Disclaimer: This story concerns mainly homosexual men and their lives, relationships and sexual activities. It was inspired only by my visions and invention. This tale is entirely fictional. If there are any similarities to actual people, places or events, it is purely coincidental. If you are under 18 or if reading this story would be illegal for you in your area or if you don't like the subject matter, please leave now. Always be SAFE. Otherwise read on and I hope you enjoy.
The Dukes of Windsor Copyright 2004 by Paul H. Daventon. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author. If you are enjoying this story, write to me at dukesofwindsor@juno.com
When you write, please put "Dukes" or "Dukes of Windsor" in the Subject line so I concentrate on answering you. Thanks, Paul.
THANK YOU I'd be remiss if I didn't thank David and Allen for editing the chapters of this story. They have made the writing smoother, more correct and easier to read.. Thank you guys so much for your help and your encouragement, keeping me on the path. Love you forever. Paul Daventon
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The Dukes and Duchess of Windsor has 38 chapters and the story is finished. I will put a chapter on each week if all goes well. P.D.
========= Chapter Two =========
Matt started up his aged black Dodge Colt from Steve's driveway, immediately heading north of Columbus. He was sure that Tony and Ricco were not home, probably over east in River City, tending to their first architectural commission, otherwise he would have stopped to say 'hi'. He did stop at the University to pick up the latest accounting from the Printing Office pertaining to his book. It seemed as if it was selling well, but he hadn't seen any money as yet. He probably should get a lawyer.
As he headed toward Windsor up Route 23 through Delaware, he thought back to seeing his name on the door of his office, in gold lettering yet. He was very proud of his name whether he deserved to feel it or not. Even if he wasn't related to the old general, he liked the name.
The time passed quickly because Matt was concentrating on these upcoming classes and groups, and how he would apportion his time. He had seen his class schedule and it didn't allow for much planning time, just some office time. That usually was taken up by students coming in for advice or to beg for leniency. Although college grading had eased up over recent years, he would still try to maintain his standards as much as he could.
He drove into the city on Route 15 off Interstate 80/90, enjoying the scenery of old homes, small town businesses and the large park in the center. Windsor's population usually ran about 14,000, half town and half gown. During college vacations the town population sank to 7,000 or so. Many people in Windsor made a lot of money from the students by providing for their wants, mostly legal but sometimes not. Windsor College had quite a few dorms, some students commuted from the surrounding area and others lived in rooming houses or, if they had money, in the many apartment buildings around town. Matt had been lucky to have found his duplex, since the day he was first there that duplex became available as he sat in the realtor's waiting room. He was overjoyed to have some place to live, especially such a nice place.
Matt drove through the campus before heading to his house. The old buildings, most covered in ivy, gave the college a distinguished and old world aspect in the world of academics. He assumed that the greenery was originally beautiful spreading elms, but after their demise had been replaced with groves of maples and oaks, growing to huge boles and spectacular heights. Because of the vast numbers of trees, the lawns were not thick or manicured, yet that light green expanse fulfilled the requisite look of a Midwestern college campus.
It was Monday and Matt drove to his house, carrying back some things he and Steve hadn't brought last Saturday. The house was what used to be called a 'double', now a duplex, a white two story divided down the middle with a large porch on the front, probably build around the 20s or 30s.
He thought how much he was missing Steve, and hoped he was making out okay. Their kiss that morning gave him the strength to leave, but he wondered when they would get together, how soon. His tears started forming, but he was angry with himself and told himself 'no' and they quit.
Matt called the nearest Pizza Hut he knew of to order his supper. Some beer was left from those he had brought up Saturday, his and Steve's day of reunion and recommitment of their relationship. He held the beer he'd just opened against his forehead, but his eyes blurred a bit anyway, he felt so lonely and missed Steve so much. He was in a new home, a new city, a new job and meeting new people. Finally, he could get to know Steve after 15 years and that opened up Matt's horizons, but also frustrated him because he couldn't actually have his brother close by.
After he ate, Matt spent two hours putting everything away in closets, bureaus, chests of drawers and shelving. The furniture was decent, but he would love to get a place where he could choose his own furniture and furnishings. He was startled by a rap at the door. He'd shut the door, but hadn't known the doorbell had given up with old age.
Opening the door, Matt was surprised to see Glen Vance, one of the music instructors on the porch. "Hi, Matt, I saw your light was on and thought you're moving in. So, I wondered if you could use some help."
Matt had met Glen once at the music building the day he was interviewing around campus, not having much time to chat, but they did talk for a few minutes.
"Hi, Glen, come on in, yes, I'm straightening up the place. My brother and I brought most of it up last Saturday, but I went back with him to pick up my car and other stuff." He smiled, "I guess I was wondering how you knew where I was living, I didn't even know until last week."
Glen grinned knowingly, "Ah, Matt, the grapevine. You did not arrive unnoticed, you know."
"I guess not, but I'm glad you stopped. How about a beer?"
"Sure, but I'll be glad to work for it." He laughed, "But nothing too heavy. A weight lifter I'm not."
