Author's note: this is part four of a love story between two teenage Scottish boys. Erotic fiction is brand new to me and I can only hope that you enjoy it. The boys in this story engage in unprotected sex. Please do not pull me up on that - this is fiction. Many thanks to everyone who has emailed me with encouragement and special thanks to "Joe Camp" for his advice on the genre and for his support.
Warning: this story contains scenes of graphic teenaged sex.
THE LAIRD'S SON Part Four
Jamie was asleep, sprawled and tousled, his hair still damp from their swim. Michael loved watching over him while he slept. It wasn't just because it allowed him to look at him as much as he wanted to, it was the intimacy as well - the trust. Jamie was his lord again and he was his close and faithful squire.
It had turned into one of those hot, sultry afternoons, and he sat on guard and listened to the drowsy droning of insects. A buzzard mewled overhead and he squinted up and watched it, black against the deep blue of the sky, its pinions spread as it played on the thermals.
They were in the shade of the trees, but Jamie's naked young body was dappled with stray shafts of sunlight. Michael wished he were an artist and could catch this moment in time forever. He thought about how it felt to touch Jamie, how soft his skin was, how surprised he'd been when he had touched him as a lover for the first time. He had expected the yielding pliancy of the girls he'd danced with, and was startled by how hard he felt, by the unaccustomed muscular responsiveness.
The thoughts excited him and he opened his legs to make room for his growing erection. Reaching down to touch himself, he remembered Jamie looking at his cock and felt a spasm of pleasure. He was bigger than last summer, not much longer perhaps, but thicker. But it wasn't so much the comment Jamie had made that aroused him; it was what lay behind the look - Jamie wanted him.
He played with himself slowly and found himself imagining what it would be like to touch Jamie with his cock, to watch it stroking against his beautiful face, his lips, pressing against his hard nipples.
"You can do that when you're on your own."
Michael started at Jamie's voice and drew his hand away guiltily. "I thought you were asleep."
Jamie smiled lazily. "I was asleep, but I like watching you when you don't know I'm doing it. "Are you coming over here, or am I coming to get you?"
He shifted from his belly onto his side and Michael's prick twitched at the sight of his erection. "You really are huge," he said, standing up. "What size is it?"
"For fuck's sake, Michael. Don't get into that stuff. What does it matter what size somebody is. I hate size queens."
Michael stood still and looked at the ground. "I'm sorry."
Jamie sighed. "Me too. Come on, baby, let's make up."
Michael lay down on his side facing him and instinctively reached out a hand to touch his face but he withdrew it again suddenly, unsure if a gesture of tenderness was allowed. Jamie sighed again and put his hand back where it had been.
"I've told you before; I don't bite."
"You did more than just bite that morning at the castle."
"Shit!" Jamie rolled onto his back and massaged his eyes. "Will you just leave it?"
"I don't know where I am with you," Michael told him, and was stunned that he'd said it out loud.
Jamie gave him the same appraising look as he had when he had lost his temper in the stable. "Look, Michael, I get..." He stopped and his eyes became suddenly clouded. "I'll tell you where we are. We're lying naked in a nice private spot and we both have hard- ons." He turned back to face him and, placing a hand behind his neck, drew him closer and kissed him deeply.
Usually Michael was completely passive, but this time he found himself sparring with his tongue to French kiss back. They kissed for a long time, exploring each other's mouths with their tongues, while their hands stroked and re-learned each other.
Jamie lay back, his eyes drugged with desire, and Michael kneeled up to drink him in.
"Anything you want, big man," Jamie told him huskily. "I'm all yours."
Michael hesitated and licked his lips, his eyes running over Jamie's fit, slender body and stopping at his excited cock for a moment, before looking at his face.
"Whatever you want," Jamie said again.
Michael laid his hand on his thigh and Jamie brought his knees up and opened his legs to let him in. Michael was nervous; he wanted to please Jamie but he didn't really know how he was supposed to go about it. Jamie had always been the active partner, and Michael's inexpert fumblings with the boy from school hardly constituted foreplay. He stroked Jamie's tender inner thighs with his fingertips, and Jamie smiled and closed his eyes.
Michael caressed Jamie's balls gently, feeling their weight, feeling the shape of them under the loose skin. He positioned himself and tentatively began to cover the same ground with his tongue. Jamie sighed and began to stroke his hair.
