Dukes of Windsor

THE DUKES AND DUCHESS OF WINDSOR

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 story email. 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 Nine =========

The Bryan Howard Foundation Fund had been established at Windsor College, legally, in accordance with the College bylaws. Matt was thrilled because the first donation had been received from Brian Whitlow who was credited with a $5000 deposit into the Fund, for which he would have a tax deduction of the whole amount.

Even better, his negotiations with the River City Branch of U of Ohio were complete. The Dukes and Duchess of Windsor would be playing in the theater on campus, a large house considering the size of the branch. Obviously, someone in the planning of the branch included usage of the theater by cultural organizations of the metropolitan area. Matt had about four weeks until the performance on December 6, and they would need every possible minute, since Matt had arranged four more selections, two of them with Christmas themes. He was particularly proud of a Frescobaldi Capriccio (about 350 years old) that smoothly segued into a rousing, program-closing version of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas."

On the home front Matt had agreed that Hardy should move from his rooming house to Matt's home. He was tired of sneaking around all the time. They both were. They sent a message through the student grapevine that because Hardy's former roommate was in jail and wouldn't be back, Hardy couldn't afford the room by himself. Hardy had never discussed his home life, or much of anything about his pre-college life and no one knew of his family. Smart man!

They both worried about the situation, afraid that their relationship would be misunderstood, or rather, understood too well. Matt worried that if his sexual orientation were widely known, he might have no chance for Department Head. However, they were in love with each other, deep, abiding love, and their friendship was developing rapidly. Their biggest problem was to keep their hands off each other in public.

Their time alone in their house was quality loving. Hardy was learning to accept Matt's huge cock in his ass, still a very tight dovetail it was for his butt.

"Oh, Matty, it feels so good." Matt watched Hardy's face as his cock slid slowly through his lover's sphincter, squeezing through and into Hardy's hot, juicy channel. Matt knew that his cock was still hurting Hardy, stretching his anus all out of proportion, drawing perspiration on Hardy's forehead and upper lip. But Matt also knew from his own experience, having Steve fuck him, that the pain was almost incidental, a minor hurt, immaterial to the huge joy and erotic stimulus of having part of his lover's body slide into him, the most important part. Steve and Matt had twin cocks, soft or hard, floppy or rigid, asleep or excited, in which both delighted and used for their partner's enjoyment.

"Hardy," he kissed him, "you are mine, as I am yours. My cock is where it belongs, within you and up inside your hot, horny body."

Hardy reached out to grab at Matt's buttocks, clutching those twin globes of pure, solid, ideal sensuality, pulling them toward him to force Matt's cock further into his sucking hole. His whole body was eating up the electric shocks, shaking and shivering, jerking his body, humping his pelvis to force Matt's cock in harder, pounding against his butt. His own cock was rocklike, standing up tall out of his dark, curly pubes, deep red and pulsing with his heartbeat.

"Oh, god, Matt, I'm cumming," he yelled, panting and gasping, his whole body tightening in taut, rigid muscles which vibrated and quivered as his passions flooded his bloodstream, then exciting his heart until his semen spurted in outbursts of hot fluid to land and puddle on his chest and crotch. He hadn't even touched his cock, but Matt's cock had stirred it up from the inside.

Meantime, Matt's body was reacting in the same manner, except that his cock transmitted the exotic sensations of the interior of Hardy's body, the soft, smooth sides of his rectum, sliding in along the folds and juices to his own escalating temperatures and rushing of sexual juices in his balls and prostate, finally sending his own flood of fluids through his urethra and out his cockhead to mix with Hardy's own fluids. Matt fell on top of Hardy, clutching him vigorously and with passionate throes in waves of sexual potency.

They kissed gently and tenderly, speaking words of love and promises of faithfulness and devotion. Matt's cock slowly deflated, shrank and oozed reluctantly from Hardy's asshole, flopping to hang wetly against Hardy's scrotum. With a surge of energy, Hardy pushed Matt off of him and onto his back where he leaned over and sucked up Matt's subdued cock into his mouth, licking the languid organ of all its fluids, its tangs and scented emanations.

He turned his eyes up to Matt's, smiled and said, "Yum, yum, Mattie, you are so tasty."

Matt returned his smile and caressed Hardy's head and face with the back of his hand.

"Matt, I've needed that for so long." They had been making love in Matt's bedroom for weeks by then, but this was the first since Hardy was a full time resident in his lover's house.

"And, I've needed you, Wolfie, you are mine and I claim you as my own, not to dictate to you, but to dedicate my life to you, to love endlessly and without ceasing."

Hardy reiterated his own exposition of love and devotion for Matt, his 'super' lover.

The two young men lay silent, hugging each other, occasionally caressing one part or another, a shoulder, a buttock, a calf or a penis. They slept in each other's arms until morning.

Sitting in his office on Monday afternoon, Matt was studying his paperwork, hoping to finish soon. After two classes and two large group rehearsals today, he was tired and wanted to go home to be with Hardy. A rap on his door announced a visitor who opened the door and was revealed as Carol Fowler, new vocal and choral instructor at Windsor on part time scheduling.

"Hi, Matt," Carol roared in her usual outdoor volume, "don't tell me you are doing paperwork?" She whispered, "You'll handle a lot more as Department Head!"

Matt looked at her with a smirk, "I'll hire you to handle all of it." He was thinking, 'Damn, I forgot, we invited Carol over for dinner tonight. Oh well.'

She laughed, "That would be the day. I don't do paperwork now."

"Hey, Carol, you still coming to dinner tonight? I hope." He looked at Carol, smiling fondly at his favorite female friend especially with Becky and his mother gone, formerly a retired teacher, now the new vocal instructor at Windsor College. She was not pretty, but very nice looking with blond-gray hair in soft waves over her head, slender with a good figure. She returned his smile.

"I wouldn't miss it, Matt, what are we having?"

Matt giggled, "Well, neither of us will know until we get there."