Matt had been looking Glen over, seeing a slender man, about 5' 9", not 'built' but still in good shape he thought. Light brown hair, straight, cut fairly short, brown eyes, brown tan from the sun he thought, not a tanning bed, would describe him in general. He was also attractive to look at but not handsome, just 'nice' looking, though with a killer smile because when he smiled, everything smiled, his mouth, eyes, cheeks, chin and his whole body actually.
"You look pretty strong to me, Glen. Let me get you a beer and we'll sit a while. I was ready to take a break anyway." He called from the kitchen, "Glen, I notice that you are teaching percussion. Was that your major at B-W?"
Glen laughed, "Hell, Matt, you must know about filling teaching requirements in a small college. I had three credit hours of percussion training in the usual basic course, but no more. Someone noticed that credit on my transcript so I was elected. Needless to say, I've been working hard on some old Haskell Harr books, plus listening to records of experts. Lot of sweat."
Handing Glen his beer, Matt laughed with Glen, "That's tough. But the music theory stuff shouldn't strain you."
"No, it doesn't, thank goodness."
Sitting on the couch, each with a beer in their hand, Matt and Glen got comfortable. Matt hoped that this would happen, that his associates would be at ease with him. Probably can't hope for all of them, but Glen is a good start. They talked about the music department, politics and staff mostly. Then Glen asked Matt about his marital status.
"No, I'm not engaged, married or anything right now, Glen. The last three years teaching and working on the Doctorate have been murder and I've not had time for any socializing. How about you?"
Glen took a swig of the beer, swallowed, then admitted, "I'm in the same spot, Matt. No prospects in sight. I was going with a girl at Baldwin-Wallace for two years. But when I got this job, she decided to go to the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia, yet, get a masters degree and stay there, so I doubt if I'll see her again. I've just been here a year, trying to get my feet on the career ground, trying to stay on track. The job is not easy, all those early classes, harmony, theory, ear training. But, it is my job and I'm glad to have it." He shook his head, "I've tried some dating, but nothing has clicked."
Matt noticed that Glen had been looking him over, too, and also observed that Glen had casually crossed his legs, he thought, can't believe I'm checking him out? He wondered. Matt thought, 'This is a very nice guy, maybe we could just be friends.'
Glen looked at his watch and stood up, "Sorry, Matt, I have to go, I have a drive to get home. My parents lived in Defiance, about 30 miles southeast of here, and when they passed on, they left me their house. Saves me a lot of money for housing, but gives me a 45 minute commute each way every day." He walked toward the door as Matt got up, "Thanks for the beer, Matt."
"You're welcome, Glen, and thanks for all the help." Since he had done nothing, both of them broke out laughing, Matt clapped him on the back as he went outside. He found out that Glen's back was well muscled, just not large. "Come back, anytime, Glen, and by the way, if you happen to imbibe too much to get home sometime or land in a snow drift, stop here. I'll put you up."
"Thanks, Matt, I may take you up on that sometime. Bye"
After Glen left, Matt sat down and tried to write a letter to his graduate advisor to bring him up to date on his job and situation at Windsor College. Matt was attempting to keep his thoughts in check, but Steve entered the scene so often that he gave up. Matt felt so alone, alone in his own home, his situation at the moment seemed so desolate.
As he reached for his phone, it startled him by chirping loudly. Sometimes he thought he should put a melody of some sort on the phone instead of the stupid chirping.
"Hello"
"Hi, brother, it's your loving old brother."
Matt just couldn't help it. At the sound of Steve's voice, he choked up, groaning into the pickup, "Oh .... Steve .... I've ..... be - be - been so lonely without you. " He wiped his tears and got his emotions under some control. "I know we were just together this morning, hon, but that was forever ago."
"Now, babe, you've got to be stronger than that. I just haven't figured out a way to come up this week, unless you have an idea."
'Well," he sniffed, "maybe I could try to commit suicide?"
Immediately Steve was angry. "Damn you, Matt, don't you even talk about that? Understand?"
Cowed and meek, "Yes, Stevie, I'm sorry. I would never do that, honest. Forgive me?"
"Yes, but, I should hope you wouldn't." He giggled, "Now dry your eyes, Matt, and we'll just talk. How has the week gone so far? That is, since I saw you maybe 12 hours ago."
Matt told him about talking to Marty whom Steve had seen last Saturday in Matt's office. He was hopeful that she would be a good friend. He thought he'd need plenty of them. Matt also told him about Glen Vance coming to help, having a beer and leaving. He laughed, "I think Steve that he might be a good friend." He hurried on, "Nothing more than that, Ok?"
Steve said "Ok, bro, that's cool."
They talked a bit more, confirmed their love with each other and said their goodbyes.
Matt felt a lot better, now that he knew his brother was thinking about him and still loving him.
That night, after Matt was almost asleep in his bed, alone, he remembered this same bed the previous night when he and Steve had so much wonderful sex, and such true loving. They had come back to the apartment and Steve took over.
Steve nodded toward the bed, "Matt, strip and lie down. I need to know you as close as I can, even better than when we were kids." While Matt lay down, Steve took his clothes off, except for his CK boxer briefs. He crawled on the bed, kneeling on either side of Matt's body. Steve's briefs were hugely distended in the front where his big cock was being forced against the material by its growth from flaccid to fully extended.
