Mark Arbour
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Everything posted by Mark Arbour
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May 25, 1973 The four of us looked amazing in our new clothes. We'd gone shopping for new duds for our party, and I felt like a debutante. We hired a limo for the night, and told Josh he should hire a guy to drive us around and keep the house in shape. He wasn't focused on that though. I'd probably have to do it for him. Of all of us, Armand was the foxiest. He was drop-dead gorgeous, and he'd gotten a brown suit that set off his eyes perfectly. They were such a u
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June 8, 1973 “Roger!” I said and ran over to hug him. I'm not sure if I was putting on my act or if I was genuinely happy to see him. “What a surprise! What brings you to Paris?” “I need to talk to you,” he said seriously. “Well I get back in town tomorrow night. Could you not have waited until then?” “No.” He was clearly very upset. “Let us go for a walk. It is a lovely evening.” JP really looked nervous abo
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June 22, 1973 JP had taken Roger moving into the house in stride. I had expected a bigger reaction from him, either pro or con, but I guess that's just how he is. The ultimate stoic. Everyone else seemed thrilled, especially Sam. I think he was looking for a workout buddy. In the end, both he and Tonto had fit into our routine seamlessly. And Tonto had been the biggest surprise of all. She totally doted on Roger. Maybe it's because she knew that I loved him, or
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June 29, 1973 I woke up with a smile, Roger underneath me with my body splayed across his. He was so comfortable to lie on, like a big pillow. Except for his hard dick, which was sticking straight up. I poked it with my knee, bugging him, waking him up. His eyes opened and he stared at me, pretending to be irritated, but his smile told me that he wasn't. “This thing is up again,” I said, stroking his cock, the organ that had given me so much pleasure.
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May 29, 1973 I got to the office and found myself happy to see Phillipe. Two days and I was already relying on him. Was that wise? I found myself descending into paranoia. I got all the HR information on Roger and Bobby and put it in my briefcase. “Phillipe, I forgot a few things at home. Why not ride along with me and we can work on my schedule. I've got some travel plans that will take me out of town.” “That sounds fun. A field trip.” His grin w
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February 5, 1973 A knock at the door preceded JP's arrival. It was early, really early, but they all had to head back and get the kids to school. Our outing seemed less intelligent now. We got out of bed and headed out to see the kids. Ace and Billy gave me a big hug, said goodbye to Peter, and ran out to the car. Brad gave me a long hug. “Will you be home tonight?” he asked. “Not tonight,” I said, “but I will be home Wednesday night, OK?” He nodded glumly. Then
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February 3, 1973 JP whisked Peter off as soon as he arrived, which kind of disappointed me, but then again, it wasn't completely unexpected. I told Rafael to put his suitcase in my room and he tried to get away with scowling at me. I giggled. I was hot and sweaty after my limousine calisthenics so I showed Peter where our room was and headed to the shower. The water felt amazing and I luxuriated in it, allowing it to flow sensuously over my body. I thought about sex with Peter
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March 24, 1973 A very excited Brad sat next to me on the plane as we descended into LAX. The last few days had been, well, weird. I'd gotten my loans, although it had cost me another blow job. Not only that, but I'd been able to borrow enough to cover the $2,000,000 without selling my house in Saratoga. Good thing too. I'd need it if there were cost overruns. Sam had come home but was staying in a guest room, and staying to himself as well. We glared at each other now. Stu
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May 1, 1973 If there were people out there who thought this Watergate scandal would just fade away, they were shocked out of their complacency yesterday. The President had been forced to ask for the resignation of his two most influential aides, H.R. Haldeman and John Ehrlichmann. On top of that, he had fired the White House Counsel, John Dean. It was a blood bath, and it should be obvious that this was going to be a bigger deal than anyone had believed in the beginning.