"Oh, you got a chef now, huh, Matt?" She showed disbelief in her face.

"I'm not sure about that, but a friend is supposed to be getting something ready?"

"Well, I guess we'll see when the time comes."

Matt had just decided to quit for the day, so he stood up and held an arm around Carol's shoulders. "Carol, you show up at six-thirty and we'll both find out if he can. Ok?"

She grinned and kissed him on the cheek, "Ok, Matt, you're on." She turned and left.

Matt thought, 'Whew, I forgot we'd invited her. Wonder if Hardy forgot about it, too?' He had decided not to tell Carol that Hardy was living with him, not yet anyway. He would see how the situation resolved during dinner.

Walking in the front door, Matt hollered, "Hardy, where are you?"

Silence.

Louder, he yelled, "Hardy, what are you doing. Answer me!"

Silence.

Quickly checking the first floor, he took the stairs two at a time, entered his bedroom and found Hardy fast asleep in their bed. Matt checked his watch, it was four-thirty. In an hour and a half, Carol would be there.

Matt got on the bed behind Hardy, spooning with him and put an arm around his chest. He whispered, "Hardy, Hardy love, Carol is here, what's for dinner?"

Hardy didn't react right away, he mumbled, "Wha'd ya say?"

"Hardy, hon, Carol is here, what's for dinner?"

This time, after a second or two, Hardy sat up, "What you say, Matty? Who's here?"

Matt sat up, turned to Hardy and kissed him hard on his lips, "Carol is coming at six- thirty for dinner. Did you forget?"

Hardy stuttered nervously, "Uh, no, no, Matt, I was just about to start getting ready."

"What do we have to serve, Hardy?" Matt kept a matter-of-fact face, trying fiercely to keep from smiling.

Again, Hardy stuttered, "Well, Matty, I was thinking about spaghetti for supper. Would that be all right to serve Carol?" A guilty look covered his face and Matt knew that he was making this up as he went.

"You are a lucky man, Hardy, because Carol is a lousy cook. I know; I've had to eat her cooking once, but made sure I never did again." He kissed Hardy's pouting lips, "It's okay, Wolfie, I'm sure you can do it."

Hardy kissed back, loving the feel of Matt's heavier lips on his own thin ones, "Why don't you get cleaned up, Matt, while I start cooking. I've had a shower, so it won't take me long."

Exactly at six-thirty Carol Fowler rapped on their front door. Matt answered quickly, hung up her coat and led her into the living room. She looked around, automatically judging the decor and furniture, while waiting for a glass of wine offered by Matt.

"Carol, I rent this place furnished, so I had nothing to do with the decorating."

"I wasn't judging your abilities, Matt, just wondering who would buy this crap."

They both laughed, clinking their wine glasses before they first sipped the dark, red vintage, not expensive but of decent quality. Carol giggled, "Well, Matt, that's better taste than the furnishings."

Hardy was introduced to Carol as a friend and sometime chef. She shook his hand, but without much seeming interest. He served the spaghetti, tossed salad, rolls and relishes. He noticed that the other two ate every scrap, so assumed that he had done a good job.

After the table was cleaned, and they were served some spumoni and coffee, the three relaxed at the table for conversation.

"You may not know that my major instrument is the trombone. Dr. Ridgway felt, since I was a student here, I could play with the Dukes." He looked at Matt adoringly, "And I'm grateful for that opportunity."

"Do you live in a rooming house or one of the dorms?" Carol obviously had the bit in her teeth and wouldn't be deterred.

"Well, I had a room, but ..... " Hardy hesitated, not know where to go with it.

Matt broke in then, "Carol, there is a whole story here." He proceeded to tell Carol all about Charlie Maltese/Falcone's attack on Hardy, and the rest. "So, when Charlie was arrested and left the city, Hardy had no one to help with the rent. I stepped in and offered to put him up here, since I had an extra bedroom." He smiled at Hardy, "So far, he's working out pretty well, although he is still on probation as a chef."

Carol smiled at the young men, thinking, 'I wonder if these guys are a gay couple?' She was usually perceptive to auras of other people, especially men. She had almost figured out her own husband when he surprised her by running away with another man. That damn near killed her. However, she had come to no conclusion about Matt and Hardy. Neither appeared to be at all feminine, and she had never felt any about Matt when she worked with him.

She had watched them as they worked to serve the dishes, cognizant of their almost complete understanding of each other's thinking and actions.

"Matt, that was very good of you to take Hardy in after his attack. Maybe if he could pay rent, you could do something about this ugly and disagreeable furniture."

Matt searched Carol's eyes, trying to find out if she was serious, or just being nasty. He could remember some lashings he'd had from her sometimes vicious tongue.

"Well, Carol, that will have to wait until Hardy can get a job that would work in with his studies, classes and performance group. He just doesn't have the money now, and it is nothing out of my pocket anyway." He did smile at her, but not with his usual friendly and warm smile. He was trying to get a take on her mood and thinking.

"How are the classes coming, Carol, everything working out okay?"

"Just great, Matt, I'm very glad you called me that night. This really helps my retirement."

"I don't think I ever met him, but wouldn't your son be about 18 or so now?"

The attractive woman stood, paced the living room and faced the men. Her face was not happy, but worried and grieved, reflecting the turmoil of her mind.

"You don't know this, Matt, but my son whom I loved without reservation ran away when he was 16. I haven't seen him for about three years. He ran away when he reached 16 years of age, just after he graduated from high school."

Matt reached out to her, pulling her to the sofa, sitting between the men. "Go ahead."

"I reported him missing after a few days, but never again heard from him. The police got nowhere." She got out some tissues, "I didn't want to invade his privacy, but finally read his diary and other papers. He had put them in a toy safe he'd gotten for Christmas as a little boy. He loved that safe, and I never went into it, though it would have been easy."