With Matt flat on his back Steve knelt low so he could kiss his brother on his red, shiny,
beautifully bowed lips, breathing in deeply Matt's breaths as they gently eased by his nose. He stroked along Matt's dark blond hair with his hand as he moved his lips from Matt's lips to each eyelid, a soft, gentle touch on them then on his eyebrows. While Steve's right hand held Matt's head, his left hand, its delicate fingers tracing along Matt's flesh, along his straight, smooth nose, feeling his rosy cheeks, high and prominent, then back to his ears. Matt's ears were flat against his head, curving delicately into an exquisite shell form.
Steve's lips moved to Matt's left ear, sucking lightly and nibbling on his ear lobe, a fatty piece of flesh, small but sensitive, which Steve continued to twiddle with his tongue tip. His left hand was tracing all the curves of Matt's right ear, lightly and just a bit ticklish to Matt. Matt couldn't keep from helping Steve so he stuck his tongue through his lips as far as he could. Steve did notice and twitched it with his own. Since Matt kept it sticking out, Steve grabbed it with his fingers, feeling the smooth-rough surface and the slickness all around. Once more Steve pulled that pointy tongue into his own mouth, swiping it along with Matt's teeth, gums and all over the inside of his cheeks with his own tongue.
Steve turned around and faced the other end toward Matt's feet. Now, feet, especially men's feet, are rarely what you could call beautiful or handsome, not normally, except for Matt's. His feet were fully fleshed but not fat, smoothly contoured and a light pink color. No blemishes, no marks, no calluses or corns, etc, etc, etc. The toes seemed finely formed with no awkward bends or crooks, no hammer toes, following straight curves to the tips. Steve would have guessed with confidence that Matt would have perfectly trimmed toenails, short but not clipped tight. His brother was always very particular about his fingernails and toenails, even as a kid, so much so that he spent a couple hours a week taking care of all twenty carefully and with precision.
Steve moved off Matt, sat on the bed by his side, then raised Matt's right leg, bending it at the knee and hip until his thigh rested on his chest. This put Matt's right foot in front of Steve. He held it in both hands, rubbing and caressing the flesh, searching out the lines on the bottom of his feet, though what story they told was beyond his ken.
Steven couldn't resist kissing Matt's feet on the bottom, one after the other, all over, as a prelude to sucking his left big toe, running his tongue over it as if it were a tiny penis in his mouth, drooling down the sides. Having bent the other leg back, he grabbed the right foot to do the same action, while he also massaged his foot, front and back.
Matt, who had never experienced that, who had never ever thought of it, was thoroughly enjoying the fondling of his feet. That delight continued as Steve continued with the other four smaller and smaller toes, and he had slid his tongue between each pair. Now that was sexy as hell to Matt. His rigid pole started to literally stream precum sliding down into his pubes, making them slick, slippery with not a little slime.
Steve had both of Matt's legs bent back against his chest and continuing his intimate inspection of Matt's body, he moved from one leg to the other and back, kissing and licking his ankles (not a particularly sexy part of a man), up to his bulging calves. Much of Matt's youth was spent running or riding his bicycle to school, to music practices, to just ride with friends so that his calves developed more completely than most any other part of his body. Since his thighs also grew in a similar fashion, Matt now had a pair of beautifully sculptured legs from ass to heels. Steve was appreciating them, though he had watched his brother's body change from a distance, yearning for him so tragically, but here he was licking and manipulating those special legs, lightly covered with ash blond hair, tasting of a faint soap flavor, a tiny bit of sweat and a hazy aroma of his manliness. When Steve reached Matt's thighs and higher, he started smelling and tasting much more of Matt's male pheromones and his reproductive fluids.
He asked Matt to hold his legs up tight to himself while he kissed farther down the legs, licking also where it was somewhat more hairy. He was within a couple inches of Matt's cleft, his buttocks and finally his asshole when he realized just where he was and where his tongue was licking. Steve also remembered that they had showered recently so he shouldn't be concerned, his brother was clean, really clean.
What could be more intimate for Steve but to push his tongue out to slide between Matt's full melons of buttocks, deeper and deeper into the chasm between, feeling the hot flesh and leaving rivers of his saliva in there. When the tip of his tongue finally touched the wrinkles of the rosebud just waiting for him, Matt screamed, "Steve, my god, you are killing me, move on, please move on. I can't take much more!" He put his hands on Steve's head, pushing it away regretfully, but necessarily.
Matt lowered his legs to the bed sheets, shaking and shivering from Steve's treatment and from his own emotions, knowing his own brother had licked his ass so well. Steve continued but ignored Matt's genitals, only licking his pubes, curling the hair with his tongue, twisting it tightly. Steve kissed and licked Matt's abdomen, covered with a very sparse coating of his almost white body hair, and where he sucked Matt's soft, perfect skin, not too hard, no hickeys wanted. With a sudden move Steve stuck his tongue inside Matt's innie, a real deep belly button, tasting a flavor, a completely different flavor, but still sexy as hell to Steve and Matt, too.
