The Lord's Pageboy

The ducal carriage of Lord Roddenham drove through the little village in a grandeur that was in stark contrast to the poor ramshackle cottages and buildings of the village, the streets were filthy with mud and human and animal excrement all mixed into a noxious mixture that the townspeople were familiar with and thus were unprepared for the various diseases that were thus transmitted and promulgated through their ranks on a regular basis. The carriage moved with some difficulty through a smaller side street which was not designed for a coach-and-four and the carriage pulled up to a small house just like several others in the village. These houses were built close together and often shared walls, but if you crossed an outer street you would find yourself in vast open fields and pristine woods where grain grew and pheasants flew and the misery of the town was in a similar contrast to these lands, the Duke's lands, upon which they labored for the scraps of the product he allowed them.

The door of the carriage was opened by the single footman who had accompanied the driver and the single passenger in the vehicle stepped out onto the cobblestones, dressed in the finest of garments, a tunic bearing the ducal arms, (argent, bar dexter purpure, two roses, gules, on their stems, vert) of the Duke, and bearing before his nose a pomander, which was a small cup-shaped bouquet of blue flowers which were supposed to be a barrier against disease. He walked to the door and opened it without knocking, which meant that his entrance to the house was a surprise to the occupants who had not heard the carriage's arrival over the noises of the villagers.

Before the fire tending to the pot cooking there of medicinal herbs, was a man dressed in simple brown peasant garb, dark brown tunic and lighter brown hose, kneeling on one knee as he stirred the brew. He turned his head at the sound of the door and stared.

The passenger, a small boy, lowered the pomander and smiled. "Father!"

The man, Grimmon, stood and his expressionless face (worn by any peasant when faced with the noble class) turned into a smile. "Piotr!" He cried gladly and held out his arms.

The boy ran to those arms and they embraced, regal child and humble man, the broad shoulders and powerful muscles of the peasant were strong enough to do what they did, which was to encircle the lad, and lift him bodily into the air with a happy cry! "Piotr, my son, my child! How have you been?"

"I am well, father." Piotr said and he motioned to the footman who had brought in the lad's small chest. "I heard of my mother's illness and have brought her healing herbs from the duke's own supply with his blessing and I have his permission to remain with you three days while I help you with her needs."

The man's face fell. "I am grateful but I fear you may be too late. She sleeps and her few times of wakefulness are filled with pain. Come, she is in the next room and Goodwoman Mara tends to her."

The boy went with his father to his mother's bed, and the truth was all too clear. The woman in the bed was insensible and the woman tending her mopped her fevered face with cool well water helplessly.

The neighbor, a woman skilled in the arts of medicine, turned and stopped the pair in their tracks. "You cannot let this child near her. He has too delicate a disposition to be near one in this straits, the humors may be breathed out by her and enter him. Quick, lad, the pomander, use it while you are here, and stay only briefly. She is in a deep sleep and cannot hear or see you. I would not have you carry such humors with you to the lord's household."

The boy did, holding the flowers before his nose and he stared at the woman who had borne him but whom he had not seen for over two years. Death was far too common for him to be too distraught at this, though no child wishes to see their parent die, it happened more often than not, most children were orphans before they themselves attained the age of maturity. His father had been one of the fortunate, having a strong constitution and healthy nature, the diseases that ravaged so many of the populace seemed to avoid him, and the lad looked and knowing his words would be useless, let himself be led out of the room again by his father.

Goodwoman Mara came with them out of the room. "You should tend to your son during his stay here." she said, as she noted the baggage he had brought indicated a stay of some days. Why don't you two take my house and I will remain here and tend to Larita and you can keep your son company and safe from the humors of his mother. If she wakens I shall fetch you to come see her."

Grimmon nodded at the sense of this and the two went out into the street, the man shouldering the baggage (the small chest left behind for Goodwoman Mara to use, there was also a somewhat larger cloth bag that held the child's clothing and other goods) and carrying it. There were several townspeople who watched their former neighbor and his father with some astonishment and more than a bit of envy.

Every four or five years, the Duke would summon the villagers to his estate and they were told to bring their younger boys for his consideration. He would look them over and then select one of them, and this boy was taken with him to his estate for the duty of becoming his new pageboy, a duty of being the one who fetched him drink or food when he required it, or other small necessities to prevent him from having to go get it himself, to call to the stablemen to arrange for his carriage to be brought around, for the servants to come attend him, and such small duties.

The boy thus chosen was lucky for, in return for these small duties, he was well cared for and fed from the duke's own table as he was permitted to dine on the remnants of the meals which were always sufficient and then some, and then retired at the same time as the Duke to accompany him to his personal quarters, there to aid the Duke in the matters of his bedroom and bath, aiding him in washing and cleansing himself, and the readying of his bed. The parents received a small stipend during this time, and the child after he had grown some, was replaced and put to other duties about the house of the Duke or sent to one of his estates to labor, a life far preferable to the labors of the villagers of the peasants of this village he called home. Piotr was his most recent choice, having been selected for the duties only eighteen months before at the age of six.

Piotr had brought in his bag not only his clothes but a bag of delicacies from the Duke's kitchen the cooks had prepared for him to take on his journey, and another smaller bag held the silver he had gained from various noble callers who wished to be given entrance to the Duke and information about him, and the boy had skillfully plied such with false knowledge and his own opinions to the Duke as to the caller, which the Duke had come to value, for Piotr was a clever child and skilled at spotting those who were in search of favors who deserved them, and those who did not.

Grimmon was happy to have these delicate foods and chose some to take to his ailing wife, then returned to share the rest with his fortunate child. He talked to the boy of his own life and of the child he asked questions about the Duke's household and his duties.

They passed their day in such conversation, amid which the child had his chance to speak with his mother, who weakly patted his face and begged him to be good and serve the Duke well and then she fell back into her slumber. The child's face was grave when they left, for he could see as well as any that this was an illness from which his mother would not recover.

He recovered his good humor as his father and he talked by the fire, for the warm weather of spring still held quite cold nights, and he looked over at the single bed they would be sharing these nights.

Grimmon saw his son looking and he said, "It is a small bed, but we can manage, and you no doubt are used to sharing a bed with the Duke, are you not, though his bed is larger, you and he must cuddle in the nights at times, yes?"

"I attended the Duke in the evening and helped him with his bath and his bedding." Piotr told his father. His eyes went to the bathtub and he smiled. "Would you like me to perform those duties for you this night, my father? You could use a bath, I think."

Grimmon lifted a broad arm to sniff his pit. "Yes, I am overdue. Goodwoman Mara has a tub and the well is but a handful of steps from the door, let us draw a bath and you can show me how the life of a duke is different from my own."