She put both hands to her face, weeping silently. "I found out that he had known he was gay for at least two years, and that he had no homosexual experiences except for his own masturbation efforts." She smiled, "If that can be termed homosexual." Then she continued, "Well, I guess you couldn't meet the 'same sex' criteria of a homosexuality better than that.

"I read his diary entries and wept, wishing I had an idea then of his predilection, so I could have helped. If he were gay, I would have done everything I could to get him help, a psychologist or psychiatrist to get him cured."

Matt interrupted, "I forget his name, Carol?"

"Todd O'Brien Fowler."

"What might he have used as a different name when he left?"

"I just don't know, Matt, but supposedly the police tried to search for different names."

Matt turned to face Carol, "I have some friends who might be able to help, and I would be willing to seek it with your permission. Also, was he working part-time anywhere?"

"I tried a private detective but he just ripped me off. Stole money by the barrel." She mused, "Yes, he did work as a child sitter, quite often, and I think he was well-regarded."

Matt smiled, "This wouldn't cost you anything, Carol, just give me all the information about Todd that you can, especially his interests, places he would have visited and liked. Oh, and I need a picture." He thought for a second, "What was your maiden name, Carol?"

"Warner, Matt, and I have a picture right here in my wallet." She gave it to Matt who showed Hardy. Right then she watched Matt and Hardy give each other a look that thoroughly defined to her their relationship. They were gay and no doubt in love with each other. 'Too bad,' she thought, 'they're headed for Hell and damnation, two good men so depraved and sick.'

"If you receive any news of my son, I'll be forever grateful."

Matt and Hardy showed Carol to the door, shut it, glanced at each other and hurried to their bedroom.

"You know, Hardy, I think I understand why her son ran away. He knew she would never understand about his life as a gay and man loving men."

Hardy sat on the bed, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands holding his head. "If he had any idea of her feelings about gays, he'd be out like a shot."

"Hardy, even if we find him, I don't think I could tell her where he was."

Hardy nodded, standing to hold Matt to him, hugging his lover and his 'wonderman'.

On December the 5th the temperature was cold, but no snow appeared as the motor home carrying the Dukes and Duchess of Windsor sped through the darkness toward River City on the Ohio River, to be ready for their concert the next night. The group would go to their rooms that night at the motel, then rehearse at the auditorium during the day on the 6th.

BJ and LJ, Rick and Jamal, Roger and Hardy had double rooms and Christine had a single room. Dr. Ridgway had been invited to stay with Brian and Mike in their enlarged log cabin.

The motor home had been an inspired idea for transportation, since everyone had been comfortable and refreshments had been available on board. Matt was so pleased with the trip so far that he envisioned many more trips, assuming that their renown would spread quickly.

After he settled the students in the motel, Matt had the motor home driver take him to the cabin outside of town. Tony and Ricco had given him explicit directions. The motor home would be parked at the same motel where the driver would also spend the next two days.

"Dr. Ridgway, I'm very pleased to meet you," Mike Keith welcomed him, "and I'm very eager to hear your group, most unusual as I've been hearing, and entertaining."

"Please call me Matt," Dr. Ridgway said, then looked at Brian Whitlow, "and I have spoken to this gentleman on the phone and am happy to meet him."

"Matt," Brian started, "please call us Mike and Brian, no formality is necessary."

Meanwhile Matt had been looking around at the vastness of the great room, the fine furnishings and especially the long, shining black Steinway piano. He couldn't help himself and walked to it, just brushing his fingers along the white keys.

"Do you play, Matt?"

"Yes, Brian, fairly well, I'm not just a sloppy trombonist!" He laughed and the others laughed with him. "I don't want to keep you up, but I have another request that I just don't know how to present." He followed the two men to a sitting area where Brian brought a beer for each.

"Matt, please, just try to feel at home and at ease with us; we aren't formal at all." Brian saluted with his beer before drinking. "I should have said you should bring your partner with you; the twins said he is a stunner. And they don't exaggerate." He laughed, "Of course I think they are stunners, themselves, and so should know what they are talking about."

Matt relaxed and tried to adjust to these handsome men, one dark and model-gorgeous, the other blond, all-American 'boy-next-door' type. "I felt the whole group should stay together to get even closer in their relationships. I would be pleased to introduce Hardy to you tomorrow."

"Brian, you have helped so much already, and I'm not sure what you can do, but here is my problem." Matt proceeded to tell Mike and Brian about Carol Fowler, about her work and her job, then about her son. He emphasized Carol's work with youth in vocal music and how badly she felt about not knowing about her son in time to keep him. He stopped, hoping against hope that his recital had been sincere and true.

"Matt," Mike spoke as a good friend, not a Congressman, "we would be pleased to be able to help. You can understand that we are intensely determined to provide more information for homosexual young men to help them understand their problems and opportunities. Each one is important and Todd O'Brien Fowler will be a fine test of our abilities."

"Thank you so much, Brian and Mike, I am even more indebted to you. But, I have a busy day tomorrow and should get to bed." Matt stood and waited for directions to his room.

"Matt, if you will follow me, I'll take you." Brian led them to the stairs, which they climbed, then down a hallway to Matt's bedroom, still in log cabin style but quite roomy with posh furnishings and accouterments.

"Your bathroom, Matt, is behind that door in the corner." He realized Matt only had a small overnight case with him, "If you have more clothing, that closet could hold a great deal."

"Brian, I have another case on the motor home which I forgot to bring in. I'll get the driver to bring it out here in the morning, hoping he can find the place again. At least it will be light." He smiled, "That motor home has been a blessing all the way around, perfect for a group this size."

A small table with two soft chairs sat in front of the large window. Brian pointed to them and suggested they sit a few minutes.

"Matt, I assume that the twins divulged much about Mike and me, but I want to clear everything between you and us. I am the one who inherited a vast amount of money, but both Mike and I must agree to any decision about those funds, otherwise no money would be dispensed. Mike let me go ahead with the check for your Bryan Howard Fund, but normally he would have searched for more information. With the twins and Joey on your side, there was no question about it. However, anything further, would invite a team investigation approach."

