English Lads

by Adam Carpenter

  Silence hovered between them. Comfortable silence, because despite the circumstances which had brought them here, the desire which had overwhelmed them, their physical releases indulged in and satiated, a deeper connection had just been established. Jake, touched by what Hunter had revealed, what Hunter had made him divulge, felt the sudden need to kiss him. Sweetly, tenderly. Hunter responded in kind, and both men came together in a building scene of kisses and touches, caresses, petting. Their bodies rolled on the floor, Hunter on top, Jake beneath his bulk, cocks hardening, poking at the other, enticing each other.

  Jake and Hunter found their eyes locked. He read worry in Hunter’s.

  “What is it?” Jake asked.

  “We need to keep moving,” Hunter said.

  “We? Moving? What does that mean?”

  “I mean…I need to stay one step ahead of Junior. I can’t stay here in this flat…heck, I really shouldn’t even be in London. I have to get out of town, and the sooner the better. Once it’s gone really dark.”

  “Oh. Uh, okay,” Jake said, feeling passion drain from his body, from his cock.

  Hunter must have felt it too. “No, no, you misunderstand. Jake, I want you to come with me.”

  “With you? Where?”

  “The Voignier Estate.”

  “Excuse me? Where—and what—is that?”

  “It’s the house…the land Patsy inherited from her deceased husband. On the outskirts of London, not too far,” he said excitedly, sounding suddenly like a kid being told he’s going to Disney World. “A big house, lots of land, a pool, stables…a classic English country manor. Lots of rooms, Jake, lots of place for us to make love.”

  Make love. It had deeper connotations, it drew him hard toward Hunter’s heart. Jake was tempted to just say yes, he’d follow Hunter anywhere. But there was something about this invitation that smacked as…well, planned. And that’s when Jake remembered that everything Hunter had done since they’d met had been pre-planned, orchestrated…shit, and he thought he was OCD.

  “You knew all along,” Jake said.

  “Yes, I knew I had to leave, and that Patsy’s home was my only answer. The only part that wasn’t planned was…you.”

  “So you were planning to screw me here, then leave me.”

  Hunter nodded without embarrassment. “I guess so.”

  “What changed you mind?”

  He paused, as if afraid to reveal what he felt. But then he said, “You did.”

  “How?”

  Hunter leaned forward to kiss him once again, but Jake withdrew before lips could meet, before a simple kiss became a dangerous commitment. He was waiting for an answer.

  “By being you,” was what Hunter said, and if those words hadn’t melted Jake’s defense, the expression locked inside those sparkling eyes would have.

  “This is crazy,” Jake said, shaking his head. “I’ve only been in London a short while and already I’m leaving it behind? I’ve barely adjusted to the time change.”

  “Right. But London is dead in the summer, come to the country.”

  “I don’t even have my suitcase…I have only the clothes on my back.”

  “Uh, Jake, at the moment you don’t have any clothes on.”

  Good point. “You know what I mean.”

  “Trust me, you won’t need many clothes at the estate—it’s very private. We can buy whatever else you may need.”

  “Oh, and with who’s money?”

  Hunter indicated the knapsack on the nearby table. “That can buy a lot of clothes. And condoms.”

  “A combo drenched in oxymoron,” Jake said.

  “What do you say? Jake, loosen up, come have the time of your life. Be spontaneous. Be adventurous. Be with me. Who knows, I may even let you play the top. What do you say?” Hunter asked, moving in again for another kiss.

  Jake felt his resolve weakening. How was it possible he was even considering this? But he wanted Hunter’s kiss more than he wanted to doubt himself, and so this time Jake accepted the embrace, and then he accepted more, more, more. Desire flooded through him as his cock again sprang to action.

  “Take me, Hunter, fuck me once more before we leave for the country.”

  Hunter’s thick cock was already hard, all ready to enter Jake.