He insisted on helping the child draw the water from the well, which was good for he could haul four buckets to the boy's one and the tub was soon filled and the goodwoman's cauldron was filled with water to be heated for the bath. An hour later, the tub was ready.

Grimmon stood and looked around, the single room was all this long-widowed woman had. "I needs must undress before you." he said somewhat shyly.

"The Duke let me undress him, Father, let me do the same for you." He had to use a stool to pull the long shirt over the man's broad shoulders and the muscles thus exposed were those any warrior would look in envy, though they had not been formed in combat but from labor in the fields where manpower was literally the power of the male flesh to work the soil. Done, the boy then moved his hands over the muscles, the work of a masseur, to flex and relax the muscles. The man made small grunts of pleasure at his son's hands. "You are talented indeed, I see why the Duke favors you as I have been told." He had received updates from the servants as they came to shop in the village markets from time to time, and knew his son was prospering and healthy and he could pass messages thus.

"I shall bathe you." the boy told him. "Now let me shed your shoes and remove your hose."

The shirt had been long enough to cover the hose's tops, which were bunched up at the man's waist, two separate leggings both tied at the waist to form the covering for the body below the navel. The boy untied the simple knot easily enough (it was only meant to hold, not bind forever) and the leggings, of wool, slid fairly easily down the man's muscled legs, and the man was thus bare in the eyes of the child.

The boy saw the large organ of his father lying limp in the middle, and smiled at it. "You are more well-built than the Duke, in more ways than your arms and legs." he admired.

The father smiled. "I have what I was born with, and you may hope that yours will grow to such a size in your own prime." he agreed.

The boy reached up to grasp it and fondle it intimately and the man was startled. "Your touch on me is not what I am used to!" he gasped. "Even your mother has never touched me in this way."

"It is how I was taught." the boy replied smoothly. "The Duke says that playing with this helps his blood to circulate more heartily and keeps his heart in good order."

"I...can see how this would do such." the father gasped. Both man and son were innocent of any knowledge of this being wrong, it was simply alien to the man's world and simply familiar to his son's training at the duchy's mansion. For this reason, the man's prong rose to fully engorged and stiff and the boy's hand played up and down it, pumping the rod with firm grip and smooth motions that brought the man's pulse to beating rapidly and his breath to speed up. Grimmon's cock, long languishing unsated in his woolen trousers, was panting eagerly as it drooled large globs of precome which dripped out in thick gray teardrops that dangled down on long greasy chains until they broke and splatted into the water.

"You not only have a man's tool greater than the Duke's, but it is more filled with the liquids of man's pleasures." Piotr declared. "He produces only small bits of this but you are raining into the water with your joy at my fondling."

"You move me better than I could do myself." Grimmon panted. "I could spend an eternity like this and call it Heaven though there are no angels or golden clouds about."

The boy stopped after a short time, though, and his hands moved to massage the man's legs up and down. This went on for a while, with the boy returning to the man's cock whenever it grew slack and limp and pumped it up to firm rigidity once again.

"The water should be warm enough now." the boy judged. He took the cooking pan with a handle the widow used and ferried the steaming water to the bath in steady quick paces, while the man watched, his breath still raised and his chest rising and falling. He knew these sensations were those of sex but his religious training had spoken nothing in detail of this, he only knew that the boy had raised in him desires he had not slaked since the beginning of his wife's illness some ten days before.

"Now if you will step into the bath, father, I may begin." the boy replied.

As the man moved, he saw his son disrobing with practiced, easy motions. "Do you plan to become naked yourself?" he asked.

"I need to if I am to give you a proper bath." the boy replied and the man acquiesced. He settled into the tub and the boy came over and stepped into the tub as well.

Grimmon regarding his son's young tool of a size smaller than his own by a great margin but great for a boy of his age. "You are truly my child and your manhood in its infancy declares that." he said as the little stiff rod bobbled up and down in the air as the child moved. Your globes of love's desire are larger, too, than any other child's I have seen, you have every right to be proud and I think the Duke saw this and it was why he chose you above your peers at the selection." His own cock bobbed and barked with precome in eagerness to play with the boy's puppy-dick.

“I am grateful for your words, my father, for when I am with the Duke, his only words are commands on how I must perform and how I must please him and I am left wondering if I am even worthy of being there from some things he says. You have shown me that this is not true and I feel braver now that I know this is not my doing but his, that he is incapable of showing me any affection, but you, my father, my large, handsome, wonderful father, you know me as something that is convenient when your cock is hard, and where with him, my cock stays soft and weak, with you I am strong and hard and I am eager to do all things with you I do with him, but with eagerness and energy, not in reluctant cooperation.”

"I fear the Duke's tub may be larger than this one." the man said. "My body fills it completely and you will need to sit on my lap, I think."

"The Duke permitted me to sit on his lap to do my work." the boy said as he stepped nude into the tub. "I will now moisten your body so I can apply the soap sparingly. Too much soap will dry out your skin." He sat down on his father's left knee and the water made the weight simple to bear. This also put the boy's own upper leg brushing his erection.

The man let the boy ply the wet rag over his body, from his face and neck and down both shoulders, the boy was interested more in wetting his skin than scrubbing him, then the boy took the wet cloth and scrubbed soap into it and then moved over the body again. This time he did scrub and the man felt the hands feeling all of his body intimately. His memory of the boy's hand on his rod was kept alive and his cock stayed stiff through all of this.

When the rag reached the underwater level the boy stopped and sluiced water on the upper part to wash the soap away from his body and scrubbed to wipe it all away. The man felt the hands as well were fondling his body as the fingers moved in a way to tickle his nipples and brush his armpits with a touch that caused his desire to blaze.

He was panting heavily as Piotr finished with his upper body and the boy said, "Now, next I would do your hair but I think you'd rather I finish the next part first."

"What is the next part...oooh!" Grimmon gasped as the boy put the re-soaped rag into the water and grasped his manhood firmly. He lathered the prod and the surrounding bush of pubic hair still underwater and then he lavished the balls as well. Done, his bare hand worked the fingers to flush the soap into the water and the fingers thus tickled his balls and stroked his testicles until they were raging and firm against the base of the shaft.

"Now it is time for you to rise for me." Piotr told his father. "Stand before me in the water and I shall give you release."

Panting, the man stood and his body was lithe and muscled and glowing in the light of the fire with golden arcs delineating his body. The man's dong was at full attention, a powerful thick eight inches of hard daddy dick, and the boy took it reverently in his hand and leaned forward to suck it into his mouth.