"This is not to deny where funds are needed, but we would be swamped if my name became associated with an infinite well of cash to be strewn to the winds."

Matt couldn't help yawning, "I understand Brian, and will do my best to keep your name out of any publicity." He blushed, "I'm sorry, I guess I better get to bed before I fall asleep."

"Excuse me, Matt, I've kept you up. Just remember, we are your friends and our friends will be yours. Those of ours who have met you have been extremely impressed. So, I'll say good night. Oh, when do you want to get up?"

"I better be up by seven, I suppose. I have called a rehearsal at nine this morning."

"Fine. Just come down the stairs and breakfast will be ready. Adam is a fine cook, though he is far more than that. He's my brother, who you will meet in the morning. Nite."

Brian started out of the door, "Oh," he laughed, "sorry, but is your driver coming out to get you?"

"No, I'll have to call him."

"Matt, Adam will be glad to run you into the city. He likes to show off his huge truck."

"Night."

"Night"

All of the motel rooms had king-sized beds and a bath but not much else. The Dukes and Duchess had settled in, invaded Christine's room for pop and munchies, but went to their own rooms before eleven. Matt had specifically forbidden any alcoholic beverages; they would be reserved for after the concert.

Hardy and Roger set up their bags in their room, stripped down to boxers and climbed in the bed, fresh sheets smelling good. They each had another Coke while they watched a little TV with the sound turned down low.

Roger spoke up, "I probably shouldn't drink this, I'll have to get up to pee in the middle of the night."

"That's all right, Rog, I'll probably be there before you."

Within five minutes they had decided they'd better sleep. Even though Roger wouldn't be playing tomorrow, they never knew when someone else might slug Hardy in the mouth.

Hardy woke and checked the clock. It was two in the morning. He didn't have to pee, but something had awakened him. He lay there; breathing quietly, and then realized that Roger wasn't in the bed. By sitting up Hardy could see a strip of light under the bathroom door, and he could hear something different, disturbing. Very quietly, Hardy slipped out of the bed and tiptoed to the bathroom door, leaning toward it, his ear on the wood.

Hardy soon realized what he was hearing; he could hear Roger crying, gasping softly and intermittently sobbing. What should he do? Since he really didn't know Roger very well, it was a difficult decision he had to make. He listened a while longer. When Roger seemed to be calming down, Hardy slipped back into the bed, trying to relax and be quiet. Maybe he could talk to Roger tomorrow, or after the concert.

Roger soon left the bathroom and also returned to the bed. He desperately wanted to have someone close whom he could talk to about . . . well, about his feelings. He then wondered if Hardy could be that someone, but quickly doubted it. Roger knew as well as the other Dukes that Hardy and Matt were a gay couple, closeted, but living together. Hardy would know what to do.

Roger soon slept and showed his normal self in the morning. Both he and Hardy arose, sporting wood, obvious and sticking out of their boxers, but this was just guys, nothing more. Well, almost, though Hardy didn't realize it, Roger had taken many glances at Hardy's hard penis as it partly stuck out of his boxers. He wondered about it, what it would feel like, what it would taste like when he had cum. They cleaned up, dressed and headed for breakfast.

The auditorium was packed, filled to the roof with students, faculty and many, many townspeople. An air of excitement whispered through the throng as expectations rose with the waiting.

Then the lights dimmed, the curtain swung gradually wider, opening to the scene of the Dukes and Duchess in their semicircle of chairs. The men were dressed in their white ties and black tails outfit and the Duchess's slinky red dress shone brilliantly in the spots. Their eyes were all on Hardy and the one flick of his slide, which would open the whole program. The concert proceeded without an intermission, through their scheduled pieces, occasionally breaking this progress when necessary to change costumes with Matt taking the stage to explain about the old music they were playing, sliding easily into more modern music; rock, pop, R&B, oldies and the few Christmas secular songs Matt had recently arranged. The applause after each selection gradually increased in volume and enthusiasm throughout the show.

The variety of music, dancing and multifaceted groupings kept everyone's interest high; that spurred the Dukes and Duchess onto peaks of technical perfection, sensitive playing and full expressiveness. The choreography shone on that large stage with infinite changes of colors.

After an hour and a half of performing, the Dukes and Duchess reached the final number, the playing of part of a Handel Overture, leading slickly into "There's No Business like Show Business." The standing ovation after that rivaled those of football fans after a winning game, a bit more restrained than a rock concert, but yet with just as much enthusiasm.

Matt came on stage after the last number to thank everyone for coming, hoping they would return another time. He took a bow in line with the quintet, five men and a beautiful, talented woman in the middle, spread wide but holding hands joining in their precision obeisance

He had seen Mike Keith and Brian Whitlow in a box accompanied by five or six of their young friends. He watched them throughout the show, appreciating the smiles on their faces and the applause their hands produced. Matt felt they were enjoying the show, seeing beyond the music itself to the education in the unusual patterns they wove.

Matt had told them there would be no encores, especially after performing for 90 minutes of almost continuous music. The group's members appreciated that, knowing that Dr. R had their welfare on his mind. They took their last bows, the curtains closed and the young members could relax from the tension and pressure of performance.

"Gang, that was wonderful. You performed just like you needed to, I'm so proud of you. Now, get changed, put your outfits in the carrying bags and we'll get back to the motel. I hope you don't mind, but I would prefer if we could celebrate at the motel, there is a nice restaurant with a lounge there." He applauded them, bowing in respect and appreciation, sending them into the dressing rooms to change.

Matt had noticed that Mike and Brian had left their box, came down to the concert hall level and talked to each other. Matt would have loved to have heard them.

"Brian," Mike started, "your scouts were right on the ball. That was top entertainment with an educational twist. I think we should go all out to support Dr. Ridgway and his talented young people. How do you feel?"