Michael buried his nose in Jamie's soft pubic hair for a moment, inhaling deeply. And then he tongued upwards, licking up and down Jamie's hard, hot shaft before engulfing the swollen, purple glans in his mouth and beginning to suck gently. Jamie shivered and Michael began to suck harder, his head bobbing, and his mouth full of cock and precum. He moved his hand and began to wank Jamie in time with his sucking, and Jamie thrust involuntarily for a moment before stopping him.
"Not yet, baby," Jamie whispered. "The root of my cock, where it joins my body - lick me there."
Michael did as he was asked, his hand slowing but still working. He was intoxicated by Jamie's scent, by the sweat salt taste under his balls, by the deeper, stronger musk that beckoned him. He slid his tongue downwards and tasted the rosebud of Jamie's tight, puckered sphincter for the first time. Jamie groaned and raised his slender hips.
"Aw, fuck. Yes..."
Michael's tongue circled and began to probe. He hadn't expected to like doing this, hadn't expected to like the taste, but it was turning him on to an incredible degree and his hard, young prick was thrilling and oozing precum.
"Jamie," he said, lifting his head, "turn over. It'll be easier."
Jamie gave him a filthy grin. "You dirty bastard."
Their eyes met and Michael grinned back at him. It was the first time he'd felt like an equal.
"There's K-Y in the bag," Jamie told him as he started to turn over. "You'd better get that too."
Michael swallowed and squeezed his prick as he felt it begin to throb. It wasn't time to get that excited. It was difficult, though, and looking back at Jamie and seeing him ready for him, young and wanton, his hand stroking his beautiful cock, didn't make it any easier.
Michael began again, lapping Jamie's hot crevice before moving back to his prim, puckered hole. Jamie shuddered and Michael began to penetrate his anus, probing and pushing in deeper as Jamie opened for him. He felt the smooth walls of Jamie's rectum against his tongue, and began to thrust in and out of him. Jamie moaned and pushed back against Michael's mouth, his hand beginning to seriously pump his weapon.
Michael was sweating with excitement, his rigid prick dripping and his balls tight. He drew back. "Jamie, can I..."
"Aw, fuck, Michael! Hurry up!"
It was agony to stop and lubricate his prick with the jelly but he was conscious that he'd been told to. He slid his aching tool up and down Jamie's slick crack and gasped. The feeling was so intense that it was almost orgasmic.
"Hurry up!" Jamie hissed.
Michael pressed against Jamie's anus and the sight of his cock slowly nudging it's way into that forbidden hole almost did for him. He closed his eyes and gripped Jamie's hips. But Jamie pushed back roughly, impaling himself on Michael's hard, young tool until Michael felt his whole cock gripped inside Jamie's tight hole.
And then Jamie was fucking himself on Michael's prick, sliding it in and out, gripping and releasing.
"Come on, little virgin," Jamie groaned. "Fuck me!"
Michael thrust forward and Jamie pushed back to meet him. And then nature took over and Michael was fucking him for all he was worth, the feelings of intense pleasure flooding through him were indescribable as he fought for release. And Jamie was coming, crying out as he spurted and jerked, his anal sphincter pulsing on Michael's blazing cock. Michael held onto him, thrusting rapidly and shouting his name as he pumped hot sperm deep into his bowels.
They collapsed together, both gasping as Michael withdrew his softening tool. Jamie shifted to lie on his back, one knee up. His lithe, young body was glistening with sweat and splattered with pools and strands of milky semen. Michael lowered his head and began to lick him clean without thinking, tasting, for the first time, the egg white and salt that was Jamie.
"Not my cock," Jamie warned. "It's too sensitive."
Michael raised his head and looked at him, a trickle of sperm escaping from the corner of his mouth.
"Fuck, you're beautiful," Jamie told him and pulled him up for a kiss.
Michael lay against him nestling his head into his shoulder as Jamie stroked him. He wanted to be at peace, to just lie and enjoy the closeness and not question anything, but he was already worrying that he had lied about having a boyfriend when it had been obvious to Jamie that he'd been a virgin. As usual, he was at a loss to know what Jamie was thinking and that didn't help.
"The boy at school, Duncan," he said. "It's just... We've just... You know, mutual masturbation. We..." He was about to admit that they weren't really boyfriends as such, but he felt Jamie's whole body tense and he shut up.
"That's nice," Jamie told him coldly. "Now shift. I want to get washed."