His mouth was talented and expert, and he slid with smooth ease and well-lubricated mouth and throat down over two-thirds of the shaft's length before he stopped, then his mouth gripped and he rode back up the length with the cockskin firmly in his grip, and Grimmon moaned, his hands moved down to grip his son's head and the boy began to nurse the prod vigorously. As his father's desire rose, the boy abated it by leaving the pulsing rod to lick and toy with the man's hairy thick-skinned balls, tasting them and taking them into his mouth to suck out all the pungent, virile fluids they held captive in the thick brush of his pubic hairs.

Grimmon bent over to reach with a long arm his son's own rod and balls of joy and he fondled, caressed and teased the young prick until the boy was panting as he slurped on the man's increasingly enraged cock, and his father's grunts of pleasure grew and grew in urgency as the gates of ecstasy began to open wide.

Grimmon had not lied about his long abeyance from sex, he was loaded for bear and his fondling over this period had raised him closer to his peak than was healthy for a man, and he lasted only a few minutes of steady nursing by his son's lips before he groaned and squirted a long, hot, heavy load into his son's throat. The boy held on and gulped down the luscious man-sauce with hearty delight and even after the man was done and his climax was fading, he kept working his lips back and forth steadily until he had milked the man's rod most firmly. As the lad drank the last of the succulent sauce from his father's column of male joy, he shuddered in his own little orgasm at his father's continued tickling/nurturing/fondling of his little rod of delight.

Panting, weakly, the man sank down and Piotr stepped out of the tub and let his father go down into the water on his knees. He bent his father's head over and commenced a patient scrubbing of the man's thick brown-toned locks and he had soon a hearty lather. Bidding his father to step out of the tub, he had the man bend over the tub where he could sluice the soap out of his hair and scrub the remnants as well.

His father was led over to the fire to let the warmth dry his body naturally and the man stood with the warm glow washing over him and he looked at his son, standing nude beside him similarly drying, with wonder.

"Did I please you with my bathing of you, my father?"

"Yes, my dearest child, you have shown me a joy I never knew could be. Your mother was devoted to me but could never even when well bring me to such joy as you have shown me in this short time."

"I am glad I pleased you, my father. Your seed is of a potent nature and though not as sweet as the Duke's, it holds more of the potent male flavor that only a man can provide, it is something he aspires to be, and you are that without the least trying." The boy sighed, "And your pleasuring of me, too, this is something the Duke never did, he was never very unkind, but I was in his bed only to please him and my own pleasure was not to be considered or acted upon. I was forced to please myself in the times I could make for my own and they are few and short."

"I pleased you," Grimmon said softly, "because I love you."

"And I love you, my father. That is also something the Duke does not and can not give me. Already he speaks of the one he will choose to replace me and I think that hour and day is not long to be coming. When he does, he will place me in the stables or in the kitchen, and then the servants will take their joys with me as they have the one I replaced, and I fear that day for some of them are cruel and unkind, though others are gentle and pleasant."

"I pray that day is long in coming." Grimmon said. "Does the Duke take you to his bath in this way every night?" he asked.

"Nay, the Duke washes thus only once a week, lest his body's oils become too dried out." the boy explained. "But he is virile enough to not let that be the end of his evening's pleasures with me, and in the bed there are many more nights than not that he takes me for his pleasure in many ways."

"He does? But what else is there than what we have done?" Grimmon asked. A total innocent who had had to be schooled by his mother in how to make love to his new wife Larita in the "missionary position," all that the things the boy was doing with him was novel and unexpected. He knew nothing of feeling guilt or a sense of wrong here, this was pleasure and there was little enough of that in this world.

"Now that you are clean, and so am I," Piotr had cunningly washed himself while dealing with his father, one hand busy on his father's body and the other dealing with the lesser chore of washing himself, "the time has come for you to be taken to bed. I shall enter the bedding first to warm the sheets and blankets for you."

Grimmon watched his son walk over to the bed and was seized with a sudden desire to run over, grab his son's young body and...and do what? His innocent mind was empty of the answer to that. He stood where he was, though his inner spirit champed at the bit.

Piotr was not lying idle in the bed, he moved about to let his warm body reach all over the bed's surface. After some five or six minutes of this, he said, "Now, my father, it is time for you to join me in here, that I may warm your own body through the night and when the fire has died away to embers." The child's cock was again stiff and bobbing in front of him in its constant urge to play again and again.

Grimmon and Larita had created the child when Grimmon was only seventeen years of age, the common age for the peasant men to take a wife being fifteen, and the boy was their third child and the first and only of seven to live more than a score of days. The life of a peasant was only some forty-five years on the average and often cruelly less by many years, so that an elder woman like Goodwoman Mara was as rare as a unicorn. Grimmon was in his body's prime and only twenty-five years of age, and good harvests for the last several years had given him a body strong and well-formed.

He slid into the bed and his son's body was there and warm and the sheets were warm and he felt like he had been folded into the wings of an angel. His son's arms went around him and he held the child to him and he kissed those lips that had so recently surrounded his dong and milked him to an intense orgasm and drained him so dry he wasn't sure he would get another erection for a year or more.

But his son's arms were around him and the body pressed against him and he felt his cock give lie to his belief, for it surged and he felt his passion rekindling and his kiss became more demanding and filling. He opened his mouth in the kiss and felt his son's tongue sliding in to fondle his own, he extended his and the boy caught and sucked it in greedily, to suckle the soft organ dry of his mouth's moisture. He moved his hands and one slid to the boy's buttocks and pulled the boy's body to his and the boy's young organ fetched up against his to touch and brush against his own. He found his own hard, throbbing erection was pressed against the boy's smaller but just as rigid and eager hardon.

Piotr took the touch and grunted and his motions began to scrub his little prick against the man's heavier dong, and the rubbing of them sent waves of delight through their bodies so that they shivered as they rubbed, the seeds of passion sprouting within them both. He brushed his little balls up and down the shaft so that they tickled the man's own testicles, then climbed up to dance on the glans, treating the perineum that began at the glans as a sort of track upon which they slid like a sled upon a polished wooden track that kept it straight and aided its movement.

