Chapter Eleven

Officially, and for the sake of old Jordan and the few other servants who were still around the house, I had a camp bed in the Young Master’s study so I could be close at hand rather up in the servants’ quarters, if he needed my attention during the night.

What we hoped nobody else knew was that Alex needed my services several times every night and I was more than happy to get very little sleep, as we enjoyed frantic, intensely physical fucks or long leisurely lovemaking sessions depending on our mood.

Then as dawn rose, I would leave my lover and go back to the adjoining study where I would mess up the untouched sheets of my own bed, just in case some curious parlour maid or even Jordan himself should start to take too much notice.

A few days later, we left the Great Hall and returned to London where Alex, as good as his word, invested in a new wardrobe for me, a complete collection of travelling clothes for the stylish man of the world.

We travelled around the West End as equals and even laughed as we passed close to Soho and that street where I had seen him through the fog so many months before.

“I’d heard about that place from Seb,” Alex admitted. “I was so frustrated, so confused that I really was thinking of going in there – and then I met you in the street and that strengthened my resolve to save myself for you.

“But the funny thing is that you never seemed to question what I had been doing there in that part of town – and I’m glad you never asked. You saved me from myself.”

One night we even had dinner, back at the Ritz, with Seb who entertained us with stories of his latest conquest, a rich middle aged countess who liked to have her bottom spanked with a paint brush and who encouraged Seb to smear her ample tits with purple paint as he fucked her.

“It gets everywhere,” he laughed. “But I have to admit there’s something strangely appealing about sucking on those massive plum coloured knockers, which just goes to show there’s always a new sexual trick to be learnt. And my God does she go at my todger – you’d think she was heading for the finish line at the Grand National the way she rides my knob!

“And then afterwards, of course, I have to help to soap her down and the sight of the streams of bubbly water running down those massive hooters, dripping from those big pink nipples, gets me going again and before we know where we are, I’m sucking at the teat once more and her legs are wide open and her cunt is glistening, moist and ready for another invasion – and a chap simply has to oblige, hasn’t he?

“I tell you, it’s a wonder we get any painting done at all. And the husband will surely be wondering why it’s taking so long to deliver!”

Of our own sexual encounters, nothing was said, though I knew, of course, that Alex understood Seb would never have been able to resist my member.

But he understood too that for Sebastian I was just one more cock to add to the list, that screwing the sitters was the artist’s obsession and privilege but never an expression of love or even affection.

Two days later we left for Southampton and our luxury suite on board the Olympia.

Just as at the Great Hall, I had a bed in the study though we both understood that it was there for form’s sake only and that my true place was in Alex’s arms.

The atmosphere on board the luxury liner was like none I had ever encountered, a heady mixture for first class passengers of luxury and decadence.

Alex and I were not the only gentleman and servant travelling together – in fact, there seemed to be many men making the voyage without the encumbrance of female company and I felt sure that there were many camp beds that remained un slept in during those nights at sea.

And then there were the crew – handsome, eager to please young men with bright and welcoming smiles in tight uniforms who, one suspected, would happily accommodate any single gentleman who found the nights too lonely.

Our own cabin steward was a tall, well-built young chap who told us that he was called Sandy and that he was always available at any time of the day... or night.

Whatever he meant by that, we had no intention of discovering but on the second day out from Southampton and just a day after leaving the French port of Cherbourg, I did have to call for Sandy’s help in the middle of the night.

The motion of the ship had, it is true, been noticeably greater as the day progressed but as the swell grew rougher and the Atlantic waves grew bigger Alex became increasingly green and, half way through dinner, he announced he would have to return to the cabin.

By two in the morning, Sandy was having to summon the ship’s doctor, who prescribed a sedative and said the only cure for such severe sea sickness was complete rest.

Suddenly free to amuse myself, I would walk around the boat deck for several hours at a time every morning before making use of the luxurious gymnasium and Turkish Bath suite before returning to make sure that Alex needed nothing.

It was a couple of nights later that Sand casually suggested that if I were lonely, I might like to join him for a nightcap in the staff quarters.

“We might not be able to drink with the toffs but we do have some fun of out own,” he said. “if your friend is sleeping – and he’s doing nothing else that I’m aware of - why don’t you come?”

Seeing no reason to decline the invitation, I followed Sandy into the labyrinthine bowels of the ship and another world, far removed from the splendor of the public areas.