"Am I going to see you?" Michael asked. He was rigid with anxiety. Jamie had ignored him since he'd mentioned Duncan and now Jamie was going back to Rowan Cottage while he was headed back to the castle. He didn't know if Jamie was jealous or just angry because he'd mentioned another boy just after they'd made love. He couldn't imagine that it was jealousy - Jamie had to know how he felt about him. Besides, Jamie wanted him to have a boyfriend.
"Whatever," Jamie replied irritably, and walked away leaving him standing.
By the time he was back at the castle, Michael felt good about the day. He'd made an arse of the Duncan thing, but Jamie still wanted to see him. He went round to the back of the castle, hoping to meet his mother.
She was watering plants in her private garden but stopped when she saw him. "I don't need to ask if you've had a good time," she told him. He grinned and she shook her head. "It's the bite he's left on your neck that I was commenting on, not any inner glow."
"Ah." He raised his hand to touch his neck, remembering the attention Jamie had paid to it when they'd made love the first time. "Are you angry with me?"
She sighed. "Your father doesn't know your gay, Michael, and now is not a good time to tell him." She paused. "The love-bite's fine - he won't ask. But please be discreet."
He looked at her closely. She looked drawn and tired.
"It's going to be a big problem, isn't it?" he asked. It had just hit him for the first time how much of a problem it was going to be. Their family history went back for hundreds of years and the continuance of the family name and title now rested squarely on his shoulders.
His mother looked at his face and touched his cheek. "Don't worry about it," she told him. "It's not time to worry." She held him at arm's length. "Besides, you have more than enough on your plate with Jamie."
"I don't know where I am with him," he admitted. "He was friendlier than I expected. And the..." He coughed to hide his embarrassment. He hadn't meant to mention sex to his mother. He wasn't even sure if she suspected that they were doing more than kissing each other. You're being naive, he thought, and started again. "The, you know... That's great. But I can't work him out."
"Perhaps he can't work you out either," she suggested. "Have you tried talking to him?"
Michael sighed. "He isn't exactly easy to talk to. His mother was lovely," he added.
His mother smiled. "Kathy is lovely."
"Does she know I'm gay?"
She nodded. "Yes, she does, and she doesn't have a problem with it."
"What about me and Jamie?"
"You're both seventeen, Michael. It's hardly an adult relationship."
Michael was appalled. He had thought she understood. Now he realised that she thought it was just an adolescent crush. He was inclined to be angry when he remembered how she had used his feelings for Jamie to call a truce with his father. She saw the expression on his face and spread her hands.
"I'm not saying that what you feel for Jamie isn't real, Michael. But you are very young."
Michael nodded. "Remind me, because I think I must have forgotten - how old were you when you fell in love with my father?"
She opened her mouth and then closed it again for a second before beginning to laugh. "Touche. I was eighteen."
"Thank you." He smiled and turned to go.
He spent the next twenty-four hours worrying about the whole hereditary thing. Being a son and heir he was going to be expected to produce his own son and heir, and he couldn't imagine himself doing it. It wasn't a question of not being able to have sex with a woman, he knew he could probably find a surrogate mother for his child and that he would only be required to supply the sperm, not have sex with her. But his father was going to expect him to bring home a wife as well. He knew his mother was right; it was far too early to worry about it. But he was worrying about it. He needed a friend to talk to but the only person he trusted enough was Jamie, and he knew that it was sex Jamie was interested in, not friendship. He spent an hour being miserable about that, and then phoned him.
"What?" Jamie asked irritably, when he had been fetched to the phone.
"Stop being a shit," Michael told him.
Silence.
"I'm sorry I spoke about the boy from school; it was stupid. But it was because I'd been lying to you and I don't want to lie to you. He's not my boyfriend. I don't have a boyfriend. I need someone to talk to, Jamie. And you're all I've got." Bang goes that, he thought, I'll never see him again. There were tears in his eyes but he knew Jamie couldn't hear them in his voice. At least he would be left with some dignity.
"I've got a couple of clients coming for riding lessons," Jamie said evenly. "And I have to work on the stallion."
"I could come over and wait."
"No, I don't want you near my clients. They'll get nervous about their riding if you're there."
"I don't see why?" Michael protested. "I'm not going to..."
"Behave yourself, Michael," Jamie cut in. "You're the son of an earl, a lord in your own right. We're poor, dumb peasants. If you want to see me, I'll come to you. Ten-ish, at your mother's greenhouse?"
"That's great, thanks. Jamie, I'm sorry; I forget about the title."
"Aye, well maybe that's because you're not an arse. I'll see you later."