Grimmon retrieved his saliva-drained tongue and lifted up to face his son in the light of the firelight, and he smiled and let a glob of his spit form on the tonguetip and Piotr grinned and in a flash he reached up like a fish biting at bait and his lips fetched it off and he swallowed it triumphantly. He then extended his own tongue to his father. Grimmon moved down and the soft flavor of the boy's mouth was influenced by the lush load of his own jizz the boy had recently ingested, it was a salty, tangy sauce softened with the sweet flavor of the boy's own saliva, and he moaned and his hips began to rub back against the boy's cock and the glans stabbed once at the boy's navel and hung there for a moment before he pulled back, and the hairy nuts of the man bathed the boy's entire cock and balls with their sweaty brushes of male musk. His prick, ever vigilant, streamed more of his voluptuous peasant semen out to coat the boy's dick and nuts and the boy moaned and rubbed and the precome spread itself to deliver joy to both man and son. Grimmon groaned and his hips were swiveling to gain more and more pleasure from the friction, the boy's moans were matched by the child weaving and thrusting back in a practiced motion that matched his father's in a way to maximize the joy that the pleasure was not doubled, but trebled or more. Their sighs of pleasure made a soft vocal symphony that wafted through the humble hut and turned it into a gentle glowing miniature paradise of male delight.

Grimmon was moaning in a high urgency that declared his climax was near when the boy moved again, he had assiduously and secretly applied some sort of oil to his anus, and the man found the boy astride his body and the tip of his dong being pushed into the boy's young sphincter. The way was greased and smooth and the man moaned as the anus flexed and spread and he sank onto his father's long rod with an easy expertise.

"Oh, oh, the Duke has taught you so many things I never thought possible." Grimmon panted. "He makes he want to keep you with me at all times and never let you return to him."

"I must." the boy panted. "He seeks me every night and sometimes in the afternoon, and I must go to him. He is generous to you and to me."

"Then let us take these three days and make it a lifetime." Grimmon groaned. "I have you with me and the goodwoman to care for your mother, and we can spend our every waking hour together like this."

"Then let our time begin." the boy said and his hips moved and he slid up and down the man's shaft, driving the huge prong in and out of his young, athletic ass. Grimmon was enraptured by the delight and he watched the boy plying his anal magic on his prod, and he had never heard or known this sort of delight was even possible. It was all new and delightful an adventure of flesh and his son had traveled it before and was ready to lead him through the trails.

His passion took him over and he moaned and began to thrust upwards. His son moved and he realized the intent and they rolled over and he was now on top of his son and he drove his dong in and out with a heavy passion he had not displayed with his own wife even, for she was a timid thing and demanded the utmost gentleness with him. Not Piotr, he moaned and begged his father to do it more, more, faster, faster, father, drive it into me, more, more! He hammer-fucked the child and the small bed creaked alarmingly and it was held together with wood spikes in lieu of nails and the bed protested but the man and boy on the bed ignored it.

They kissed again as he continued to pole-drive the rod into his son's anus, and they kissed and their lips, mouths and tongues exchanged saliva as they kissed, sucked, nipped and brushed over each other over and over.

Passion clawed at Grimmon's brain and he moaned and his body was overwhelmed and he drove his pole into his son's ass deep as he could and he threw back his head and roared as he squirted a second heavy, pungent load of his hot man-spooge into his son's soft anus. Piotr at the same time moaned and shivered and quivered as he sustained his own young boyish climax and the two finished together and Grimmon sank onto his son's body and groaned and heaved as his breath clawed to suck in enough air to recover.

"And now it is time for you to sleep." Piotr told him.

"I am still within you." Grimmon demurred.

"I like it there." Piotr sighed. "Let us sleep like this and see if it stays inside me until morning, and if in the meantime you wish to use me again, I will be right here."

"The Duke is a very lucky man." Grimmon sighed.

"And I am a very lucky son."

"I wish we could remain together." Grimmon said. "I am pleased you are doing well but now I know how much I miss you."

"The Duke hires men from time to time to serve him." Piotr said. "When I hear of such, I shall see if he will bring you in with him. I could maybe get you work in the stables or as a guard for him."

"Maybe." Grimmon sighed. He was nearly asleep.

"We shall see." Piotr agreed, similarly somnambulant.

The two slumbered in the light of the dying fire, and the days ahead reached out as if they were an eternity.

Grimmon awoke in the night and found that his cock had fallen out of his son's little anus but was, thanks to some errant nocturnal dream, hard and eager for more lovemaking. He was on his side as was his son, the boy's body spooning into the curve of his own chest waist and legs which were on either side of his son. The boy lay slumbering and he did not wish to awaken the child but his need was strong and his lust having been unslaked for many days due to his Larita's increasing inability to accept his advances, he moved stealthily. He spat and rubbed saliva on his son's inner thighs and on his own cock until both were fully slickened up and then he carefully slid his dong between the boy's thighs close to the buttocks, and the tip of his glans brushed over the bottoms of the child's young nuts. Piotr murmured but did not waken as he did this.

His cock now firmly in place, he began to move his hips back and forth in a gentle rocking motion and the friction of the boy's small thighs, but as his pleasure increased he began to rub faster. He felt the soft perineum of the boy's lower body between his testicles and anus, and the little ripple of joined flesh tickled the top of his dong as he moved, almost featherlike.

He grunted and moved quicker, his passion consuming him when his son jerked, then settled down and began to murmur softly words of encouragement to his father's lusty thrusts.

"Ah, ah, Father, it is good, so good!" Piotr said as he shivered at the thrill of the hard shaft sliding back and forth under his dong. "Where did you learn this?"

"When I was a child, I and my cousin would do this at times." Grimmon grunted. "I knew not how this would work as an adult, but it is even more pleasurable to me."

"The Duke has done this to me one time or two." Piotr said. "But never did his thrusts thrill me as yours does. Pray, my father, kiss me as we do this for I hunger for your lips.

Grimmon caught his son's head and pulled it back and his own face forward and he kissed his child in desperate, yearning passion and his tongue slid into the boy's mouth to be suckled and devoured of its saliva, and the boy groaned and the pleasure they had was thus extended in their love for each other.

Piotr reached down and caught the tip of his father's glans as it thrust out and held his hand in place so that the cock could pierce the circle of fingers at each stroke inside, and this increased the pleasure of his glans and he moaned, his cock exploding spunk between the boy's leg. His glans had been sliding along the boy's shaft all this time and he felt the boy shiver in his own climax at the same time, and it was like his son was ejaculating out of the bed to splatter onto the wooden floor. Piotr squirmed around so they could kiss each other easier and they spent some time in doing this, their tongues and mouths and lips busy entering and enjoying each other.

At last, Grimmon panted and said to his son, "I see the Duke has not taught you everything in how to please a man. Still, I think there are other things you can show me."

"I can and I will, if you are ready." Piotr did not wait for an answer but felt for and caught his father's dong, which surged to stiff readiness in his grip. "I see that you are."

"And always will be." Grimmon said and they kissed some more while Grimmon caught his son's rod and they slowly masturbated each other. "Still there is much I do not know. Can you teach me while I teach you?"