Matt leaned up trying to reach his hand to Steve's crotch, to hold his cock that had thoroughly wetted the front of his boxer briefs, making them practically transparent. Somewhat roughly, Steve knocked Matt's hand away, "Matt, this is my turn, my devotion to your body. Maybe later I'll stick my dick as far up your ass as it will go. Now, just settle and enjoy."
Matt's chest was as free of hair as possible, so smooth and perfect, so soft but with genuine muscles underneath. All this Steve felt and tasted. He was tasting more perspiration all the time because Matt was getting hotter and hotter, breathing harder and shorter, his body responding to Steve's stimulation and his own nerve sensations, sending sparks all over him, inside too. Matt had to fight to keep his hands away from Steve, to keep from touching him.
The two large nipples on Matt's pecs were a deep red, bursting with a blood color, where Steve had begun sucking them alternately, one then the other, sucking them to a hard tip sticking up from his chest. By sucking the tits a dazzling spark of erotic excitement was sent directly to the man's crotch. Meanwhile Steve's hands were tweaking the one that wasn't being sucked, his fingers twisting them fairly hard because Matt squealed once or twice, finally yelling at Steve.
"Man, you're killing me, brother, you got me so hot I may go off any minute. I'll be all right for a while if you leave my tits alone, please?" Matt was looking into Steve's deep, dark eyes, "Please let me come when you are fucking me, OK?"
Steve's next pleasure was sticking his nose into Matt's right underarm, absorbing the addictive odor of his underarm sweat, tasting it also by licking and smoothing the masculine hair lying there. Again Steve switched to the left arm, tasting and almost sucking the perspiration onto his tongue, avidly keeping his tongue and nose busy to Matt's greater pleasure.
Finally, he licked between Matt's pecs, finding just a slight colony of pale hairs, most difficult to see with the eye, hair that only the tongue could easily find. He moved his lips and tongue slowly up Matt's neck, feeling his carotid artery pulses, strong, slightly stronger than normal. By stretching his neck, Steve could finally reach Matt's lips, rubbing them back and forth with his fingers, then sticking some of his fingers right into Matt's mouth. Matt could do nothing but suck on those fingers, sliding his slippery tongue around them until they felt like a boy's small, hard penis.
By that time Steve had slid his left arm between his and Matt's body into his crotch, then through his legs and underneath to his buttocks. Steve again asked Matt to lift his legs, his knees to his shoulders, which he did, exposing his asshole to Steve's fingers. The older brother had claimed the lube tube from the night table, stuck the open end into Matt's asshole and squeezed, sending a stream of slick liquid between those ass lips, then slicked up his own cock, rigid and very stiff. Steve again squashed Matt's lips with his own while he worked his fingers, feeling around Matt's asshole and finally thrusting them inside his brother as far as his prostate, giving Matt an electric jolt to his nervous system and his crotch appendages.
"Babe, I'm coming inside now, I need you so bad, man, never, ever leave me, will you."
"Never, man, never, we're each other's to stay forever. Now fuck me, will you?"
Grabbing his frozen hard cock, frozen but deep red hot, Steve moved closer, finally getting the soft, spongy head to touch Matt's anus, greasy and all ready. His hips suddenly shoved forward sending Steve's cockhead into his brother's rectum, just past the sphincter muscles but directly into the burning fires of the colon. Both men groaned at the same time, "Ugh, ugh, nngh" with each twitch of Steve's cock or Matt's rear end, while Steve felt the wonderful sensuality of the strong, full buttocks against his cock shaft. His passion was starting to rise so high, his pulse, pressure and blood swelling throughout his body, he was afraid it was too soon, too soon. He'd better hurry.
"Matt, man, are you ready, can I come in all the way. If you are, I want to pound you to my cadence on your butt, my animal rhythm but with human desire. Ok?"
Matt groaned, "Oh, man, come on, do it. I love you but you gotta fuck me NOW!"
Steve pressed his lips on Matt's, his arms around his shoulders and his chest on his younger brother's, too. "Here I come, man, here I'm gonna deliver the main punch."
Gradually Steve forced his hips forward, his cock sliding easily into Matt's ass, splitting his anus almost to the breaking point. Matt had had cocks almost this big up his ass, but not for a while, not since he'd been with the twins. His ass did hurt, but the pleasure of his brother's cock in his butt way outweighed any discomfort.
Matt thought, 'Those cock-sucking twins had tried to stick both their cocks into his ass once. They didn't make it, but sure tried. He damn near didn't recover from that, but there was no permanent damage. He still love those blond young men, so hot and so sexy.
Suddenly Matt was brought back to the present. Steve had stuck his full length into Matt, slammed until his balls struck Matt's butt, his cockhead heading up the large intestine. Matt was a bit started, "God damn, man, did your cock get bigger since this morning. Geez, I can't believe I took the whole thing. It feels like a donkey dong up there, man."
Once Steve started, there was no going back. His plunges and thrusts became harder and more powerful, smashing into Matt's bottom then to withdraw to where only the head was inside. Steve's tongue continued to search Matt's mouth for some hidden treasure, following tracks under his tongue, around his teeth and along his cheeks, still not fulfilled.
