Pride, Prejudice, and Porn

Part 26

Saturday came and our house at Longacre was bustling with preparations for the dinner party. Mom had decided to go grand for the evening, partly to impress the wealthy out-of-towners (including the hulking mega-billionaire with a sudden local reputation for being snobbish and stand-offish), partly as a show of gratitude for the kindness Chuck Bingham had shown Jamie while he was convalescing at Norwood, and partly to remind the invited local friends and neighbors that while the Bennetts might not be the wealthiest or flashiest family in Hartfield County we could certainly hold our own in the local culinary sweepstakes! 

In a rather small, insular place like Hartfield County having dinner parties and one-upping each other at them is one of the three top competitive events, the other two being horse racing (of course) and gossip. As dingbatty as Mom can be about other stuff she has a steel trap memory for keeping track of everyone who has invited us to dinner and when we had reciprocated in kind. We don’t have a huge home compared to some other people we know, but we have a good-sized company dining room with a table that can seat twelve or, with the addition of a few leaves, as many as fourteen or sixteen. That wasn’t actually all that many extra people — just us Bennetts are already seven people at the dinner table. The result of all this constant socializing and reciprocating is that at least once a month we’re hosting some kind of dinner party. With close friends or relations these dinners are relatively informal and family style, but that wasn’t going to be the case tonight. Mom had decided to put on the dog, assuming that the Binghams and the Darcys are accustomed to something more along the lines of Downton Abbey. 

Hyacinth Bucket has nothing on Mom when she’s decided to go all out. The best linens, silver, and china were all out for the occasion and the dining room looked elegant,  indeed. Mom and Mrs. Armstrong had put together a menu for a four-course extravaganza that even James Beard would have approved (and why wouldn’t he, most of the evening’s food was inspired by his own recipes). If anything were to go wrong, it wouldn’t be because of the food or the decor!

In the middle of the afternoon Jamie somehow rounded up the Twits and gave them “the talk” about being on their best behavior and not mentioning anything about Marines or David Wickman. This was kind of unusual for Jamie to do, but I was hopeful it would work. The girls mostly dismissed anything I tried to tell them, but they tended to be somewhat in awe of their gorgeous, near-perfect older brother. I was keeping my fingers crossed that this time they’d paid attention to Jamie.

Everything seemed to be going swimmingly. By the time the dinner guests began to arrive the house looked gracious and welcoming. The extra helpers Mrs. Armstrong usually had come in for these affairs were circulating discreetly around the living room offering drinks and nibbles. Tonight there would sixteen at table. In addition to all of us Bennetts and the three guests of honor from Norwood Mom had invited Aunt Susan and Uncle Phil, the Davises and the Lewises. 

As usual around here, the guests arrived punctually. Over the years dress at these dinner parties has become more casual, but still dressy, with the women wearing something stylish but comfortable and the men usually in slacks and buttoned sport shirts. By now, though, we’d come to expect that the Norwood party would arrive “fashionably late,” at least if Caroline was involved, because she clearly liked to make dramatic entrances. Tonight was no exception. Ten or fifteen minutes after everyone else had arrived the Mercedes SUV came up the drive to disgorge Chuck, Caroline and Fitz. The two guys had apparently been clued in on the dress code for the evening. Chuck and Fitz looked handsome in their casual outfits, although it was a bit hard not to stare at Fitz, in particular, at least for me, because he towered over everyone else at the gathering. Caroline, on the other hand, once again seemed overdressed in a neon silk print outfit embellished with some very large and clunky jewelry that looked exactly like what the model on the cover of her Italian Vogue magazine was wearing. I don’t know if this is how her Cleveland crowd usually dresses, but it was way over the top compared to the more understated outfits most women in Hartfield County favored. She swept grandly past me into the living room where I got an overpowering whiff of Hungry Python, which I guess is her new signature scent. I suspected she’s ordered it in gallon jugs and was positively bathing herself in the stuff! I suppressed a gag reflex and forced myself not to roll my eyes. 

Mom introduced them around to the people they hadn’t already met previously, with Caroline offering a limp hand in greeting. As soon as they’d made the rounds Jamie and I corralled Chuck and Fitz and got busy catching up on what we’d all been doing since Jamie and I had returned to Longacre. With visiting outlanders to entertain Mom and Mrs. Armstrong were being very Kentucky, at least with the before-dinner drinks and nibbles. We snagged some juleps from the passing servers, along with some of Mrs. A’s locally-renowned peppered cheese straws and some little skewers of shrimp with a bourbon glaze Mom has never served before. Points for House Bennett — even Caroline wouldn’t be able to find fault with these treats!