"Of course and let me start here and now." Piotr guided the fat rod toward his own little pud and pushed it into the cockskin of his father. When done, he gripped them both tightly. "Now feel the joy of our cocks kissing as we climax." he said as he began to pump them in earnest.

"Allow me." Grimmon said and his hand, larger and more powerful, was able to pound the paired puds with energy and power. His large urethra managed to capture the lips of the boy's smaller dong and engulfed it within, and as the precome surged out, it coated the boy’s little glans and increased his pleasure from the warm feel of the thick fluid. The boy moaned, "Oh, Father, when you come, it's going to shoot right up inside me!"

"Yes, inside you, all the way inside." Grimmon murmured as his glory built. "I am near to my completion, my son, feel my love flow inside you and fill you to your own delight."

"Better than the Duke, my father, you are far better than he ever was." Piotr murmured. The boy reached under them to find and fondle his father’s large, lucius, hairy nuts and the man moaned as he felt the soft fingers teasing his testicles with soft brushing strokes and he gasped, "Oh, oh, oh, oh, my moment is nigh!"

"Do it, my father, oh, oh, do it now, please, now!" Piotr gasped.

Grimmon grunted and his delight struck. "Ahhh-ahh-AHH-AHH-UHHH-HUNNNN-GUNNNHHHHH!"

"Oh, father, oh, oh!"

The power of the spray was far more than the boy's little wiener could take but as the spunk flowed around the glans, some did indeed flush into the boy's urethra and the boy's eyes widened and he gasped and constricted in his own glory.

Grimmon pumped a vigorous load and when he released his grip, an explosion of jizz blasted over both their lower bodies from the compressed chamber his cockskin had formed within his own grip. He covered them with sticky spooge and the boy gripped him firmly and the spunk glued them together as they kissed and kissed and kissed again, their tongues mingling, their saliva flowing into and over each other, and they sucked and moaned, swallowed and groaned as their mouths enjoyed each other in their now-spent passion's glow.

As they kissed, their mouths slowed, their hearts rested, their limbs relaxed and they slept thus joined by sticky drying spooge that kept them together until the glow of dawn reached up its lithe glorious fingers into the night sky and scared the stars away.

There was an urgent knock on the door that morning and Grimmon woke, moved, found himself sticky and naked, and hastily wrapped the blanket around himself and answered.

"Goodwoman Mara?"

"Come, hastily, your woman is awake and calling for you. I fear she is on the doorstep of death!"

"I'll be right there." Grimmon said, all the joy of the night submerged. He and his son had played while his beloved Larita had suffered? He felt guilty but stirred himself to quick motion. He and Piotr dressed quickly and hastened to the hut where she lay.

"Grimmon? Piotr?" she said in her weakened fluttering voice.

"I am here, my love." Grimmon knelt and took her feeble hand and pressed it to his cheek.

"Piotr?"

"I am here, my mother." Piotr stood by his father's side so she could see him, his little face somber. Grimmon put his arm around the child who clung to him as he watched his mother, frail and weak and withered.

"This is my final day and the Good Lord has blessed me with this time to talk." she said and panted. "I am glad you have rejoined. My husband, do not let the Duke take him from you again. You will only have each other from this day forward. Please, my husband, promise me you will not let him be separated from you again."

"I swear." Grimmon said as he felt the hand fall from his face and slide from his hand.

"I am at peace." Larita murmured and she closed her eyes and was gone.

Death came too often to the small village, and the rituals were sped up as the preservation of the body was not to be had by the poor. A priest was summoned and said the last rites and the body was then carried with Grimmon and Piotr following and the other villagers who joined in or bowed their heads and said prayers where they were before returning to their tasks, for the village must go on. A grave was one of several which were kept pre-dug and Larita was laid to rest by her father and mother in one such pre-dug grave wrapped in a white shroud and the dirt was covered over her. A final rite was said, a stone bearing her name was laid atop it, and the rite was done. It was not yet afternoon when they were done.

The bedsheets upon which she had died were burned in case the death had been by plague, and new ones were provided by the local merchants (for a price of course) and Piotr exhausted his small store of silver in paying for all of this, but it was enough, at least. Done, he and his father were left alone in their hut, a stew brewing on the firepit but otherwise left to them to handle.

In a world where death was a fact of life, grief can manifest itself in unusual ways. Father and son looked at each other in their new privacy and at once they rushed at each other, their faces met and they kissed hard, their faces grinding into each other, their tongues aggressively siphoning off the saliva of the other, their bodies almost tearing their clothes off each other. They were down soon to only their undergarments, a soft cotton weave formed into a kind of panties held at the top not by elastic but by a small cord that was tied to their midwaist. Their cocks were loose within these undergarments and flopped about in freedom, stiff and hungry.

It was enough. Grimmon took his son to the bed so recently occupied by his dying wife (and the only bed they had) and laid his son upon it and laid himself on top, their cocks meshed and rubbing each other through their loose cotton garments, their bodies clutching frantically as they ground each other in a rapid frantic, frenetic motion that drove their passion through the skies in a fireball of ecstasy.

Piotr reached his orgasm first and his son writing in his grip and moaning in ecstasy triggered Grimmon's own climax, and he moaned, and the hot jizz soaked first his own cotton briefs and then his son's, and soon both were damp with sweat and come and breathless with spent passion and their lips, which had never quit kissing, soaked with saliva and desire and Grimmon tiredly pulled his tongue out of Piotr's mouth and rolled to his side and they rested, panted, exhausted. Piotr's time with him was already half over, and Grimmon was determined to make the next 36 hours his son's most delightful time of his life.

There was the tradition that the family of a deceased was freed from communal obligations for the day of the funeral and the day following, but after that, they were expected to function with dried tears and no further mourning. Grimmon was given a wreath of blackened leaves to hang on his door, and his fellow commoners left gifts of food and drink on his doorstep, only knocking the traditional two knocks, then three, then departing, so that he could mourn in peace.

This all fit into his own plans very well. They had missed the midday meal so the first knock delivered them plates of food which Grimmon collected and he and Piotr fed on the simple but kind meal, the gruel had meat bits in it. After eating, Grimmon rose, washed the plates and put them back outside for the gift-giver to retrieve, and then turned to his son and extended his hands. Piotr took them both in his own and Grimmon picked him up and kissed his soft, supple lips, enjoying the small tongue and extending his own long one into the boy’s mouth to let him feast upon the grease-coated tongue now flavored with the sauce of their meal. Grimmon then carried him to the bed his late wife had inhabited so recently. A kind neighbor had donated some old but serviceable sheets and made the bed so it waited for them. He placed the boy on the bed in a sitting position, then bent to strip the undergarment from his son and stood and his son did likewise, sliding onto the floor on his knees to perform the task, but staying on his knees and sucked the heavy dong dripping with precome already into his mouth. Grimmon permitted him to siphon the juice from his rod then gently reached to tug him upright.