  Jake opened up his legs, all the while locking his eyes on Hunter and his alluring features. His beautiful face, the scruffy, rough beard, the thick hair of his arms and chest, and then he felt that thick cock pierce him with fierce determination. He opened wider, wider still, wrapping his legs around Hunter’s furry ass. He pulled him in tighter, feeling the entire cock slide deep, deep inside him. Hunter pushed, Jake begged for more, more, please more, and soon the two men were making hot, sweaty, hard love. They pounded and they grunted, they urged and they grabbed, they fucked and fucked and fucked more until ultimately they climaxed just when the lights dimmed all around London and only their shadows kept them company. Soon it would be safe to slip out under the cover of darkness, but for now Jake hated to even let that massive cock slip out of his warm insides. Yet Hunter pulled out and stood up, beginning to put clothes on. With the zip of the zipper of his jeans, each button of his shirt buttoned, both actions closing off access to his big cock and furry chest, Jake felt like Hunter was suddenly shutting him out. Was it the vulnerable boy who was returning to their world, or was it just Hunter’s way of not telling him the entire truth?

  Just what the hell was Jake doing, following this elusive, sexy figure out of London and to some waiting estate in some far-away county? What could possibly await him there, and how did it involve a huge thug named Junior and the bag full of money and the mysterious man to whom Hunter owed every last cent to?

  * * *

  But follow him he did, into a cab and onto the late train out of London’s Paddington Station. No one appeared to be following them, and soon the golden, glowing spire of Big Ben and the attractions of London were far in the distance. The Great Western Main Line train picked up speed as it rushed toward Reading, and eventually, after a transfer, to the small village of Newbury. Hunter explained they had about a total travel time of 90 minutes. It would be past midnight when they arrived, and from there “it’s another 30 minutes by cab to the estate.”

  “Good, that gives you plenty of time to explain what’s really going on.”

  “Actually, the train car is pretty empty—we could always fool around.”

  “You’ve distracted me enough for one day, Hunter. Let’s concentrate on your problem and why you think I can help you. So…spill.”

  “I did. You made me…many times.”

  “Christ, Hunter. Is everything a joke?”

  “Relax, Jake. You take things too seriously sometimes.”

  “You leave me with a bag full of money, probably 25,000 pounds…”

  “Actually, it’s 50,000 pounds.”

  Jake’s mouth failed him. Open yes, but no words spilled out. He stared at the bag sitting between them, tossed so casually to the accompanying seat it may as well have contained yesterday’s underwear. Hunter seemed so blasé about it. Jake felt more nervous than before. That was one butt-load of money. Finally, he said, “You left me in the care of 50,000 pounds, which by current exchange rates in near $100,000…how did you know I’d even return it? You took a big chance, Hunter, with someone you hardly knew.”

  “I knew I could trust you. I have good instincts about people.”

  “The same people who you owe this money to? Did you trust your instincts when you borrowed it? And why did you—what did you need the money for? You still haven’t told me much except about this little caper except that you owe a lot of money and also that you have no intention of paying it back.”

  “Not only do I not want to pay it back, I want to win more.”

  “Ah, win. Let me guess—gambling. Cards?”

  “Horses.”

  “Horses? You mean, like, horse racing?”

  “Newbury, where we’re headed, is home to N
ewbury Racecourse. I’ve spent many a day there. Patsy’s dearly departed once owned a few horses, would run them in season.”

  “And apparently you’ve spent many a dollar. Er…pound.”

  “You win some, you lose some.”

  “Sounds like you lost all.”

  “I’ll make it up. And more.” He paused. “I always do. This is the first time though that I’ve owed…well, so much, and to the same person. Lately he’s not been in a very forgiving mood. Holds a grudge like he holds his liquor.”

  “Is that why we’re going to Newbury? To go to the races?”

  “Nah, it’s the off season, no racing till Fall. Can’t wait for this year’s Hennessy Gold Cup. I usually clean up every November when it races. Normally he’d wait for his cash, but he’s being such a hard ass. Sending Junior my way.”

  “So you start the new season in debt and spend the rest of the reason of the season trying to pay it back? And when that runs out, you borrow? Doesn’t sound like a very smart plan.”