Jamie and Chuck drifted off toward a corner of the room to moon over each other. I was feeling a bit moony over Fitz, who looked particularly toothsome in well-fitted navy slacks topped with a salmon-colored button down shirt that had a fine check pattern in the fabric. I would have been perfectly happy to monopolize him for the evening but, knowing about the bad rep he was getting for being snobbish and stand-offish I steered him over to where Dad was chatting with Uncle Phil, Arthur Davis, and Bill Lewis. Fitz had met Arthur a few days ago at the bank, but he hadn’t really met the other three men so I wanted to introduce him. I hoped he and Dad would hit it off — Dad’s another one who tends to be reserved around people he doesn’t know well but I was sure if the two ever got to know each other they’d find some interests in common. We all chatted for a few minutes but I could see why things often were difficult for Fitz in social settings. He was nearly a foot taller than the next tallest person in the room and everyone had to crane up to speak to him! As the Munchkin in the crowd I had even farther to look up to him while we were standing together. Too much of that and I would be needing a neck brace tomorrow!

I steered Fitz over to a settee where the two of us could take a seat and reduce the height difference. “Welcome to the Hartfield County dinner party circuit,” I grinned. “If you spend much more time here pretty soon you’ll have met absolutely everyone in the County.”

“Well, thanks for introducing me around,” Fitz said. “People seem pretty nice. I hope I get a chance to know your Dad a little better this evening.”

“I think you’ll like him when you do. He’s an interesting guy, but he’s kind of like you. He’s doesn’t perform well around strangers.” 

“I’m glad to see you, Izzy,” Fitz said quietly. “It’s been a little too quiet around Norwood for my taste since you and Jamie came back to Longacre. Chuck and Caroline have been spending a lot of time with Lamar on the renovations projects, so I’ve been spending more time in the gym. It’s not as much fun, though, without you to work out with.”

“Especially in the sauna,” I smirked.

“Especially in the sauna,” he repeated. “And our slumber parties,” he went on slyly. “Now I’ve started taking after you in the evenings and started reading nineteenth century novels!”

“You could do worse,” I said. “Hey, after dinner we can sneak off to our famous shrubbery for a bit.” 

“I’ve heard all about it from Chuck,” snickered Fitz. “Apparently it’s one of the must-see sites in Hartfield County!”

“Only for a very select viewing audience,” I said. 

“Well, I’ll be delighted to have you give me the tour.”

I saw one of the servers whispering something to Mom. “It looks like dinner is about to be served,” I said, and, sure enough, Mom stood up to invite everyone into the dining room.

Seating was kind of haphazard. Somehow it ended up being men at one end of the table and women at the other. Probably made sense — the guys could talk about guy stuff while the women and girls could talk about their stuff. I know that sounds stereotypical, but in Hartsfield County there aren’t a lot of conversational topics, and they rarely changed, whether at dinner parties or anywhere else. The guys talked sports, horses, politics, and gossiped (although they’d never admit to doing that). The women talked clothing, kids, horses, recipes, and gossiped (also never admitting that’s what they were doing). I found myself down towards one end of the table, with Jamie on my left. Fitz was facing me across the table with Chuck on his right and Dad on his left. Uncle Phil, Arthur Davis and Bill Lewis were ranged on each side of the middle of the table. Their wives did likewise. Caroline was seated across the table from me, wedged between Elinor Davis and Aunt Susan. Mom was seated on our side of the table, with the Twits sitting at the far end. 

All went well during the first couple of courses. Well, Fitz’s enormously long legs sprawled far underneath the table with no effort at all and I almost spit out a mouthful of Mrs. Armstrong’s delectable black bean soup when I suddenly felt one of Fitz’s size 17 shoes sliding gently against one of my size 7s! Fitz shot me a look and an almost imperceptible grin as he leaned a bit to his left to catch whatever it was Dad was saying to him. Jamie and Chuck were obliviously drowning in each other’s eyes while spooning up their soup. I would have tried to give Fitz a stare down but he had turned to respond with interest to Dad about the development of a vaccine against dengue fever, a miserable and sometimes fatal tropical disease. 