Matt could tell at once that Steve was on final approach to his climax when he grabbed Matt's cock, pumping it in rhythm with his fucking. The speed of both increased, agitato con molto, until there was nowhere else to go but up. Up to the heights.
"God, Matty, I'm almost there. Are you with me?"
Matt could only groan, urging him on with upward thrusts of his hips.
During the most frenetic time, they both yelled, "I"m cumming, here it cums."
A few final strokes of Steve's cock in Matt's ass and Matt's cock in Steve's fist soon brought streams of cum to swamp Matt's colon, cooling off his rectum some, but not Matt's body at all. He was feverish, then boiling over as Steve's hand ripped his cum from the balls and cock drawn tightly between his legs to flood both their stomachs, cementing their bodies together, holding them to their fervent coupling, grasping and clutching at each other.
Finally, their passions were calmed, their bodies softened, their violent sexual maneuvers were appeased. Steve collapsed on Matt's heaving body but trying not to choke him.
"Steve, that was the greatest, man, the best ever for me. How about you?"
"Sure as hell better than anyone, my brother, and the best because it's you.'
Sleep took over quickly, sweat and cum made no matter.
Matt turned over, realizing that he'd cum all over the fresh sheets and now he'd have to sleep in the wet spots. "Ugh, that's gross, but all my own fault." But that had been the best sex they'd had since they got together again, actually the best sex ever ..... he still missed Steve. He searched for a dry section of sheet and then relaxed all over and dropped off.
On Tuesday Matt worked in his office on student records and schedules, collating his own classes so he would have his class lists in time. Actual classes wouldn't start until next Monday, but there was much to be done before then. Matt had to check music available for his groups in the music library, plus the rush orders he had made from Stanton's Sheet Music in Columbus as soon as he knew what he would need. It seemed that everything was in order.
However, Matt needed help now, actually slave labor. Many band members are genuinely eager to help, organize band music, part for part, filling band folders with current part sheets in time for rehearsals. Someone would be selected as a librarian with assistants to fill the roster, someone would be selected as an instrument custodian and technician also with assistants. There was no way to hurry the process, he would have to wait until next week to as for volunteers.
He actually skipped lunch, becoming aware of the time when a colleague told him to enjoy the President's reception tonight. "Uh-oh", he voiced to no one. He knew he had to rush. Reaching his house, he showered, shaved, cleaned up at supersonic speed, finally arriving at the President's residence only five minutes late.
This huge building was generally Victorian, though parts would seem to be Middle Ages with all the turrets, towers and crenelation of the battlements. It could only represent a ...... castle? So this would be ... ah .... ah .... well ..... Windsor Castle. Amazing!! Unbelievable.
On this note Matt was again reminded of the college's name and his wonder at the associated nickname, he spoke it, "The Windsor Royals". He still snickered walking on the bridge over the moat, headed for the enormous front doors, like something from a Firenze museum. He had wondered what to call a small musical group he'd been considering, some name that would go with Windsor and also indicate their style.
Inside the door Matt was welcomed by President Bishop and his wife, Annabelle, a former Radio City Rockette, now around 60 but still well-preserved, who smiled and gave a friendly, warm welcome. It seemed to Matt that the older woman was coming on to him. 'Good Luck, lady,' he thought, grinned at her and moved away to let others behind him come in. He had thought that Bishop looked like Walter Pidgeon, movie star of the 30s and 40s.
The reception was well run, organized to perfection and Matt enjoyed himself. Marty was there, working to make that perfection a fact and they were able to talk a bit. She asked Matt to go for coffee or something after this was over and he agreed and would wait until she was finished. Both of them hoped they could become friends, maybe be sounding boards for the other.
Dr. Aaron S. Bishop, the President of the College, stood up to introduce the new faculty members to the gathering. It didn't take long for him to get to Matt.
"Our new Associate Professor of music has just received his doctorate at University of Ohio. We are expecting big things from Dr. Matthew B. Ridgway." Matt stood up, nodding at everyone, "I'm very happy to be here at Windsor, this is a well respected school and I certainly hope to launch my career here. Thank you."
As Matt sat down, the gentleman sitting next to him introduced himself, "I'm Samuel Jefferson, I teach history." This world famous historian and writer described himself as 'a history teacher'. Fortunately, Matt knew exactly who he was, his modesty notwithstanding.
Matt smiled broadly, "So you are Dr. Jefferson. I've read your books and have enjoyed every one. They are marvelous."
"You have pleased me, Matt, I'm always amazed that I have real fans." He drank some coffee, "Now I'd like to ask you some questions, mainly about your name. I asked to be seated beside you a while ago."
"Sure, anything, Professor. I'm mystified "
Slowly, Dr. Jefferson looked into Matt's eyes, "Is your middle name Bunker?"
Matt nodded almost imperceptibly.
"Did you know I wrote a book about General Ridgway?"
Matt cleared his throat, took a drink of water, then turned to face the old man. "No, I didn't, I would have searched for it if I had."
"Are you related to the General, Matt, if you don't mind me asking."
