see -- but my Uncle Richy's a wonderful fellow. I hope she'll not be too obnoxious."
"Do we come out to them?"
"If the opportunity presents itself, I'm for it!"
Villiani had met Doris and Richard, as well as Madame Fraisse, at the airport and drove them to Saint-Sylve. Hearing the car arrive, Dorian and Axel met them in the courtyard. They were surprised to see Madame Fraisse in the little group.
Greetings were made. On their way inside Dorian's mother was kindly distant, as usual with her son, but seemed to have eyes only for Axel.
Cumberland hugged his nephew, exclaiming, "My darling Dorian! You've totally changed! Good God, you're stunningly handsome now!"
Doris firmly held Axel by the arm as they stopped, entering the library. Her aggressive perfume filled the space. She put her hand on Axel's chest and whispered in a very husky voice, "Dear Baron de Peyrac, please let me express my infinite gratitude to you for being such a positive influence on my son. You are quite an impressive young man, I must say. I'd really love to get to know you better."
Axel glanced at Dorian standing beside him. Dorian nodded.
"Your son's a very pleasant companion, Madame. We do get along quite well together. I must tell you that I'm homosexual and that Dorian has become, in a very short time, immensely important in my life... as I have in his."
"WHAT DO YOU INSINUATE BY THAT, de Peyrac?" shouted Doris.
The others dropped the books they were thumbing.
Dorian shouted back, "He's insinuating nothing, Mum. We're simply telling you that WE ARE IN LOVE. Am I clear?"
Doris slapped Dorian's face, and halfway spat, stuttering, "How dare you talk to me like that?"
Exasperated, Cumberland strode up, exclaiming, "So our librarians are now lovers! I think that's absolutely lovely, and you, little bitch, never touch that child again!"
"You shut-up, PIG!" screamed Doris.
With all of aristocratic arrogance, he continued, "MY nephew, is now, should I say, an almost grown-up MAN. He has the right to love whomever his heart choses. Put that into your feeble birdbrain right now, you silly hussy! It's not after all those years of neglect that you can barge in like you're doing now, simply because your son's growing up and that his charms are more effective than yours, as I gather."
Weeping with rage, she tried to compose an exit, exclaiming, "I'm not staying a minute longer!" as she ridiculously stormed out of the library.
Villiani was right behind her.
"Excuse me... I think she's a bit too upset to be left alone."
Laughing, Cumberland declared, "All of this is very bad vaudeville! She's not going far and I'm sure Villiani is dying to, how should I say -- console her!"
Madame Fraisse edged up to Cumberland.
"Dorian and Axel, let me congratulate you on your remarkable work -- and on your beautiful couple. I adore budding love affairs!"
Axel and Dorian just stood there, still a bit dismayed by the tragi-comic scene.
Cumberland continued in a very confidential tone saying, "I'm sorry to tell you that yours is not the only new love affair around here. You must know that I called Beatrice, Madame Fraisse for you, having her fly over to London to talk about the inventory, and -- well, as you can see, we have become, let's say, rather intimate."
Both Dorian and Axel had problems not laughing as Cumberland stated, "Beatrice, darling, come and give our librarian-lovers a sweet little kiss!"
She strode up, stiffly leaned over, and gave them a quick, military kiss on each of their cheeks, behaving more like a colonel in the French Foreign Legion than the maturing mistress of a British peer.
"Now isn't that sweet! Listen to me, my fair lads, we'll see you tomorrow. Have fun! Come along Bea, we must join the others!"
Cumberland left with Beatrice trotting behind.
The sudden silence seemed to hum in the empty library.
"That was quite something!" uttered Axel, still dumbfounded over the turn of events.
"I wan't expecting less," laughed Dorian, "Let's go skinny dipping. I need to wash off all those crazy vibrations!"
"I'm with you! We can work on making some good vibrations together afterwards!"
"Definitely!"
The next morning, Dorian and Axel learned that Mrs. Doris Cumberland-Smith and Monsieur Enzo Villiani had left together for Toulouse.
The lads exploded laughing.
Uncle Richy and Bea were in the library with Axel and Dorian when Maurel met up with them.
"Maurel, we've got to talk about our librarians here. They're doing a great job and they told us that they are now in love."
Maurel raised an eyebrow and nodded in their direction.
"Tell me, do you two plan to live together?" inquired Cumberland.
"Yes, we do, Uncle Richy."
"Would you like to live here and run the hotel?"
Maurel raised another eyebrow.
"No, we have other ideas. Axel and I want to create our own little publishing house for gay erotica."
"Really? There must be a market nowadays. Great idea! And what do you want to call your publishing house?"
"Editions 69"
"Quite elegant, and perfectly clear! Brilliant... And do you know where you'd like to set up your business?"
"Not yet..."
"If you want, I can have the cottage you're in now renovated and leave it for you. You can make an office in one bedroom -- since you don't need two anymore. Maurel, you can handle a thorough renovation, can't you?"
"Of course, with pleasure."
"Also, my sweet young lovebirds, while I have my webmaster concoct an elegant website for Saint-Sylve, I could have him put together an equally elegant site for Editions 69. It must have class! Nothing vulgar like the run of the mill arse-and-prick sites we usually find down that line."
Beatrice raised an eyebrow.
"Yes dear! I love good old hard porn! Even gay porn arouses me! Gives me ideas you seem to like!"
Beatrice blushed crimson.
"By the way, boys, you'll need a professional Mac for your work too. Maurel can you find them a Mac dealer?"
"Of course"
Axel was again wordless.
"And don't worry about the money. You can reimburse me on your profits over the years... if you can..." calmly stated Cumberland, opening his arms for a hug.
Dorian simply replied, falling into his uncle's embrace, "We can never refuse you, Uncle Richy!"
"Baron, give me hug too!" stated Cumberland.
"With pleasure, your Lordship!" laughed de Peyrac.
"Since you're sort a part of the family now, just call me Uncle Richy, like your lover does. Okay? Maurel, take good care of our lads here. Bea, where are we going for lunch? At your home, I hope."
"Yes, dear..."
After dinner that evening, Dorian and Axel returned to the pool. Fireflies were dancing over the water, rivalling with the twinkling stars above. Nude, silently standing enlaced in the water, they began realising that what had only been up to then carefree dreams was now an operational reality.
"Dorian, I'm still having problems grasping all that's happening to us. It's almost TOO beautiful!"
"Me too, Axel. Let's just take our time... and let it happen. Do you want to come to bed?"
"Are you sleepy?"
"Who's talking about sleep?"
The free picture album inspiring this story (pdf) is available upon request at maringiustinian@gmail.com.
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