“I am not a Duke that you would be compelled to do naught but serve my needs.” he said to his son gently. “Let us both get on the bed and you can teach me to please you as you please me.”

Piotr motioned his father into the bed before him and got into the bed with his head facing his father’s legs, so that his little wiener dangled down toward his father’s lips. “You need not do anything you do not wish, Father....” he began, but then Grimmon’s wide mouth reached up and closed upon the young tender pud and the boy’s words ended in a long, low moan. The man was muscled and athletic and he put all of his energy into his movements on the boy’s little dong, and the boy crooned and wavered. His moans ended only when he scarfed down his father’s prick and began to deliver to the man with equal energy the motions of his mouth and tongue to maximize the man’s pleasure. As the man’s happy schlong drooled out its bounty of precome, the boy quickly lapped it up and slurped the glans to suckle out every lovely drop of warm vitality.

The boy panted and said, “It is also pleasurable to suckle on the orbs of manhood.”

“So it is.” Grimmon caught the tiny nuts and sucked them with lips and tongue brushing and laving the boy’s balls with soft wet pleasure. The boy could not match this, but he took first the man’s left testicle and laved it with his tongue and sucked the sweet sweat from the hairs and the velvety thick skin, then attended the same to the right. His father, meanwhile, had begun to suck his dong again and he moaned as he sucked, and the hum of the moan vibrated the man’s ball and he shuddered with the pleasure that aroused.

Piotr, panting, said, “Observe, my father, how pleasant it is for you when I do this to you, as well.” He moved to lick below the balls, to track the soft river of the perineum banked by the hairs as trees near a river, his tongue licked and when it arrived at the soft pond of the anal sphincter, his tongue flowed out to encircle and danced across the soft tuckers of flesh that were so soft and sensitive that his father moaned as though he were dying of the joy it brought. He was quick to give his son the same delight and the boy, who had never experienced this with the Duke, groaned himself such that a passerby would have thought this house contained sufferers of a horrid disease instead of the abode of anal delight.

“Come, my child, and kiss me a moment before we resume, for I would savor this moment of serene pleasure in your company.” Piotr squirmed around, precome clinging to its previous home of the reddened male dong and the boy’s lips, and it formed a grey rope connecting the man’s cock and the boy’s lips for a moment before it bowed low and dripped onto the boy’s chin, there to be rescued and consumed by his father as he arrived at the face. Grimmon then caught Piotr in his arms and kissed the boy’s lips and tongue, this time flavored with the husky musky of his own balls, and the flavor on the childish lips attained a virtue of innocent delight that filled him with desire aflame for his son. His son’s mouth and lips were slippery with his precome and he lapped and sucked the soft flesh and savored the mixture of man and child with their distinct but complementary flavors, the boy’s virginal flesh and his own more heady tastes of precome and anal musk.

He was grunting with his eagerness as he released the lips and the boy, realizing his father’s need, scrambled back to capture the man’s cock and he moved with adroit speed. Grimmon returned the movements of rapid motion on his son and the pair reached their delight at the same moment, and as the boy squirmed in his ecstasy, the man’s hot sperm rushed upwards into his lips and he caught and swallowed some, while other squirts splashed him on his face and laughing eyes and he moved and let the spooge hit him in diverse places and his face was a tattoo of male seed when he returned to kiss his father again.

Grimmon kissed the spunk-splashed face, and his lips sought out the packets of his expended joy and he ferried it on his tongue to his son who sucked upon it blissfully, and he kissed the small eyes and cleansed the lids of the jizz and then pushed it into his son’s mouth to suckle down. He then kissed the boy’s own mouth and tongue and tasted the remnants of sperm there and it too was washed clean by the innocence of his son’s youth and he savored that and felt reinvigorated by the digestif of child’s saliva.

Another knock at the door and Grimmon, satiated and curious as to who would visit him with a gift at this hour of the afternoon, went to see. Someone had brought to him a sweetcake, rich flour and sugar and decorated with colorful little gels of something flavorful. A man of means, therefore, who had seen the Duke’s pageboy coming to visit and wished to garner favor from this quarter if he could. This revelation didn’t prevent him from accepting the packet and taking it to his son.

“This is a mooncake from Differfeld the chef of the Duke.” the boy revealed. “He made these cakes for a holiday not long ago and must have taken the leftover cakes home with him and saved this from that day. It will be safe to eat, as the cake contains a good amount of alcohol to preserve it for a full moon.”

“I have seen them but never tasted one.” Grimmon regarded the sweet with awe. Truly a trifle from the nobleman’s very table, this was!

“Do you wish to taste it now, or wait until this evening to savor with our meal?” asked Piotr.

“I will wait.” Grimmon said with reluctance. “My eyes are hungry but my stomach is full.”

“Take then a bit for a taste and we will have the rest tonight.” Piotr suggested. “I have had them and they are delicious.”

Grimmon pinched off a bite from the treat and took it in his mouth and chewed, closed his eyes. “This is the flavor of the heavenly angel’s.” he sighed. “The Duke lets you eat these all the time?”

“Now and then only.” Piotr said. “But often enough that you may have the entire treat if you will.”

“When has a father ever denied a child a share of anything he has.”

Piotr went over and caught hold of his father’s cock, covered by the undergarment he had donned to open the door. “I would trade them all for a share of this every day.” he said.

Grimmon took the treat and placed it on the shelf by the mantle of the fireplace, and took his son up in his arms again. He kissed the lad, who licked the crumbs from his teeth and lips and sighed as the flavor of the sweet with his father’s saliva was doubly delicious to him. The sweet had an odd effect on Grimmon, he felt charged with a goatish lust and he kissed and nibbled at the boy’s mouth and lips then the ears and nose and chin and neck, almost devouring the boy. The boys’s skin had a flavor he now had a reference for, this child had dined on the better foods for some years so that his very flesh was saturated with the essence of good foods and healthy diet. He felt a sudden pounding desire for his son and snatched him up and carried him back to the bed.

Piotr was a bit astonished by this aggression but he trusted his father and did not resist as the big man peeled off his undergarments (Piotr was still nude) and, kneeling by the bed, pulled the child’s lower body off, the legs around his waist, and aimed his pulsing prong at the child’s young anus. With an almost feral growl, he pushed his prick into the boy’s tiny but well-exercised anus. Piotr was expecting this by now and he was able to adjust and take the rather sharp insertion with only a quick hiss of breath as the powerful pud slid into him.