"I don't mind. So few people know about the old man these days even though he didn't die until 1993 at 98. My father says his mother, Constance, told him that she was the daughter of the general and his first wife, Caroline Blount, and she had a sister, Shirley. However, the old General lost track of his daughters, on purpose or not, never had anything to do with them after he divorced his wife, Caroline. After taking a second wife whom he also divorced, he married Marjorie (called Penny) who presented him with a son. The general's world came crashing down twenty-one years later when this idolized and adored son was killed in a train accident soon after graduating from West Point. The general was never the same. He had been retired for sixteen years at that time."
Matt turned to face his questioner, "This was all told to me by my grandmother who always claimed she was Constance, the first daughter. She married, had a son who became my father, was divorced and went back to her maiden name, Ridgway. She also changed her son's name, making him a Ridgway, too. When my mother and father had me, my grandmother practically forced them to give me my present name."
"My, Matthew," the professor gushed, "if I'd know all that I'd have written a much better book."
"There is more, sir. Once, when I was about 17, my grandmother took me and my older brother to see the General at Fox Chapel, Pennsylvania, near Pittsburgh. She asked to see him, that she was his daughter, but was told that the General didn't have any daughters. And that was that. We could see him in the back yard, sitting in a lounge, didn't look anywhere near his age. I heard he was completely lucid until just before his death. My grandmother gave up trying to see him after that, but still swore she was his daughter. I wanted believe her very much, but I don't think I do, now.
"I've heard rumors, unconfirmed, that the general's son had a boy with his wife. Since the cadets were forbidden to be married before graduation, few people knew of the baby, certainly not the general."
Professor Jefferson smiled at Matt, "Don't be too sure of anything. I still have time and will spend much of it on this mystery." He patted Matt's shoulder, "My boy, I want to thank you for telling me all that. It fills in some blanks from his life that I could never discover. We'll talk more later, Ok?"
"That would be great, Professor, I'd like that a lot."
The two shook hands warmly as they parted. Matt stood around, having some more coffee while waiting for Marty to finish.
When they left the castle in Matt's little car, he decided that if she was agreeable, he would like to entertain her at his home. Marty however preferred to go to her house if he wouldn't mind. They spent that evening quietly talking over some coffee and sweet rolls, mainly getting to know each other.
"What were you and Professor Jefferson talking about? I noticed you two with your heads together, ignoring everything else around you. I've heard him lecture once - ugh, dry as dust."
Matt laughed, "I'll have to tell him, warn him he better liven up his lectures or face the Dean." He controlled his laughter, "I'm sure he's well aware of what students think, but I'm sure he's up to the job when necessary. You should hear him more than once."
"Well, tell me."
"Ok, Marty, he was asking me about my name and my alleged famous ancestor, that's all."
Marty looked puzzled, "What are you talking about. What ancestor?"
"You really don't know?"
Now Marty was annoyed, "That's why I asked, dipwad, it seemed important to you two, so I'd like to know why."
"Marty, have you never heard of General Matthew B. Ridgway, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff in the 50s, who replaced General Douglas MacArthur when he was fired by President Truman during the Korean War?"
"No!"
"Ok, ok, Marty, I believe you. Hell, no one studies history anymore. Well, I've told you pretty much who he was. He had a daughter, Constance, by his first wife, and my grandmother, Constance, insists she is that woman. That would make the general my great-grandfather. Her son, my father, was named Ridgway and I was named after the general at birth at the insistence of my grandmother. So, here I am, and honestly doubt that she was that daughter or that I'm his descendant."
"Ok, so you might be the great-grandson of a famous general, so you say, now what?"
"Professor Jefferson had written a book about him which I didn't know about. He then said he would search out my mystery." Matt sat quietly, absorbed in his own thoughts, wondering himself what the professor could learn that would make any difference.
Finally, he realized that Marty had called his name, "Matt. Hey Matt, are you with me?"
He smiled at her, feeling guilty, "Sorry, Marty, I guess I left for a while. Thanks for the coffee and dessert, I've enjoyed our conversation very much. I must get up early tomorrow so better get home to bed."
Marty also smiled as if she knew something secret between them or about him. "Thank you for bringing me home, Matt. I enjoyed it, too. I'll see you in the morning."
She opened the front door, and gently ushered Matt out, raising on her tip toes to give him a quick kiss on his cheek, "See you," as she gave him a quirky little smile.
The next day Matt met with his three band leaders, those student band members who help the director organize the primary Windsor band when starting the year. These three had come to the school a week early to be in on the early mobilization of the group. Getting a chance to have a blast was most likely another reason, no competition from other students.
"I'm very happy to meet you, Jeff, and Britt Briggs, and ... ah ... Jeff, again." He looked at the boys, "How do we distinguish between you two?"
Britt spoke up, "Well, Jeff McGruder, the tall one, is Little Jeff, and Jeff O'Brien, the short one, is Big Jeff." She giggled, "How this came about, I don't know, but that's the way of it."
"Ok, I guess I can remember that." Matt had a good idea why little Jeff might be called Big Jeff and big Jeff might be called Little Jeff.. Young people today have no discretion, no sense of propriety. It seems to be open season on the size of a man's penis.