Down here, far from the view of the paying passengers, there was another world, another bar and a dance floor where men quite openly danced with each other, kissing without caring what anybody else said while in dark corners they let passion take its course.

Sandy watched my face with interest as, looking into the darkness, I took in the sight of handsome young men penetrating each other with no though for the consequences.

“You see anything you like?” he asked as he allowed his hand to rest on my arm.

The temptation to participate was great – here you would have found every form of sexual adventure you could have dreamed of and, far out at sea, you could forget about the consequences and simply enjoy the body of your choice right there and then, just two more humans finding the ultimate pleasure with no thought for the future.

“I’m sorry,” I said, suddenly aware of Alex alone in his bed. “I think my friend might need me tonight. I think I’ll turn in if that’s okay.”

Sandy smiled but said nothing to detain me and, as I left to find my way back to the guest decks, I had no doubt he would have found another partner for his night’s activities.

The following morning saw the storm of the past few days subsiding and walking around B Deck was not the fierce struggle against the elements it had been.

After my usual number of circuits I went to the gymnasium, spent some time on a rowing machine and then headed for the Turkish Bath steam room, where I found I was no alone.

Sitting completely naked was a fellow passenger I had seen there a few times before but who had never spoken, a giant of a man, bullet headed, thick necked, broad shouldered and barrel chested, his body covered with a dense mass of greying hair from which two surprisingly prominent nipples stood out.

He sat on a marble bench with his back against the Turkish tiled wall, his legs spread wide open so it was impossible not to notice a thick, veined, sturdy and extremely long penis emerging from a thick bush of still black pubic hair.

“Hi,” he said, as I took my place on the marble bench opposite after pouring water onto the brazier of coals between us, creating a fresh cloud of cleansing steam.

I nodded in reply but said nothing but he ignored the silence and continued: “Hey you’re English guy aren’t you? Travelling with the young aristo?

Again I nodded, curious about how he had learnt anything about me but realising that a generous tip for the steward could probably get the answer to most questions on board the Olympia.

“You know, I’ve been observing you in the gymnasium over the past few days. You look great – that’s some physique you have there. Have you ever thought about the movies?

“Pardon?” For the first time I felt I had to say something.

“The movies. A man like you could make himself a very large fortune if he knew the right people.”

“And who might they be?” I asked, suddenly aware that I sounded hopelessly priggish and aloof in a way only the English can.

“I’m Max. Max Von Mars,” he smiled at me as he introduced himself, choosing to ignore my cool tone.

“I’m in the movie business myself. Made quite a few pictures over the past few years. Hollywood’s looking for young men like you. Men with good looks and potential and the desire to succeed in a new world of opportunity.”

Despite myself, I found myself looking him in the eye, losing the English diffidence and asking: “And what would I have to do?”

“You’d need to meet the right people, get yourself a screen test – I can arrange all that... ”

The sentence trailed away as I looked down and saw that the slumbering beast between his legs was twitching to life, rising from its bed of curling pubes, it’s glistening tip emerging from the foreskin as we made small talk.

The invitation was there quite clearly, though Von Mars said and did nothing, just holding me with his amused gaze.

I had rejected Sandy’s offer down the night before but there had been nothing in that for me apart from one more sexual experience.

The man opposite though – big, hard, hairy – could be the key to a different future.

Alex loved me but would that love last forever? Would he hurt me as Eddie had once hurt me? Would our passion survive away from everything that was familiar about the old world.

Von Mars could change everything and all I had to do was go over, run my hands through the thick forest of chest hair, tweak and suck his now even more prominent nipples and then go down on my knees to take that monster of a tool between my lips before sitting in his lap and letting him spear me with his weapon as I masturbated for him, sealing our bargain for the future with our cum.

And then? Then he might part his cheeks and insist that that I give him a good rodgering, plunging into his no doubt hairy anus with practiced vigour, ensuring that he understood just how seriously I took his offer...

“Well, perhaps you might send your steward round to our cabin with a business card,” I suggested, as I stood and wrapped a towel around my waist, aware that despite my cool words, my own erection was betraying what I had just been thinking.

“Sure,” he replied, his boner subsiding just a little as we shook hands. “I mean it kid – with your looks you have a future and I’d be happy to help you, introduce you to some people I think would definitely be interested.”