Brian smiled at Mike, "I'm with you, Mike, I agree. The first thing I would suggest would be to get them their own motor home, especially for them, no one else. We'll have to check on the best way to do that." He thought, "Maybe we could boost the Bryan Howard Fund and lease the motor home by the year, or let them buy the vehicle. Let's check into that."

"Okay, Brian, that sounds good. I would like you to go to Windsor to check out the college, the faculty and facilities, especially for the Music Department. I have to head for Washington on Monday. Maybe the twins could be available for the trip, or Joey, with or without Ben. Ok? I don't want you going anywhere by yourself, seriously, love."

"Sure," he answered, "Oh, Mike, here's Matt." He smiled at Matt and stuck out his hand, "Matt, that was fantastic, just wonderful. You have a marvelous group of young musicians."

Matt shook with Brian and with Mike.

"Matt," Mike said, "we have seen enough and plan to give you our full support. Our first thought that we just hatched, would be to get you your own motor home for the Dukes and no one else. I haven't figured just how to do that but we will get our lawyers on the job." He smiled broadly at Matt, "Congratulations, Dr. Ridgway, we're on your side."

"I thank you, gentlemen, so much, and we will appreciate your support and financial help. But I need to get to the motel for a little celebration. Why don't you two come with us? You will need to become acquainted with these people."

Mike answered, "Matt, I've got work to do at home, but Brian could stay and bring you out to the cabin when you are ready. Ok?"

The Dukes had arrived at the motel in their motor home, using their travel time to unwind just a bit, letting the adrenalin pressure ease off. Matt rode back to the motel with Brian in his Mustang, the hot little number that it was, and Brian liked to show what it could do. Fortunately he knew a Lieutenant on the River City Police Force very well, so got plenty of leeway.

Brian was introduced to everyone. He smiled slyly when big and tall Little Jeff, and short and small Big Jeff were presented, easily getting the 'joke' of their names. He bowed, held Christine's hand which he kissed very urbanely, appreciating her beauty. "Christine, your performance on stage was delightful and I think your gowns are especially enchanting." Christine loved this handsome man, doting on his remarks. Brian had gained poise, savoir-faire and so much charm and charisma in his two years with Mike Keith, since being a congressional page. He was still very young, but has handled himself superbly in the exalted company with which he often travels.

On meeting Rick and Jamal, Brian couldn't decide which was more handsome, the light brown, tall and slender man with a face of Caucasian beauty, or Rick with his brown hair and Tom Sawyer type face, freckles and all. Brian could tell right off the bat they were in love. They just couldn't hide that.

He also noted that Matt sat down at the table next to a blond beauty who looked well set up in his jeans and tight T-shirt. There was no difficulty in seeing them also as lovers, too, in love with and devoted to each other.

Brian cornered the waiter to have him bring another round to the whole gang, well appreciated by them all. Matt looked at Brian with a slight warning face that said, 'please don't buy them any more. I have to get them to bed and to sleep, sometime.' When Brian smiled back and nodded, they reached an agreement in silence, that Matt was their leader and minder with his heart in every decision and every thought toward them.

Brian squeezed in between Matt and Christine Griffith. Even though he was gay and in love with Mike Keith, he appreciated the beauty and physical charms of women of Chris's type, lovely and desirable, to most. Roger could tell him about Chris and her 'charms'.

Brian had also met Roger, the other roadie and saw the innocence in his eyes. He hoped that someone would take this young man in hand to help him through his awakening. By the end of the evening Brian was completely taken with the Dukes and so enjoyed their company that he planned to spend much more time with them. He had to be so careful of people who wanted to be his friend in selfish greed and desire. He warded them off successfully, or had his brother, Adam, take care of them. He was a prime target for a kidnaper.

Roger and Hardy found their motel room and settled to watch a little late night TV, primarily Saturday Night Live on E! Channel, their favorite show. Having stripped down to their boxers, they relaxed on the wide bed. Roger wished Hardy wore briefs or bikinis so he could see more.

Hardy noticed Roger's quick glances and, to accommodate his interest, he squirmed around until his cock arose somewhat and appeared a bit in his fly opening, not hard, just heading that way. By the end of the program both men, tired after their exertions of the evening, decided to go to bed and to sleep.

Hardy stood up to lock their door and shut off the lights. Before the darkness filled the room, Roger had seen most of Hardy's cock, stiffer than before, slide through the opening in the front. He actually gasped quietly when seeing the size of it.

They settled in the bed, but neither could get to sleep, still coming down from their high.

"Are you asleep?" Hardy quietly whispered.

"No, I can't seem to drop off."

Hardy turned toward the young man, not knowing what he should do to help him.

"Rog, I woke up in the middle of the night, last night, and heard you crying in the bathroom." He persisted before Roger could respond, "Now, Roger, don't be worried. I'd never tell anyone, you must know that, but I wonder if I could help you. If you don't want me messing in your life, say so."

Roger said nothing, remained still and quiet, studying his visions. Hardy thought he had gone to sleep, when he said, "Hardy, I'm embarrassed, but I've decided I want to tell you something about me and Christine. Please don't ever tell, please." Even in the dark, Hardy could imagine how Roger's face was disposed.

"Rog, anything you tell me stays between us. I'd never tell anyone, even Matt." He caught himself, "Oops, I mean, Dr. R."

Then Roger did laugh freely and giddily, "Hardy, you don't need to worry about that, we all know you two are lovers." Quickly he added, "But, we will never tell anyone." He blushed a bit, "You must know that we all love both of you."

Hardy grinned and thought in the darkness, 'And, maybe, Rog, you love one of us a lot more than the other.'

Roger proceeded to tell Hardy all that had happened between him and Christine a few weeks before. When he finished, Hardy started laughing, loud and long, until he realized that Roger was crying, actually sobbing into his pillow. He had misunderstood Hardy's laughing.