Little Jeff spoke to Matt, "Sir, we most often call each other BJ and LJ, as do our friends and you may if that would help you keep us straight." He smiled at BJ.
Matt said he'd like that, a good shortcut.
"Dr Ridgway, we are the advance guard," BJ explained, "as it were, for the rest of the volunteers. Those people will be in next week, most all by Monday." He looked into Matt's eyes, "If that's Ok with you?"
"J's, B and L, and Britt, I'm sure you are going to be my primary assistants. Just a couple questions - are you all music majors or music ed majors?
Big Jeff replied, "We're all Music Ed majors, so we've decided that what we do for you will help us all in our future work with school bands."
"Good, that helps all of us. I think we'll work well together. Now, I hope we can get a lot accomplished this morning, particularly about auditions and assignments. I'm giving each of you one third of the enrollment sheets for band this year. I assume you'll know these people, except for the freshman, and be able to arrange auditions for next week that will coincide with their schedules." He thought a moment, "I never even thought to check, how many credits are given for band here, Little Jeff, oh ... excuse me ... LJ?"
"They get 2 credit hours each semester, fulfilling some of their liberal arts requirements. And they love it," he snickered, "it's the easiest A in the school." He seemed very pleased with himself to answer Dr. Ridgway's question so quickly and well.
Matt was not happy at all, but he wouldn't disillusion them right away that this was not going to be an 'easy' A.
After an hour of hard paper work, most of the schedules were in place and he let them go. However, Britt dawdled until the two Jeffs had left the floor.
"You know, Dr Ridgway, those guys are very good musicians, but they are so silly. You know, they tell me they're in love with each other all the time." She tittered, "I know that men can't love each other. They try to tease me all the time, but I like them anyway. I've known them since grade school. We're all from Sylvania, that's a suburb of Toledo." She gave Matt a dimpled, smiley face, with little flirty gestures with her hands and head.
"Thanks, Britt, I'm sure they are joking with you." He smiled back, but no flirting, "Thanks for coming and I'll see you tomorrow."
"Bye." Britt glided from the room on gossamer wings.
Matt thought that she must be the most innocent 21 year old woman in the state of Ohio or the dumbest. No one could be that unknowing. Well, it will be interesting to see how these three work out.
Big Jeff and Little Jeff walked back to their dorm room together, having nothing special to do. They were dressed in cargo shorts and regular T's with joggers and very short socks. LJ was about 6' 3", maybe 180 pounds but looked slender, well tanned with black hair, deep, deep black hair which shone in the sunlight. He was handsome, classically, looking somewhat Mediterranean, maybe some Greek blood. And, his eyes were as black as his hair, shiny, too. Now, BJ only reached 5' 9" carrying 150-160 pounds, slender but even in his clothes he would be seen as very muscular though not large. He was on the gymnastics team and kept himself in excellent shape. BJ had a full head of curly red hair, and in contrast, his eyes were a pale blue.
Big Jeff looked up at Little Jeff, "LJ, What kind of vibes do you get from Dr. Ridgway?"
"Well, I know he didn't like it when I said band was an easy A. You know damn well that it has never been that. Oh well, he'll find out when he checks grades."
BJ reasoned, "I guess you're right. What I meant was, what kind of man do you think he is?"
LJ looked down at BJ. "I know what you mean and no, I don't think he is gay. Yes, we know he's not married, but that doesn't mean he is queer. You are seeing queer in every man you meet."
They climbed the stairs to their second floor room, passing only an occasional custodian or summer workman. So far, the dorm had no regular students residing. BJ opened their door with his key, shutting it after LJ walked in to open the windows for some fresh air. They had only moved in that morning and knew they needed to unpack their stuff to organize the room.
Theirs was a normal male dorm room, very plain, hardly any decoration at all. Two single beds, two dressers, two desks with a good size computer on each, including two closets for their hanging stuff. Most unusual though was the appearance of their room, clean, straightened and no clothes lying around. For no other reason than that they might be considered queer by other men on the floor.
These men had known each other since the fifth grade, remaining best friends up to this, their senior year in college. Though they had joked with Britt many times, they actually did love each other, no question. They knew she was so naive and innocent that she'd never catch on to their deceptive twist.
BJ was bending over his suitcase lying on his bed when LJ came up behind him, pressing his crotch against Big Jeff's buttocks, then bending over him as he wrapped his arms around the smaller man. He licked BG's left ear while his left arm and hand slid lower to grip the shorter man's full crotch. He isn't called BJ for nothing, so firm, so fully packed.
LJ worked BJ's equipment with his long fingers, titillating his balls along with his growing prick, swelling and stretching out. Soon his other hand moved to BJ's waist where he opened his shorts snap and slid down his zipper, letting the shorts fall to his ankles. BJ' s bikini bright red briefs covered little of his ass, though most of his genitals.
"Lover, did you lock the door?" LJ asked BJ.
"Ah, I did that, babe, 'cause I knew you'd rape me. You've been staring at my ass all day. I don't mind, but it felt some weird in Dr. Ridgway's office"
"I love your butt, Big Jeff, so much, I just can't stay away from it."