“Good,” I thought. “I’m glad he’ll see that not all of us Bennetts are like the Twits.” Cures for tropical diseases had always been one of Dad’s many interests, and I remembered having read a while back that DarCo, the Darcy family chemical/pharmaceutical giant, has been working on vaccines for malaria and dengue. That got Fitz engaged in a discussion with Dad about DarCo’s efforts in the field in conjunction with the Gates Foundation, although it didn’t completely stop the nudging and stroking under the table. 

So far, so good. No dangerous topics broached so far. Things continued in safety and calm during the main course, which was a delicious hunter-style ragout (sounds so much better than “stew,”) redolent of juniper and wild mushrooms. Conversation faded as the happy herd dug in, mooing contentedly. “Louise,” I heard Elinor Davis saying to Mom, “I’ve got to get this recipe from you. This ragout is divine!” Caroline, sitting next to Elinor, must have thought so, too, I thought. She had scraped her plate clean.

I began breathing a sigh of relief. The plates were cleared and dessert was brought in. We were back to the Kentucky theme, I saw — it was an ice cream parfait swirled with Mrs. Armstrong’s trademark bourbon pecan caramel sauce. 

My relief was misplaced. “I hope you enjoyed dinner, Caroline,” I heard Mom say. “We so appreciate everything you and Chuck did for Jamie last week while his ankle was healing. And for Izzy, too.” 

Uh, oh. That was putting Caroline on the spot, forcing her to say something gracious in return. Not her strong suit!

“Oh, it was nothing, Mrs. Bennett,” Caroline responded, rather unenthusiastically. “It was the least we could do.”

“We were delighted to have Jamie and Izzy with us,” Chuck spoke up from our end of the table, having overheard the exchange between Mom and his sister. “I’m really glad we had a chance to get to know your sons so much better.” He shot a glance at Jamie and me. “They’re always welcome at Norwood.” Mom was looking at Chuck and I think she missed Caroline’s frown and eye roll. 

“It’s very nice of you to say so,” Mom answered Chuck. “Of course, you all are always welcome at Longacre, too. We’re so glad to have such a good neighbor living at Norwood, and we’re so happy you and Jamie have become such good friends.” From Mom’s tone of voice I could tell she was expecting wedding announcements to go out any day. Caroline’s frown deepened, with some unattractive furrows appearing between her eyebrows.

Conversation resumed. I was feeling like we had skated out onto very thin ice, though. But wait! It could get worse!

“Girls,” I heard Aunt Susan saying to Linda and Karen. “We hope you and your friends enjoyed themselves at game night.” 

“Oh, yes,” Linda answered. “We had a great time. Thanks for having all of us.”

“We enjoyed having you. We’ll have to do that again soon.”

“It was sweet of you to have the kids again, Susan,” Mom said to her sister. “We’ll have to have them out here to Longacre soon. Maybe for a barbecue before the weather gets colder. Girls,” she said, turning to Linda and Karen, “would that nice David Wickman and his other Marine friends enjoy that?”

“Oh, I’m sure they would,” Linda said eagerly. “When could we invite them?”

I looked across the table to see that now it was Fitz’s turn to be frowning. I also realized that his foot was no longer playing games with mine under the table. “Best laid plans. . .” I thought to myself. Jamie’s talk with the girls had actually worked — they’d avoided the whole subject of Marines all evening. Unfortunately, we hadn’t thought to warn Mom or Aunt Susan. The unexpected torpedo attack came from them! 

“Let’s talk later, girls,” Mom was saying. “In a couple of weeks, I think. The weather will still be nice for a while.” 

The servers came in to clear the table and everyone headed back to the living room for coffee and more conversation. I gravitated back to where Chuck, Jamie and Fitz were sitting together, but Fitz still seemed reserved and withdrawn and I was flustered and quiet, absently stirring my coffee as it began to get cold.

“I’m glad you’re coming over to Norwood tomorrow,” Chuck said to Jamie. “I miss you being around. What time can you be there?” 

“Three o’clock?” said Jamie. “Is that OK with you?” 

“Can’t you make it earlier?” Chuck asked.

“Well, maybe two o’clock? Mom’s insisting we go to church tomorrow because we haven’t been in a while and there’s a guest preacher so they want to have a decent crowd for her. And then there’s lunch. But I could be there by two, I think.” 