"Oh, Rog, don't cry. Listen to me, I wasn't laughing at you," he said, "please, Roger, I didn't mean anything against you."

Roger cried harder, completely uncontrolled, shaking the bed with his jerks and spasms.

Hardy decided what he must do. He crawled to Rog's side of the bed, wrapped his arms around Roger and pulled him to his body. Roger was startled out of his crying binge and realized what Hardy had done. He was holding them together and they were practically naked.

Roger settled quietly against Hardy, unable to realize what Hardy had done, he was actually touching Roger with his body, holding him tight. Roger almost overdosed on his flying spirits; his long held wishes had been answered.

Hardy's mouth was against Rog's ear, their cheeks touching, as he said, "Rog, when you told me what had happened between you and Christine, all I could think of was the four or five hundred male students who would give their left nut to be in your position with Chris, in addition to half of the male faculty. Do you see, Rog? Do you?" He repeated.

Roger was still, barely breathing, and then suddenly he broke out in roars of laughter, almost in an uncontrolled spate of cackling and giggling. It took a while but he did finally calm down. "Oh, Hardy, I never even thought of that, but you telling me, is even funnier."

Hardy tried to release Roger, get away at least some ways from him, but Roger held onto his body with an even harder grip on Hardy. He tried even harder to push Rog, but he didn't want to hurt him. However, Roger understood what Hardy was doing, and he knew he had to make his plea.

"Hardy, please hold me, please. I know you are in love with Matt, but I need you so much to help me." He calmed as Hardy quit trying to break away. "You see, after my trial of temptations with Christine, I couldn't understand where I was going myself. As you said, so many men would have been delirious to be with Chris, and here I was, leaving her without doing what she asked." He hesitated, "Can you tell me, Hardy, what is the matter with me, and what can I do now?"

Hardy decided to help Roger, to do what he could, and he knew what might help a lot, but he was engaged to Matt on their terms and was worried what Matt would think. Then he considered, this guy needs help and needs it now. Maybe by showing the way, I could direct him to a good life as I have found it.

"Roger, you said you knew I was in love with Matt. That's true, and in effect we are engaged to each other, no ritual except in our hearts. However, I feel you need some help, some direction, and I think Matt would agree with me. But, you must never tell anyone, I mean it, anyone, of how I help you, or what we do. Ok?"

"Oh, Hardy, thank you. I will never tell. Honest."

Hardy thought, 'Well, just in case, I better tell Matt.'

He said, "I will be explaining to Matt how I have helped you and I don't think there will be a problem."

Hardy tried to explain further. "Roger, no one is 'made' gay. If you are gay, that's what you have been and will be, you can only go to great lengths to hide it. I can't make you gay and I can't make you straight. You are what you are." He paused, "Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Hardy, I do. I guess I just need to know which way I am, and I'll take it from there."

During this conversation, both young men had felt the excitement of the situation, and both had stiff cocks, which the other could feel.

"Could I, Hardy, could I?"

Hardy felt Rog's hand creep near to his cock, now sticking completely out of his boxer slit. 'Oh, well,' thought Hardy, 'whatever goes, I guess.'

"Ok, Rog, you can feel it."

Hardy felt the hesitant fingers glide over his rigid cock, over the smooth, velvet skin he so enjoyed himself. Rog felt the shaft, hard yet soft, and the spongy head, delicate yet firm, also smearing his precum over the head with his thumb.

"Roger, if you aren't interested in women, have you watched and observed men to the point of being aroused by them?"

Roger laughed, "Hardy, you ought to know, I've watched you enough."

"You are so right, " Hardy said, "I have noticed it and was flattered by it. I doubt if Matt has seen it, but I don't think he would care. He likes to look at me himself." He grinned, "We like to watch one another."

"Hardy, will you feel me, tell me what I feel like?"

Hardy slid his hand between their bodies and found that Roger had pulled his boxers down, releasing his dick from confinement. By touch it felt almost as large as Hardy's own, big but not quite as long. He'd have to see it to be sure.

After searching over the whole cock, Hardy said, "Well, Roger, your dong seems to be as normal as possible, larger than the average, and as far as I can tell, a great dick to have." He mused, "Was there something specific you wanted to know about it?"

"Well, if I am ..... ah .... g .... gay, would my dick be different?"

Hardy forced himself not to laugh. "Roger, there is no difference between a gay dick and a straight dick. Dicks are different from man to man, but not from gay to straight. The dick doesn't care how it happens; he just wants to be satisfied."

"Yours feels so huge, Hardy." He hesitated, "I'd really like to see it, please."

"Ok, I guess I'm intrigued with yours. Lights on." Hardy reached to the bedside table and switched on the small table lamp. The light was not bright, but shone a golden radiance over the room and the two men. Both had pulled down their boxers and lay, entirely naked, tanned bodies glowing against the white sheets. Hardy and Roger looked at each other, one body extremely well developed, muscular and defined, the other body well shaped with full muscles but not defined or closely formed.

Hardy pushed Roger onto his back, raising himself over the younger man, then dropping his head to Roger's chest, letting his lips and tongue create sensitive shocks to his nipples, twitting the nub of one while chewing the other. This took Roger by surprise; he'd never even touched his nips unless in the shower, didn't know they could send the sensational message which was reaching his balls and cock.

"Oh, Hardy, oh, I can't believe what you are doing to me, such a hit to my senses, particularly the impact in my groin." He was wriggling his body, shrugging his shoulders, his arms flopping about and his hands groping Hardy's head.

Hardy continued down Roger's chest and stomach, finding his navel, his innie, and thrust his pointed tongue and washed around. Roger kept his hands on Hardy's blond hair, caressing the loose curls, not trying to move Hardy's head but enjoying the feeling of this man who was trying to help him.

"Hardy, when will I know if I'm gay? Will you tell me?"

Hardy smiled, "When I am finished with you, which shouldn't take too long, you will know, one way or the other. Or I will show you a way for you to tell. Will that suit you?"