Grimmon’s thrusts were imperious and heavy at first but as he continued, the mood left him and he began to move in a more gentle and loving way, and Piotr felt this, pulled his father’s face to his and they kissed as the man’s athletic hips continued the rapid in and out motions that now were equally joyful to both father and son. “Oh, oh, Father!” he gasped. “Your need is strong and I know that, but when you have done, I can use this to teach you another thing the Duke had one of his manservants do with me once or twice, which gave me a great pleasure and I would have you feel it as well.”

“Very well.” Grimmon gasped, for his pleasure was growing in him. “I trust you in this as I trust you in everything. Guide me for my joy is upon me.”

“Then take me fully once again.” Piotr crooned as he kissed his father once again. Grimmon’s tongue was firmly held in his mouth as the man climaxed, and the child would not relinquish it, and this inhibited the intake of oxygen, this increased the man’s joy through this partial asphyxiation and the man howled loudly, so loud that the villagers nearby thought that he howled in his grief. They waited and if the howls had continued, would have entered to make sure that he was not falling into madness, but Grimmon’s sounds diminished in a few seconds and they nodded to one another and let him be. A family should be allowed to grieve in peace, but it they came out, any of them would pause their tasks to let their ears and shoulders be used to assuage the pain.

Grimmon had loaded his son with a generous portion of male spooge, and his son panted, he had avoided joining his father in climax though his little pud continued to pulse angrily. “All right, now.” He said. “I will teach you how Felton treated me. You should push your lips to my anus and suck out all of the fluid you can. Go ahead, it will not injure me.”

Grimmon complied, for he trusted his son in this, this was no childish prank to make Daddy kiss his ass. He put his lips to the sphincter and sucked, feeling the sharp flavor of the mixture of spooge and anal fluids on his tongue like small needles too short to do more than make their presence known. He sucked it out and then raised looked up at his son.

“Now.” panted Piotr. “Go back and blow it all inside me again. Then suck it out once more.”

Piotr moaned as the spooge was blown back into him and he groaned again as Grimmon’s powerful lungs sucked out the hot mix. “Oh, oh, Father, you do this much better than Felton! Much better!”

He panted, now, Father, bring me the mixture and give it to my mouth. I will do the same to you.”

Grimmon pushed his lips to his son’s, and the boy sucked the hot fluid into his own mouth, and his small cheeks bulged out like a chipmunk holding nuts, to hold all of the joy juice. He moved with some alacrity as he motioned his father to get into position. Grimmon got his upper body onto the bed, but his knees on the floor and his son went onto all fours to get close to the large, hairy, ass. His tongue had to pry the man’s anus some to work it open, but he managed and then the child blew the salty mix into his father’s bowels.

As Grimmon felt the liquid entering him, he felt his prostate flutter as the fluid flowed past it into his insides. No wonder his child had moaned this way, for he felt all kinds of strange but powerful joys rushing through his body. Once the child had the spunk/butt juice mix inside his father, he sucked it out and the man felt his bowels relaxing from the liquid flow. Once the boy had blown it back inside once again, he moved quicky and the man felt the boy’s small cock slip into the relaxed sphincter.

“Ooh, oh, ohhhh!” he gasped as the little organ thrilled him in a way he had never had before. His son began to quickly thrust at his butt and he only felt joy at this, he was being fucked for the first time in his life, and his own ass was full of his own spunk and the boy’s anal fluids mixing with his own. It made the little cock squelch as the lad rammed his ass, the little dick acting like a piston in a fluid-filled cylinder, and the small squinching sounds were thrilling his bowels and he moaned and gasped and the man felt his own organ arising anew with pleasure. “Oh, oh, Son, I am alive, so alive, I feel life flowing through me and I must release it!

Piotr’s hand moved to make an open palm in front of the man’s glans. “Do it, my father, release the seed and I shall use it to pleasure you the more!”

“AH-AH-AH-AHHH-AHHH-UHHHH!” Grimmon groaned as he spasmed and ejaculated, the hot seed pumping out to be caught in the boy’s hand. As he did, the boy writhed in his own joy and Grimmon felt the little prick pulse and wondered if it was releasing some fluid of its own, he remembered his own earliest years and how his seed when very young was clear as water. The quantity was enough to make him certain his son had injected him with some urine in lieu of the more adult fluids his body would one day produce.

Done, Piotr lapped up the spunk on his hand and pulled his now-flaccid little dong out of his father’s ass and moved down to again blow the seed into his father. Grimmon felt it and moaned as his body gave him an extension of the powerful afterglow of climax, as if the body were still locked in its joy. Piotr sucked it all out again and then blew it inside a second time, and moved up to kiss his father.

Both of them tasted the spooge and anal fluid on their tongues as they played and licked and tasted each other, their saliva salty with the residue of the spunk. Done, they moved into a sixty-nine and put their mouths to each other’s anuses and licked and tasted the spooge and fluid that lingered there, probing their tongues into their relaxed anuses and Piotr fished out a bit of the spooge from his father’s ass to swallow in his gratitude. They moved around and rested and sighed, for the sun was still well in the western sky, sundown was an hour or more to go.

They napped and awoke to the sounds of a festival, some sort of entertainment had come to town and the village was putting together an impromptu communal activity around it. Piotr was eager to see this, and Grimmon and he washed and dressed and went out to see the sights. The villagers were not surprised to see their tears gone and smiles on their faces as they watched the jugglers and acrobats, for death was common enough and they knew his wife had been failing for some time.

The night was nearly half over before the village began to call it a night. Weary for they would have to work again at dawn, they moved away and with them, Grimmon and Piotr moved to go home with them. Tired and weary and happy, they undressed, crawled into bed, cuddled together and with their kisses soft and tender, they said their good nights and fell asleep.

The third day dawned, and the coach would return for Piotr by mid-day. Grimmon awoke to Piotr crying against his chest and he held and comforted the child, patting him and murmuring words of gentle love and concern.

“Oh, Father, I don’t want to go back!” he cried. “I was happy enough when I did not know better, when the way the Duke pleased himself with me, and pleased me at times, was enough for I knew no other way. You have shown me that a love can exist on a level where the pleasure flows for both the same. How can I return to the Duke knowing this?”

“My son, I wish that I could promise you that you could stay with me and never know anything but the pleasure we have had these few days. But this was not the life I could give you. Only your silver and the kindness of our neighbors upon your mother’s death has given us these moments, these few, precious hours. My life is without the time to spend with you or the money to pay for proper food for you. Poor a life as it may be for you, it is better than I can offer. I pray to you, Son, return to the Duke and keep him happy with you as long as you can, and we shall see if we can again steal a few more hours in the coming years to renew this new and loving bond.”