“Two’s good. I wouldn’t want us to feel like the afternoon’s all rushed,” Chuck said. He turned to me and Fitz, who’d been sitting there quietly and awkwardly. “Izzy, aren’t you doing your famous shrubbery tour today? 

“Oh,” I said, looking at my now cold coffee. “Sure. Fitz? Would you like to, um, go get some air?”

Fitz looked at me, somewhat revived. “Uh, yeah. I would, actually. I don’t feel like I can leave Hartfield County without having experiencing the famous shrubbery.” He gave me a small smile. “C’mon, Izzy. Lead the way.”

Part 27

Fitz and I drifted into the shrubbery, the small wooded area at the far edge of our garden. “Nice dinner,” he said. “I may have to ask your Mom for that ragout recipe, too,” he smiled. “It was really good and I don’t think we’ve ever had it at Pemberton.” 

“You’ll make her year if you do,” I said. “So you’re really going to be leaving? When?”

“In another week or so, I’m afraid. I can’t stay forever. And I need to be back at Pemberton when Gloria comes home on her school break.”

“I’ll miss you when you go,” I said. “Until we met I didn’t realize I’ve been getting kind of isolated here. It’s not the same as before I went away to college last year. My closest friends from high school are all away at school and I’m back here kicking around on my own. I don’t seem to have that much to do here except baby-sitting and chauffeuring the Twits.” 

Fitz took my hand and wove his huge fingers between my much smaller ones. 

“Well, I understand wanting to try to have time to figure out what you’re doing and where you’re going,” Fitz said. “But maybe you’ve already discovered one thing.”

“Really? What?” I looked at him skeptically.

“I think maybe you’ve realized you’ve outgrown Hartfield County. It may be time to expand your horizons. There’s an awfully big world out there.”

“You’re right. I don’t honestly see myself spending the rest of my life here. But I still haven’t landed on what I want to do. I’m too much like Dad, I’m afraid. So many things interest me, and I don’t want to get trapped into some narrow career path.”

“I enjoyed talking to your Dad at dinner,” Fitz said. “I see what you mean about all his interests. I wasn’t expecting a knowledgeable conversation about vaccines for tropical diseases.”

“Told you,” I said. “And that’s just a sample. He knows so much about so many things. It’s just a shame he’s never really done anything with all that knowledge.”

“Well, I think you’re going to figure it out,” Fitz said. “You’re more self-aware than he was at your age, I suspect. One of the advantages of being gay. Like it or not, it forces us to figure out our place in the world.”

“I hope that’s true,” I smiled. We’d arrived at the stone bench and sat down. It made conversation easier not having to crane my neck back to look up at him.

“You know you can come stay for a while at Pemberton, if you’d like,” Fitz offered. “Have you ever been to that part of the country?” 

“No. I’d like to. But I’m on a kind of limited budget right now. I’m not working and I sort of feel like I’m mooching off Mom and Dad, as it is. I wouldn’t be comfortable asking them for travel money.”

Fitz gave me a look. “Izzy, you wouldn’t have any expenses if you come visit at Pemberton. You may not be aware, but there are some advantages to having money. The Binghams aren’t the only people with a private jet. If you want to visit just let me know and I’ll have the plane come pick you up. And if you want to spend some time in New York or Philly or Washington while you’re back East, we’ve got apartments in all three cities where we can stay without you having to spend anything.”

“We?”

“Well, if you wouldn’t mind my company showing you around. I’ve spent my whole life on the East Coast so I think I’d be a good tour guide.”

I squeezed Fitz’s hand. “Thanks, big guy. I’ll have to think about it. It’s really kind of you to offer.”

“It’s not entirely kind,” Fitz said. “It’s selfish. I like having you around. You’re not the only one who’s a bit isolated.”

I could feel Fitz’s hand squeezing back. My heart gave a kind of lurch. “Ouch!” I yelped. “That hand of yours feels like a vice!”

Fitz let go of my hand. “Bull in the china shop, again,” he sighed. 

“It’s OK,” I said. “I guess you don’t have that much hand-holding experience, do you?”

“Um, no, now that you mention it,” Fitz said.

“You’ll learn. You just don’t know your own strength. I like holding hands with you. You just need to remember that I’ll need mine later to do other things, unmangled,” I giggled.