Hardy was thrilled with the big grin that Roger threw at him.

Roger giggled, "Yes, that's fine." He wiggled his hips, his tall, rigid cock swaying back and forth over his crotch, touching Hardy's neck, and oozing precum, which dripped on Hardy's shoulder.

Tickled by Roger's attitude, Hardy enjoyed his childlike enthusiasm and eagerness building toward what he hoped for, an answer to his sexual conflicts. So far, Roger only felt the vague sexual excitement Hardy was impressing on his body.

Hardy continued his trip over his abs to chew on the pubes above Roger's cock, surrounding the base of that rigid hot rod. After gripping Rog's hard cock, he swirled his tongue around the glans, then sucked the cockhead between his lips, slowly working his mouth over and down until he had absorbed Rog's entire stiff prick. When the head met Hardy's throat, he stopped pushing so much but slid his tongue all around the rigid shaft, and especially around the firm yet soft, squishy head and a little into the slit in the very top. He felt that Roger was way too close to cumming, so eased off and pushed Rog's thighs up and back until they almost rested on Rog's chest.

Roger's full testicles, good egg-size balls in the wrinkled sac, falling low from his cock shaft, hanging delicately and still cool enough. By lathering his balls with saliva, Hardy warmed them more, raising electric shocks to Roger from them. He also sucked them into his mouth, one at a time since they were too big to take together.

When Hardy extended his travel beyond the scrotum, along the perineum between the balls and anus, Roger was again shocked, zapped by the electricity in his nervous system from the licks of Hardy's tongue on the sensitive skin.

And Hardy didn't stop there. He kept going until his tongue tip described a circle on the outside of Rog's asshole, around the wrinkled ass lips, and then plunged into the hole, searching for his friend's inner core, trying to excite his nerves to higher levels, getting him closer to cumming.

"Hey, man, Hardy, I can't hold it much more, I'm going to cum soon unless you quit."

Immediately, Hardy left Rog's asshole and returned to his cock, slathering the shaft from base to tip, but he soon quit because he didn't want Roger to cum yet.

Hardy moved up to lie on his side facing Roger, not touching him at all.

"Now comes the crux of the matter." He took Roger's hand in his, "This will decide for you whether you are gay or not. What would you like to do to me, Roger?"

Roger's eyes widened and sparkled, becoming more moist than usual. "I would do this."

Roger's cock had grown so hard and large that he was afraid he would cum too soon, but kept up his attack on Hardy, his masturbation visions coming into reality, better than he could ever have fantasized.

Roger continued as Hardy had on his own body; nipples, umbilicus, light brown pubes and finally the 7-inch phallus, straight and tall, solid and smooth. Sticking out his tongue, hesitating, Roger finally touched it to a drop of precum on the tip, tasting the bland, slightly salty fluid, then sliding the cockhead through his lips into his mouth. He liked it.

He was thinking, 'My god, I can't believe this, doing to Hardy what I've always dreamed of. He's been my idol, the hope of my life in desire and passion.'

Roger left Hardy's cock for the moment, and reached under his thighs to push them up to his chest, revealing his ass and secrets therein. He licked Hardy's balls and pulled them into his mouth, one at a time. The scrotum was so soft, almost suede-like, but flexible and sensitive and tasted of Hardy's man flavor. Roger continued, followed Hardy's trail, licking the seam between his legs, the perineum from scrotum to asshole, and the scent of his rear end becoming stronger each moment.

He hesitated, 'Can I do it? That's a man's asshole, where he defecates, his most secret bodily part. I just don't know.' Then he knew; 'I do want to do that; I want to lick his asshole, to taste his inner flavors and make love to him there.'

His tongue slid wetly through Hardy's buttocks crack, one end to the other, trailing saliva over the hole itself. The taste to Roger acted as an aphrodisiac, making his breathing irregular and fast, his hot passion growing with each moment. He gripped Hardy's buttocks tightly, his fingers acting as claws while he swiped around the hole, smoothing the wrinkles momentarily, thrilling with the taste of Hardy's anus, way different, but still fascinating. He loved this, he knew, but he wanted to taste Hardy's seed, his semen, and soon.

He let Hardy's legs drop to the bed, spread them wide so he could kneel low between them. He drew his tongue up Hardy's thighs, one to the other, up into his crotch onto his balls, then to his throbbing cock, swaying slightly. He licked up the cock to his glans and around the soft and tender flesh, loving the feel and the taste of his precum lube.

Ramming the cock as far in his mouth as he could, Roger held it with his teeth covered by his lips, sliding them up and down on the shaft while still continually tonguing the head, amplifying the nerve sensations entering Hardy's system, tingling and jolts from his crotch through his spine to his head.

Hardy knew he wouldn't last much longer and that would be okay, he could tell that Roger wanted to taste his semen, the fluid of his inner core. So, he let it happen.

"Roger, I'm going to cum, man, I'm cumming. If you want it, h ... here .... here it .... ugh ... oh, ngh ... you got it, man."

Roger stayed with Hardy's cock, keeping it just inside his mouth in the warmth and fluids, sucking some but mostly swishing his tongue on the head. He knew that Hardy had cum when he groaned and the liquids ejected from his cockhead, squirting into his mouth and down his throat. Roger tasted it, like nothing he'd ever savored in his life, bland yet a little salty and a tinge of bitters. There must have been seven or eight shots, projected swiftly through the opening, then, as the urgency subsided, it drooled slowly. Avidly desiring more, Roger took the cock in as far as he could, then putting pressure with his tight lips, drew toward the tip to retrieve any further semen.

Hardy was wiped out; he's just experienced a climax greater than most others he'd had. It certainly was harder than any of his masturbation efforts over the years. Maybe it was because Roger was so determined to do the best he could, even for his first time. He lay on the bed quietly while he recovered his breathing and composure and poise.

He breathed softly, "Roger, you have one more test."