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February 7, 1973 LAX Airport is almost as chaotic as O'Hare, I thought as I wound my way to the baggage claim area. I was surprised to find a nervous-looking young man holding a sign with my name on it. I told Peter I'd take a cab, but he must have sent a car for me instead. I smiled, thinking about what a thoughtful guy he was. “I'm Stefan Schluter,” I said, holding out my hand. The guy shook it and just said hi. Well, I guess it's unreasonable to expect excelle
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February 14, 1973 Valentine's Day, the first one when I'd actually been in love, and I wanted to be with him. What was the use of being your own boss and being independently wealthy if you couldn't drop everything and go to see that special someone? So I caught a flight to LA, caught a cab (this time) to Peter's house, and caught him fucking someone else. I knew something was strange when I rang the doorbell, and even though I heard noises inside, no one answered. T
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March 16, 1973 “So you'll be gone for the next few days,” Jason said as he reviewed my schedule with me, “but I went ahead and scheduled some meetings on Monday. I also scheduled that Roger Burton guy in. Luke and Cecile weren't happy about the short notice,” he said, smiling at me. I just shrugged. I'm the boss, I treat them well, pay them well, they can humor me. “Excellent Jason. I want you to be in that meeting as well.” “Me?” he asked, almost in
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March 18, 1973 I walked up to JP and wrapped my arms around him. He tried to break away, flailed a bit, even tried to hit me, but I just stood there with an iron grip and he finally collapsed into me and cried. No, sobbed. And that was something he rarely did. I stroked his hair, his beautiful thick blond hair, and murmured “I love you,” into his ear as he vented his anger and frustration, and then, much more horribly, his pain. Finally, when it seemed he could cry no more, I l
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April 2, 1973 Jason came in, got me up and started briefing me before I even got out of bed. He had me scheduled solid for the whole week, but at least he'd left the evenings free. “I want to meet with Roger. Is he around?” I asked. Jason smirked but I ignored him. “He went up to Napa to check out some grapes. He's not supposed to be back until late tonight.” “See if you can track him down for me, OK?” After that our discussion devolve
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Granger looked down the gun deck at the laboring and sweating men. In the exact middle of the deck stood Travers, in all his glory, exercising the gun crews. Travers was in charge of gunnery, a duty that traditionally fell to the 2nd Lieutenant, but for Travers it was a passion. He studied ballistics, and experimented with different amounts of powder to see what would provide the best shot. Barracuda had two long nine pounder cannons in the bows and two aft. The long nines had a long barrel
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December 19, 1791 The City of London came into view as they topped a hill. It was evening now, so the flickering light of all the candles seemed to make the city pulse. “Bridgemont House, postie,” Granger said to the driver. The coach rocketed into London then slowed as the streets narrowed, heading more slowly to Westminster, and then to Mayfair. The coach drove up to a large home on Grosvenor Square and stopped with a lot of noise and bustle. The door flew open and f
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It was a quiet watch on deck, with Mr. Travers pacing the windward side of the quarterdeck and Granger standing near the wheel. There were no clouds, so with the bright stars lighting up the night sky it almost seemed as if you could reach up and touch them. They were heading down the English Channel, with the French coast on their left, dark and looming. “Walk with me Mr. Granger,” Travers said, pulling Granger from his thoughts. Granger fell into step with Travers in t
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Now that the rope was around him and they were pulling him toward the Barracuda, Granger had a chance to notice how incredibly cold he was. His hands were so cold they were brittle; he could barely hold onto the rope. He checked to make sure that it was tied around him as he felt himself pulled bodily upward. He slammed against the side of the Barracuda and then got his wits together enough to use his legs as shock absorbers against the hull. An aft gunport opened and he felt himself pulled
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Granger stared at his older brother, quickly taking in his uniform. He still had the uniform of a colonel, but it was not his old regiment, it was one of the King's Colonial regiments. “You appear to be surprised to find me here,” Bertie said with his mischievous grin. Bertie had a playful demeanor, in fact with him, life was all about play. “You might say that. The last time I saw you, you'd just insulted my superior officer and Father had disowned you.” Granger regr
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They lay there, panting, trying to catch their breath after another round of sex. “So when I fucked you, was that the first time?” Granger asked. “It was.” “Did you like it?” Granger asked. Travers gulped. “It was nice, I liked it. But I liked being inside you better.” “Good, because I like that better too,” Granger said, smiling up at him. Travers looked at him and just grinned. “Really?” he asked Granger. “Really. Havin
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Dinner had been a tedious affair. The admiral and his entourage were deadly dull. Granger had seen musicians arrayed in the background, but he was disappointed when they played. They weren't nearly as good as their trio on board Barracuda. Maybe the reason it had been so tedious was that Granger was anxious to get away with Iggy, to fuck him as he'd fucked Granger. They walked up to their room, Iggy looking nervous. “Lord Calverton will want a bath in half an hour. Prepare it no
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Granger sat in the Captain's office, flanked by Mr. Preston on one side, Travers on the other, and Dailey on the other side of him. The Captain was furious. Granger was conscious of the Captain's awesome power, that with a word he could be tied to a gun like Wilcox and beaten until his ass was red. Or he could be flogged. Or sent up to the mastheads, staying there for hours on end. But the Captain wasn't mad at him, he reminded himself. He was just mad. “This foot rope was clear
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HMS Barracuda swung to her anchor at Spithead, waiting for orders, waiting for supplies, just waiting. Granger found himself on watch, a thankless job in port. There were probably a hundred women below with the men, the orgiastic scene enough to make even the most libertine person blush. There would be fights, there would be arguments, and he would be responsible for handling them. As if he had willed it, a seaman approached him and saluted briskly. “Mr. Granger sir, there's a fi
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“Aaah,” Granger cried, much too loudly, as he blasted his load onto his chest. He looked up to see Travers smiling down at him, panting just like he was, his own body still quaking from another massive orgasm. “I wonder if they'd let me take you with me. Maybe you could be my first lieutenant?” Travers teased. They both knew that wouldn't work. He'd only be allocated a midshipman and a couple of master's mates for watch keeping. “I wish,” Granger said, smiling. Then
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The Vesuvius was prowling about in the Bay of Biscay, looking for the Barracuda, and looking for enemy ships. Travers and his crew weren't too disappointed at this diversion from Gibraltar, because this was a rich hunting ground for prizes. No one had to tell the lookouts to be observant. In fact, the whole thing would have seemed like a pleasant yachting cruise if it weren't for the crappy weather and the constant drills Travers put his men through. Granger knew that they cursed
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