  “Henderson Fellows could stand to lose some money, he’s got plenty.”

  “Henderson Fellows?”

  “Quite a name, isn’t it? I think he’s got a couple other fancy British-sounding middle names in there, enough letters to fill out the alphabet. Proper English parents, a Duke or a Duchess, whatever, and he’s the family fuck-up—see, just like me. It’s what we have in common. A disgrace to his parent’s if you ask me, plying his trade as a bookie. But we all must do something for a living, right?”

  “Unless you’re you.”

  Hunter didn’t have a reply to that one, unless you counted a tossed away shrug.

  “So, let me guess. Junior works for this Henderson Fellows guy, sends him out to make sure his debts get paid—one way or the other. Great, if Junior had been able to corner me, what would have happened? Would he have beaten me senseless? Shot me? Kidnapped me?”

  “Nothing so dramatic. He would’ve just taken the money.”

  “And if he’d found you with the money?”

  “Oh, he’d have taken me to see Henderson,” Hunter said, evasively. “What do you say we drop this awful subject,. It’s ruining the mood.”

  “But this money. Where did you get it?”

  “Oh, from Patsy.”

  “So why not ask her for more?”

  He frowned. “Dear sister says I’m on a budget. How else will I learn to be responsible with money, she’s always telling me. Always trying to instruct me on how to live my life.”

  “Sounds like you need to take her class again.”

  “I know what I’d like to enroll in,” Hunter said.

  Hunter’s mood was quite obvious, Jake could tell. His jeans could barely contain the bulge that was pressing against them. His palm rubbed against the material, all the while keeping his eyes locked on Jake’s face. With his free hand he unbuttoned his shirt a few buttons, thick chest hair on display. Shit, Jake thought, his own cock growing inside his pants, this guy was turning him on again, and Jake could barely resist him. But what did he expect him to do? Suck him off right here on the train? Lick his chest? Mount him and bounce on his cock while he penetrated him?

  Just then the conductor’s voice crackled over the train’s speakers, announcing their pending arrival in Reading. Hunter looked a little disappointed at the reliability of the British rail system, and so by the time the train reached the platform, his cock’s hardness had dissipated and the two of them rose to leave the train. Ten minutes later their transfer train arrived and they began the short journey into Newbury proper. Gone were any come on advances, with Hunter nodding off into a faint sleep.

  Jake just watched the darkened countryside pass him by, jostled by the constant motion of the train. He stole occasional glances at Hunter, still not able to believe he’d a) met this man; b) that he’d allowed this man to manipulate him into this scheme of his; and c) had wild, sweaty sex with him all afternoon. And now here they were headed to his sister’s country house in the middle of the night, and what then? Was Patsy Abbott in residence, or was this another part of Hunter’s plot? He realized he still didn’t know how Hunter planned to pay back this Henderson Fellows fellow, nor how he himself figured into whatever Hunter had planned. But rest assured, he knew a plan had been hatched, Hunter never did anything on a whim. Except for the surprise request for Jake to come along for the adventure—at least, that’s what he’d claimed. Was that really true? Did Hunter actually have real feelings for him, or was it just sex? How did Jake feel about all that? He’d come to London for love and all that had motivated him so far was lust. Yes, Hunter was fucking sexy and he couldn’t wait to be with him again, but at some point they would have to decide if there was any promise of a future. Could Jake really be with someone who lived so recklessly? Could be as bad for his bank account as for his heart.

  As they neared Newbury, Hunter awoke and took out his mobile phone. He dialed a pre-programmed number (of course), chatted quickly in hushed tones, and then hung up. He just smiled at Jake when given an inquiring look. Ten minutes later they arrived in Newbury proper, stepping off the train only to be met by a man dressed in black, complete with a black cap. He stood beside a stretch limousine.

  “Ah, Charles, very good timing.”

  “Indeed, Mr. Abbott. The train was on time. I beat it by a minute.”

  “Excellent.” He turned to Jake. “Shall we?”