"What did you say, Hardy?" He had been in another universe somewhere.

"Hi, Roger, glad to have you back. I said; you have one more test."

Eagerly, anxiously, "Go ahead, Hardy, I'm ready for anything."

"Ok, the ultimate test, are you ready to kiss a man?" He smiled at his partner, silently trying to follow his thinking, his conduct.

Slowly, Roger rose up over Hardy and lowered his head over Hardy's, gently pressing his lips against the others, sliding his tongue in the crack between Hardy's thin, pink lips. Before long, Roger had moved his face into Hardy's mouth, lips and tongue searching the depths of Hardy's dark, warm, wet mouth sliding over teeth, gums and cheeks. The remainder of Hardy's cum that was in his mouth was transferred onto Hardy's tongue, and then mixed around those liquids already present.

He gathered Hardy's body into his arms, holding tightly to that bundle of bone, muscle and all the rest which made up the beautiful, enticing human he lay with on the soft bed. He whispered, "Hardy, I love you and know I always will. I know I will need someone to love just for myself, but I'll remember my first love and first loving of a man. You have made it possible, Hardy, for me to say, 'I'm gay', and be proud that I am gay. It is all a part of what I am, and for better or worse, I'm happy."

Hardy held Roger, too, pulled him closer, and whispered, "Roger, there will always be a piece of you in my mind and heart, remember that. I do love you in a separate way from Matt and you can bet I'll never forget."

"I can't thank you enough, Hardy, I know after this coming morning we'll be apart, still friends but no longer lovers. I'm okay with that, I hope, but are you sure you don't have a brother running around somewhere? A cousin, maybe?" They giggled together.

Hardy still held Roger, and decided he would until morning when they would have to split. Right then he had to talk some sense to him.

"Roger, you will learn that it isn't easy to be gay, sometimes very difficult. Like Matt and me, you will wish you could lead your life as you want without interference and prejudice, even violence. I plead with you to be careful about whom you tell of your discovery tonight. Everyone will not accept you, and many will push you away, forcefully."

"But, remember, you will have friends, Roger; Matt and I will always be your friends." He laughed, "Actually, you may not know it, but you have a number of very close friends here in the Dukes, LJ and BJ, Rick and Jamal to just name a few. They are of the same body of man as you and Matt and I."

"Wow, Hardy, I didn't know there were so many in the Dukes." He hesitated, "Ah, now that I think of it, I should have known. That should make us a tighter group, right?"

"I sure hope so, Rog, now let's sleep. I will hold you all night and hope that keeps you for a lifetime." Hardy held Roger in his arms, caressing his body, back and primarily his buttocks which were so beautiful, bubbly and pert with wonderful curves to entice anyone.

Tears rolled silently down Roger's cheeks; he slowly whispered, deep emotion in his words, "Thank you, Hardy, I love you and always will." He pulled the sheet to cover them, the air conditioning was almost too cool.

The rapid approach of winter had brought darkness so much earlier to Columbus. Anne Wolfe, Steven Ridgway and Gary Stuart sat in Steve's living room on the front side of his house. Anne had been offered and accepted the use of the master suite as her own living quarters. She still owned her house in Upper Arlington, but only spent occasional days there. Those days were usually when Steve, Gary and the boys were visiting 'Nana' Wolfe, their adoptive grandmother. She adored that, since she would never have any grandchildren through Hardy. However, she loved Hardy nonetheless, and actually doted on him, if the truth were known.

"This young man we're waiting for has been recommended to me by Mr. and Mrs. Quentin Rittenberry whom I've known for a fair while. He worked for them as a nanny for their three children, ages 3, 5, 7. Three years later, the children were all in school and did not really need him anymore."

Anne knew that Gary Stuart and Steve were a couple, owning their own homes next to each other, but operating as a single-family unit. Jacob and Joshua had loved Gary for a couple years, anyway, and continued to do so since he had become a second father. Steve was telling them that Gary was their stepfather who came to them when their mother died. He emphasized that they had two fathers from now on. When they all slept in the Ridgway house, they slept upstairs, leaving the first floor suite for Nana. Rarely, but sporadically, Steve and Gary would stay at Gary's house while the boys spent the night with "Nana" in the other house. Anne loved dearly these two 'sons' and two 'grandsons' of hers. She knew her son in law, Matt a bit, but not very well. He was at her house after Becky Ridgway's Memorial at the church.

Steve had decided to ask Anne to be a grandmother to his children after his wife died suddenly, and she was thrilled to embrace them as her own. Steve's in-laws, who lived on the east coast and were both in ill health, had never been close to Steve, friendly but not related. He also felt that Anne needed friends, if not relatives. She had divorced her husband a few years before, and had nothing to do with his family, before or after. Hardy was her only child.

Steve looked at Anne, "I know, Anne, you would say that you can do it all, but we don't want that, Anne. You must have time for yourself to enjoy your life outside this house. And, we do know you love to play golf, so you must be free enough to do that. Okay?"

Steve and Matt's own parents had disappeared from their old home in Bexley, vanished, and neither one had been able to locate them. Matt's mother had rejected him from the family when he told her he was gay. Neither of Steve and Matt's parents were particularly close to their children, raising them, but without much love or even affection. And these two boys were incredibly young boys and men, rejected by their parents who never understood them.

"He's eighteen now, almost nineteen, finished with school when he was 16 because of skipped elementary grades. They praise his gentleness, devotion and discipline with the kids. I believe they have allowed him to continue living there until he finds another position. His name is Todd O'Brien."

Gary Stuart had a good idea who this young man was, where he came from and just who was looking for him. He couldn't decide whether to bring him up short with personal questions, or just let him hang himself. Gary had received an email from Matt with Todd O'Brien Fowler's picture attached to it; there was no doubt they were one and the same. This had to be Carol Fowler's missing son, gone for about three years. He would talk to this young man, as soon as he could.

Write to Paul at 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.