Michael was elated; Jamie liked him. He was coming to see him and it wasn't just because of sex. He felt his cock stir and hoped that sex was going to play a part in the evening too. He reminded himself that he was going to have to tread carefully. Jamie wasn't his and if he came on too strongly then he was going to risk losing everything. He wondered at the difference in both of them, they had both changed since the previous summer, and not just physically. Michael still spent too much time in his fantasy world, though. It allowed him to escape from the realities of too many problems to let him part with it easily. Even now, when he was waiting for Jamie in the real world, he was also waiting for his king to come home.
Jamie was ardent. He didn't say hello to Michael; he kissed hello, his tongue demanding and his hand already rubbing Michael's cock through his chinos. He smelt of fresh air and Eternity after-shave and tasted of toothpaste. Michael kissed him back and got an erection - fast.
"Is it safe here?" Jamie asked breaking away.
"Safer up in the guardroom."
"There's no way I can climb all those stairs carrying this," he said, and put Michael's hand on his hard-on. "Come on, there's a solid wall at the back and those boxes will hide us." He pulled Michael after him, but Michael wasn't complaining; he'd never turned on so fast in his life.
Jamie kissed him again but it was perfunctory; he was far more interested in getting Michael's trousers and briefs down.
"Hold up your shirt," Jamie told him and knelt down.
Michael stood in the half-light his shirt bunched up in his hand and his trousers and briefs round his ankles while Jamie went down on him. Jamie knew exactly what he was doing and it seemed like only seconds before Michael was clamping his head with his free hand and thrusting his raging prick down Jamie's willing throat. He was afraid someone might overhear them and it was agony not to make any noise, but also part of the pleasure. He bucked hard and lost control of a deep groan as he shot his load.
Jamie was so primed that he was gasping and pumping out his hot spunk almost before Michael had started.
"Thanks," Jamie told him as he pulled up his Levi's. "I needed that. I've been thinking about it for hours."
Michael grinned. "My pleasure."
They made their way through the deserted family chapel and up onto the battlements. The sky was stunning, the horizon red and the clouds ringed with pink and gold, and they stood looking at it for a moment before looking at each other. Their kiss was gentle, tender, and when it ended, Jamie looked into Michael's eyes and smiled.
"You're my king," Michael whispered.
Jamie frowned and Michael felt the distance between them grow into miles.
Michael stood alone on the battlements trying to gather his thoughts before he followed Jamie into the guardroom. At least Jamie hadn't just left, even if he hadn't said a word.
Michael had already lit candles before their meeting and Jamie stood in flickering shadow watching the last embers of the day. He turned and Michael had never seen him look more beautiful. He really did look like a young Celtic king. His whole bearing proclaimed it, and his deep, dark eyes seemed to hold all the despair of a defeated nation. He sat down on the old throne without thinking about it and Michael's heart swelled.
"You're my king," Michael said again, and held his head up despite the tears.
"Michael?" Jamie's low-pitched voice was gentle, and Michael brushed away the tears and sat down on the bed.
"It's a game I play, only it isn't really a game. It's..." He shook his head, trying to find the words. And then he told him, all of it - everything. He spoke of his desperately lonely childhood, of how he'd yearned to be allowed to play with the village children, and of the dreams he'd had that they had accepted him. He told him how he'd created his own world, up here, in this room and on the battlements. And of everything that involved. He left nothing out.
He explained how much he hated boarding school, and of how he'd discovered the only way he could both fit in and keep himself apart from the boys he despised was to excel, in sports and academically.
He talked of the horror he'd felt when he began to realise he was gay, of how he'd tried to hide it from himself, of how frightened he'd been of being found out, and about the problems that were going to surface when his father became aware of it.
"But it's not just my father, is it? It's here, The Highlands. Being gay is just not accepted. Look what happened to that artist out at Inverbank; they damn nearly killed him."
Jamie nodded but still didn't speak, and for a moment Michael hesitated about going on, but he'd gone too far to stop now.
"I love you," Michael said quietly. "I've always loved you. Even when I was a little boy." And he told him about it. He even told him when he'd first begun to masturbate while fantasising about him, and that he'd watched him through the telescope and masturbated then as well.
Jamie leaned his head back against the throne and closed his eyes. His face was expressionless.
"I'm sorry, Jamie," Michael said, but he was calm. He'd talked with complete honesty and without any trace of self-pity and no matter what came of it, the sheer relief of having opened his heart to another human being was incredible.
End of Part Four