LJ pulled the back of BJ's briefs just below his full, steamy butt cheeks, just far enough to shove his rock hard cock between them. He had worked his cock through his boxers and the fly of his shorts, aiming it directly at BJ's well worn hole. The two Jeffs had been screwing each other since they were 13, sucking since they were 12, jacking off since they were 11. Before that neither of them can remember just what they did, if anything.
LJ's cock was drooling precum fast and in a stream, covering his cockhead and running down his shaft where he pumped himself a bit, rubbing the lubricant all over. He was still manipulating BJ's cock and balls, working them around in the pouch, teasing them, feeling the prick grow to its full length.
With one hand on BJ's jewels and the other holding his own raging cock, LJ pressed it between BJ's butt cheeks scoring a direct hit on the bull's eye of his ass. He knew that BJ had greased himself up before they left their room in the morning and knew he'd easily slide into BJ's anal chute, through the sphincter until his pubes mashed against his butt.
BJ was groaning loudly, "Oh, man, shit that's good, man, give it to me, lover, stick it in all the way, way up my guts. I need you, man."
LJ hadn't stopped playing with BJ's cock but hadn't released it from its pouch in the bikini. Now he started slamming his body against BJ, thrusting his solid rock cock further and further into BJ's rectum, twisting to have the head punch BJ's prostate, he knew his lover especially loved that action.
"Oh, god, LJ, I'm getting close, take me out, please take me out."
But LJ wanted to keep BJ's cock inside his underwear until he came. Then he'd suck all the juicy cum out through the bright red cloth. He was getting exciting shocks from his own cock, pressed by the sphincter and sliding along the soft, warm walls of his rectum, pulling his prick almost all the way out, then slamming it back inside to put the pressure on BJ.
The full urgent feeling was rising along BJ's balls and cock, sending him the signal that he was going to shoot his cum very soon. BJ was breathing hard, in quick pants while his ass swayed back and forth along with LJ's passion cadence. His head and shoulders fell to the bed but his butt stayed high enough for LJ who had to spread his legs wide to fit in with BJ's split buns.
"Now," BJ yelled, "now, LJ, I'm cumming. Let me squirt free of my jock, lover, please."
But LJ wasn't about to do that. He was feeling the pressure of his loins, sending his load of white hot cum along its way until he yelled, "BJ, I'm here, I'm cumming, I'm soaking your guts and up into your stomach." His cock pulsed three-four times while he shot streams of his juice into BJ's rectum, flooding the hot, moist tubing to its farthest joint.
He leaned over BJ's back, still pumping his lover's huge prick until that vibrant organ began pumping a steady stream of cum all over the inside of his bikini. LJ held BJ up to keep him from falling, knowing he was tiring, exhausted, until he could lay on his bed.
Shoving BJ's suitcase to the floor, LJ helped BJ lie down on his back and followed him down, kneeling over his legs. He lowered his head until his lips were against BJ's briefs just where most of his cum had collected. He sucked and sucked, tasting his favorite flavor, his lover's hot cum, draining every bit he could from the slick material.
BJ honestly and devotedly loved LJ, but he thought that he himself got the better of the deal. LJ's cock was about five and one half inches and that was a nice size to be going inside his rectum, spreading his ass hole wider and wider as the cock was inserted. He felt a bit sore right then, he did take LJ's cock, but not without some pain along the way. Since they had started fucking when they were both pretty small dick-wise, they had grown up with each other's cock over the years.
Now, for LJ it was different. After LJ first fucked BJ, he tried to get BJ's cock into his hole, but the pain was too severe. They worked at it for months with plenty of lubrication, Crisco at first, but more sophisticated stuff later when they learned of it. At first LJ accepted his cockhead but no more, though within a few weeks, he finally took in all of BJ's cock. BJ didn't move, but the situation and position made him cum anyway, without a pumping movement. In the last three years LJ had been taking BJ's cock all the way with all the moves BJ wanted to give him. He loved every second, every movement of BJ's prick inside him.
The two Jeffs cuddled, nestled in each other's arms, legs twisted together, and kissing gently. They cherished each other and slept.
By the next Monday Matt felt he had the situation under control, at least for the moment. He had met with Steve on Saturday out of town, well out of town. Steve had worked out a plan, they could meet on Saturday in Findlay, he knew of a Super 8 Motel and got reservations by Friday. That city was just about halfway between Windsor and Columbus. They talked on the phone to decide on times.
"Steve, I'm so excited. I"ll be in Findlay about noon and will find the motel, shouldn't be too hard. Ok?"
Steve spoke quietly, "Yes, Matty, I'm excited, too. If you are there before I am, just get your room, it's under Bunker so no problem. If I see your car, I'll wait a while, go in the office and get the key to my room under Ridgway. We'll pay cash, don't forget.
By noon that Saturday Matt was in his room by noon, then twenty minutes later he heard a rap on his door. He opened his door wide so Steve could enter quickly.
Write to Paul - dukesofwindsor@juno.com
Turning The Page
Some characters in this story have been drawn from my first book, Turning The Page, Nifty/Adult Friends/August 13, 2002. It is not necessary to read that book first, but it would give you a background for The Dukes and Duchess of Windsor.