  Hunter slid into the back of the limo, the driver Charles holding the door open. Jake gave him a questioning look, received back a quiet nod but no hint of who he was or who he might work for. Okay, guess no introductions were going to happen. The door closed, with both men settled into the comfort of leather seats. Hunter poured two helpings of Scotch, giving one to Jake before sipping at his own.

  “You have a chauffeur?” Jake asked.

  “Alas, no. But I have friends, and friends like to help me out.”

  “Interesting. Just what do you have to do to have such friends?”

  “Sleep with them,” Hunter said with a laugh.

  Jake couldn’t tell if he was being serious. He usually wasn’t, but when it came to Hunter you could never be sure. He kept Jake off balance, guessing what he’d do, sometimes succeeding, most times failing. Life seemed like one game for him. If there was one thing Hunter did take seriously, it was sex. With his movie-star looks and porn-worthy cock, he had the desire, the equipment, and he delivered on all his urgent promises. Jake’s sore ass was proof of that.

  Jake didn’t get to see much of Newbury itself, since they barely hit the town square before heading onto some dark, quiet highway, which took them deeper into the country. With the clock having slipped past midnight and only the hint of a moon in the sky above, they were encased in blackness. Only the headlights guided them through the winding roads of Berkshire county, and at last they arrived at a private driveway identified by two cement lions at the gate. The limo wound its way up a long, narrow access road, and finally emerged through the trees, The big house named Voignier Estate presented itself.

  “Welcome to Manderly,” Hunter said.

  “Yeah, no kidding. Hope Mrs. Danvers doesn’t try to burn it down.”

  “Nah, we gave her the summer off,” Hunter said, “so it’s just the two of us.”

  That sounded nice, until Hunter finished his thought.

  “For now.”

  Jake had no idea who could be joining them. He was sure Hunter knew.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Well, at least they didn’t have to break into the place.

  Jake had to admit, as they stepped out of the limousine and it sped off into the darkness and he and Hunter stood before the imposing brick-encased façade of Voignier House, the thought occurred to him that his rather crazy day would end with a case of breaking and entering. But then Hunter pulled out a key and thrust open the door with force and determination.

  “Huh, I imagined us breaking the glass on the kitchen door and sneaking in through the back,” Jake said.


  Hunter shook his head. “Patsy got tired of replacing the glass, so she finally gave in and presented me with a key.”

  “Ha ha,” Jake said, sarcastically.

  Hunter was dead serious. “No joke.”

  “Hunter Abbott, I think you’re the baddest dude I’ve ever met.”

  That backhanded compliment made him smile. “I hope so. You need to let go, Jake, go with the flow, let life entertain you, not challenge you.”

  “Oh, and how do you propose I start?”

  “The big four-poster bed in the master bedroom, you and me.”

  A turned-on Jake needed little additional encouragement, and not 15 minutes after the two of them had crossed the threshold of Voignier House, Hunter’s hard cock was itself crossing another barrier, one easily accessed with a hearty swipe of lube. Jake was on his knees, arms gripping the hardwood posts as Hunter pierced him. His ass sucked in every thick inch, feeling Hunter’s big balls slap against him as he thrust and he pounded. Jake felt an explosion rip through him, and quickly he was shooting his load, his cock jutting and bouncing in the air as Hunter continued his eager, hard thrusts. Suddenly the big cock exploded as well, and Hunter pumped, pumped, pumped out each drop until at last, satiated, he pulled out and fell back against the plush blankets of the bed. Jake snuggled in close to him, hands brushing the thick mat on Hunter’s chest, and it was that way that both men, physically and emotionally drained from the day’s excitement, contentedly fell asleep.

  In the morning, they discovered there was very little in the way of provisions in the cupboards, and so a visit to the market in Newbury Towne Centre was in order. A red Mustang convertible was at their disposal, hidden and slightly dusty inside the neighboring garage. Hunter explained that this was Patsy’s toy, but she was hardly here to use it. So of course he’d convinced her to give him a key.