“I’ll try to get the Duke to bring you to his home. He needs gardeners, he needs stablehands, he needs workers. You are young and handsome and strong, he would be lucky to have you. And I could find times to sneak away and spend with you easier.”

“It would be wonderful if you can do it.” sighed Grimmon. “We have these few hours, let us not spend it in dreaming.”

“I agree.” Piotr kissed his father ardently. His tongue twined with his fathers and they writhed and licked and the lips meshed, their saliva flowing from one to the other and back again as the tongues drove the liquid in channels from one direction and then another.

“What is the way you would most like to pleasure yourself in these hours?” His father asked when he could free his lips. “We may not have very long, let me grant your wish now.”

“What I would like most to do, my father, is not what I do or have done with the Duke, which is to have my ass impaled by his fleshly sword, nor to be asked to suck upon it as if it were a tasty sausage, for he allows me little of other joys. I ask that we lie together, me upon you, and we can find our joy by our bodies touching each other.”

His father smiled and rolled onto his back, his son in his arms. His legs spread out so that the boy could slide his own body between them and the boy pressed his little young dong against the lush testicles of his father and let the young rod slide back and forth in the soft fleshy hairy jungle between and on the pair of large boulders of testicles of his father. His father’s prick was strong and pulsing against his young sternum and he felt the thick shaft with its spray of precome forming a slimy snail-trail of hot jizz fluid that the thick column of velvet-coated steel rode back and forth upon as the boy rubbed his father back and forth, up and down. His own little pud was a monorail on the perineum of the scrotum and ran a steady schedule of young boy delight.

Piotr moaned and his young head moved down to cup and encircle the left nipple of his father’s broad chest and he nursed at it as if at the font of good health and energy. Grimmon groaned and his hands moved down to palp the soft buttocks of his son, not controlling their movement, but showing by his strokes and gentle hold and movements of fingers how much he loved their action.

From the nipple Piotr moved over to find the left armpit had built up a generous bounty of male sweat and musk and his mouth caught the sopping hairs and his hungry lips sucked the moisture from them, leaving them pristine and clean in his wake. When he had finished with the hairs, he began to lick the entire area, lapping the wrinkled musky-flavored skin and washing it free of the salt and sweat and perspiration and leaving it dry and clean. Done, he moved to the right armpit and renewed his assault. His young hairless chest slid across the hairs of the mans broad chest and the hairs were like the rails upon which the boy’s body moved, they ended up in uniform rows of side-wise lying strands of hair marking the boy’s path.

Grimmon moaned and his hands pulled his son upwards on his body and this put the boy’s cock atop his own love-sausage and his son moaned and began to slide his prod up and down the soft velvet-clad man-rod and his friction worked the man’s cockskin back and forth, and the boy groaned and his own cock flowed with a bit of acrid liquid that coated the man’s dong, and his father smiled at this boyish attempt to produce precome. Not that Piotr had tried anything, but his body knew what it was supposed to do and did what it could. His little nuts were now buried in Grimmon’s more lush ballsac and they rolled atop and around and upon the man’s larger nuts and the pleasure was distributed between man and boy in soft equal measure.

The boy flagged in his energy and Grimmon understood, held his child to his body and rolled them over so that his broad, lithe athletic body could speed up the scrubbing and rubbing and twisting and rolling of his big, strong dong and thick, slick testicles over the boy’s younger, smaller rod and nuts. Piotr moaned, his hands came up and grabbed Grimmon’s large hairy buttocks and he ground against his father and the man moaned, as he did, in his incipient orgasm, the boy raised up on his left elbow, lifting his body and he threw his head back and he groaned, writhed, squirmed against his father and as he did, Grimmon’s cock exploded, the hot seed spurted out between their bodies and the first three splashes struck his son’s face, first upon the right side of the forehead and reaching down to the boy’s right eye, the second landing upon the left side of the nose and lip, the third splashing against the boy’s chin, and the next and final four sprays struck his left and right shoulders, his left lower ribcage, and the last, a weak spurt, soaked the boy’s little, twitching boy-dick.

Grimmon sighed and sagged against his child beneath him, struggling, he managed to keep from crushing him into the bed and rolled onto his back at the boy’s side and they panted in their shared climax. ‘That was terrific.” Grimmon said. “A wonderful and fitting finish to this brief time.”

“I don’t want it to end!” Piotr cried out, but then he sobered. “But you are wise, my father. I shall speak as I can to the Duke in the days to come, I am yet in his favor and he will listen and hopefully appease me in this for I have asked little of him all this time. We shall see what happens.”

There was a knock at the door, the coach had arrived, too early for it was yet ten o’clock in the morning for the Duke had learned of the death of the boy’s mother, and now the period allotted for grief was over, calling for his boy-lover to be returned forthwith.

Piotr dressed as did Grimmon and the boy donned the clothes he had cast aside for the trip, looking as he finished less a peasant’s son as a ducal heir, and he smiled at his father in his more humble clothing and rushed to his arms and hugged. Grimmon walked his son to the coach, helped him into the coach, and waved farewell until the coach was too far away, when he turned to go to the fields, it was time for him to return to his peasant’s labors, his degree of work would ease the burden of his neighbors for there were few enough for all that needed to be done.

The boy’s entreaties on behalf of his father were accompanied by some more inventive lovemaking of the Duke, who was too pleased with Piotr’s more accomplished seductive moves and granted the boon. Grimmon was brought before him and when the Duke saw the strong, handsome man, he swore that this man must become his personal valet in the upper floors,. This let the man and son spend many hours together as the Duke was about on his lands or in his meetings, and the pair enjoyed many happy hours together. When the Duke was gone on longer journeys as he did on frequent occasions, they even dared to climb into the soft, luxurious sheets and mattress of the Duke’s bed, and the boy found his less pleasant memories of this place to be tempered, softened and faded by the more primal and powerful essence of his father’s warm, virile body. Neither of them realized that the Duke, who was clever and not totally unkind, knew well of this bond and relished upon his return smelling and feeling the hot desire left behind in his sheets, the sweat and musk and soft seminal fluids of the mating of boy and man, it would drive him to call for Piotr and there to love his young body even more energetically and enthusiastically and Piotr, sated by his father’s love, was able and willing to give this rich man his every desire.

When the Duke, some four years later, was caught up in time by his proclivities for younger flesh than the nearly pubescent Piotr to warm his bed, he moved Piotr’s position in his house into being his valet’s assistant. Upon his death, the two discovered he had granted them a bounty of several hundred gold pieces and with this, they were able to leave the Duke’s lands and whatever became of them after that, while unknown, was a fate that they shared in full.

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