This is Part 2 of the story "Making it with Sir Hubert" you may want to start with Part 1.
I discover the genteel touch can sometimes be rough...
I was well in now, with Sir Huby employing me as his regular chauffeur, to take away any suspicion that he and I was an item, and also to keep his wife Franchesca from knowing about his 'other side' as he calls it.
Living in the mansion I had my own room which was adjacent to Huby's office, so it was convenient for him to slip in after a prearranged meeting - which invariably took place whilst his wife was away for the day. But he promised that we will spend a whole night or two together when he could bed me, when Franchesca took her occasional short weekend breaks in the country house. As an MP he had his reputation to think of and, being in my element as his secret toy boy I had no qualms about that, he always saw me okay financially and to be honest, it was a dream to serve him.
It wasn't just fucking with him, not just that -Sir Huby was a rare posh English gentleman who was young enough still to enjoy the zest of sex and he certainly made good use of me.
Besides which he was a great conversationalist - fine with me and soon it was a natural part of our play times (as he liked to call them) for us to indulge in all sorts of conversation during the course of enjoying each other in the most profound way.
For instance he often loved just to see me bent steep over his lap as he comforted himself by smoothing his palm across my skin tight jeans, always complimenting me on my 'fine ass' and so on. He talks about his day in the House of Commons which may tend to sound boring to many, but with me perched over his knees I feel the passion in the warmth of his hand stroking and nudging me, accompanied by the occasional slap.
I do feel he would like to do a little more than slap me and I have no argument with that. I feel right for that and would like it. I know it would sting some, and perhaps that is what deters Sir Huby from doing it, he is such a gentle guy and always tells me to say 'stop' if he goes over the mark. But he hasn't done so yet but maybe the spanking will come when we become more acquainted. I would like that and, just leaning across his lap like that spurs me on, I do so love to be all ass for him to enjoy, I love that and it gives me a sense of fluffiness
I recall the Danny had his thing for spanking me and I grew quite accustomed to playing his badly behaved servant who needed discipline.
Physiologically the feel of being his subordinate was thrilling and such is the case with Sir Huby - and he is much more cultured than ever Danny was
I feel I am made to be Sir Huby's toy boy - I feel his fingers lightly begin to wonder into the darkened crevices and I show my willingness in doing a slight wiggle, to lure him on. He scratches my hind over my jeans and I enjoy the static electricity which runs up my spine.
I feel forever comfortable with him and I am starting to understand him, when he wants this or that by the motions of his wondering hands and the look in his lusty eyes.
His palm stroking becomes firmer and I hear the faint moans when he begins to squeeze each cheek one at a time - which gives such lively sensations. I am laying there, presenting myself to him - knowing the motions when he starts to massage my balls between and manipulates his hand under and upwards until I feel him squeezing my cock.
He has finished his conversation piece and his needs take priority, and when he fumbles with my belt I know he want to down my jeans and soon I am quite bare from the waist downwards.
I wonder how he will want me because I have learned it is rarely the same every time, but he tells me to part my thighs and I feel the whisper of his breath blow over my balls as he kneels there and begins to take just the tip of my erect cock, spurred on my those delicate and gorgeous blowing sensations, with his mouth.
I feel the first delight of his tongue there, licking my glans all over. I feel the spasms shoot up my spine and the length of my cock jerk upwards with each delicate lick. The feel of his fingers grasping my half-length and stretching my foreskin tight back - so that he can fully explore and run his tongue along the length, down to my hanging balls, further down in the very sensitive area between balls and asshole, and then, twisting his head I open more and move to his prompts, as he works his mouth beneath to find my hole, then the feel of him staring to lick and suck it, and another spasm shoots up my spine as he then returns to the business of sucking my cock to the full, having practiced awhile in taking it to the girth, he manages it quite well - and I feel the warmth of his wet mouth and throat as he gurgles awhile and releases, and then the same again until I am well sucked and primed.
I feel and acknowledge the ache for him but he taunts me, slapping my ass and showing me the full length of that splendid posh Englishman's cock which he boasts has pleased many a wench in his younger day, but now he wants toy boys, something new, something fresh from the feel of wet and often well used fanny - to a lovely sweet and tight asshole.
He stands there, orders me to sniff him there and I take the stance of a servant kneeling before him, willing to serve as he contorts my mouth with stinky fingers, which have just rummaged my hole. But when he lurches forward, presenting his purple cock for my perusal, he allows me just to feel the touch of his glans on my lips and then jolts back again, leaving me with my mouth open. He wipes and rolls its length over my face, teasing my lips again. I taste its earthiness and cry out for his submission. But still he teases me to the hilt and I am simply dying for it. But instead of allowing me to suck him he twists me around roughly, orders me on all fours and I am instantly filled with the bulk of his thrusting cock taking me hastily, like he has suddenly churned himself up so much he simply cannot wait, all he wants is my deep hole in which he can readily massage his cock into me. He makes my ass shake and move as he grasps my thighs so firmly in order to stabilise it for the best of deep and wholesome fucks.
This was a period when I discovered could be more than just the genteel gentleman, which was fine with me. When he'd done with me I was well numb, he liked to dress me afterwards and I had to display myself in a sexually orientating manner - he said I walked like a dream and loved to see my ass wiggle,.
"We have so much going for each other dear Alex" he said with his broad smile, those deep brown eyes looking as though they owned me.
The way I was feeling that was quite alright for me, I was his for the taking, I guess he knew that and said he aimed to take full advantage of that fact, and I would never feel unloved or un-shagged again. That was the tone of a posh Englishmen no doubt and at that point I knew I would always be there ready for him whenever he wanted me.
I discovered; the sheer thrill of living in a mansion, and having the luxury of a four poster bed also brought about something that I could never have envisaged in a thousand years.
It happened when least expected. I'd driven Sir Huby to Parliament and returned back to do a few chores in the garden, as was part of my employ.
Seeing Franchesca strolling around in the garden was nothing out of the ordinary. But that which was when one day I noticed, as she relaxed on a garden seat reading a book. Her skirts were disarranged and whether or not she was aware of it, I could just see the hint of red underwear between as I stooped nearby weeding the groundsels out of the herbaceous border.
At first I thought nothing of it, pretended I hadn't noticed and continued with my weeding chore; but my male hormones were taking over and ,being of the bisexual disposition, I kept on being drawn to another sneaky sighting of that darkness between her skirt and, without realizing she was gleefully watching me do that. , I was almost in a trance when I realised she had seen me looking, and acknowledged me with the sweetest smile.
Of course she was doing it intentionally and I was soon getting the message, especially after she had complimented me on the neat way I tended the garden she invited me in for coffee.
Okay she was about ten years my senior but when I first saw her, my male lust jerked in my groin. But being involved with her husband I quickly dismissed such thoughts, but now they were returning. She had a figure to die for, the way she walked and everything appertaining to the best in the female species.
I had a feeling her invite would lead to something far more refreshing than a cup of coffee...