Fitz ruffled my hair and tilted my head up as he leaned down to kiss me. “I’ve missed this. I’ve been thinking about being with you all day,” he said, before I felt his tongue push its way between my lips and thrust its way into my mouth. I sank into it, as he used his powerful arms to draw me closer into his chest. 

“Mmmmm,” is all I could voice as I felt myself turning into melting jell-o again. I could feel one of Fitz’s big hands fumbling with the buttons on my shirt. He was surprisingly nimble — he had it open within a minute and I could feel him stroking my chest and playing with my nipples as his tongue massaged my tonsils and drove itself into the back of my throat. I stroked his chest under the salmon-colored shirt he was wearing, feeling his colossal pecs straining against the fabric. It was Fitz’s turn to moan a bit as I did that. I began reciprocating by unbuttoning his shirt and then running my hands over his lightly hairy chest. 

Fitz came up for air and I leaned up to kiss his neck and throat, which elicited a groan of pleasure from him. I nuzzled downwards to his chest where one of his hardened nipples presented itself as an irresistible target. My tongue whirled around it before I sucked it in and began nibbling on it. Fitz wrapped his arms around my head and pressed it into his chest. “This is why you’ve got to come visit,” he said. “We can’t do this on video calls!”

“No,” I said, as I wriggled free for a moment. “We definitely can’t do this on FaceTime.” 

Fitz stood up suddenly and picked me up, standing me on the stone bench. “I like this,” he said. “For a change you’re not such a Munchkin!” I gave his shoulder a shove. “Hey! No abusing the big bad ogre,” he said, and dove back down on my chest, using his mouth and tongue to drive me into a frenzy. I felt him unbuckling my belt and then pulling down my trousers and briefs. Before I knew it, I felt myself enveloped in his hot, wet mouth, his tongue doing mind-bending feats around my rigid cock. 

“Urrrghh!” I groaned ecstatically. “Oh, my God! The things you do with your mouth. . .” I felt my knees starting to buckle in pleasure, but with Fitz’s arm wrapped around me there wasn’t any danger of falling. He just pulled me more tightly toward him as his mouth and tongue worked me closer and closer to climaxing. Fitz could feel that I was getting there and redoubled his effort. I don’t know how he did it but suddenly I felt like I was caught in that Whirlpool’s spin cycle! I wrapped my arms around his head, pulling him to me as close as I could as I began cumming. It was earth shattering. 

We clung to each other like that for a few moments as I caught my breath, then I slid down to sit on the bench. The huge tent in Fitz’s navy slacks was at my eye level and I reached for his belt buckle. “You don’t. . .” he began. “Have to do that. . .” I finished. “I know, Fitz. I want to do this!” 

I got him unzipped and somehow pried his monumental erection out through the opening in his boxer briefs. I just stared at him for a moment. Each time I saw him like this was like the first time I’d ever seen him in all his enormous glory. It was difficult to be believe he really was that large and that magnificent. I leaned in to lick across the wide head of his cock, licking up the bead of pre-cum on its tip, and heard his breath hiss out between his teeth as if he’d been holding it, waiting for the touch of my mouth on his manhood. 

“Why does he have to be so big? I’ve got to get better at this!” I thought to myself as I tried to figure out how to unhinge my jaw so I could get more of Fitz inside me. I must have managed that, at least a bit, because I realized his huge head was working its way deeper into my mouth than it had ever been so far. I could feel one of Fitz’s hands cupped behind my head, gently pulling me further down onto him, as his other hand stroked my hair and the side of my face. He groaned happily as his cock slid farther into me. 

“Feels so good,” he whispered. “You get me so turned on, Izzy! I don’t know how you do it. . .” he said as he tried pushing himself deeper into my throat. I didn’t know how I was doing it, either. I was just happy that I was making him so happy! He began thrusting slowly in and out of my mouth. I could still see more than half of the long shaft outside of me, the two blue veins along its upper surface throbbing, but then I had to close my eyes as I felt them starting to cross! Instead I tried to focus on increasing the suction on the huge invader and working my tongue along the shaft and around the pebbly rim of his cock’s head. It was difficult, because there wasn’t much room to maneuver with my mouth so full, but apparently Fitz was pleased with my efforts because he was making contented noises as he kept sliding in and out of me. The head of Fitz’s cock began pushing into the back of my throat as Fitz grew more enthusiastic but it starting cutting off my breath and I began gagging unexpectedly. 

“Sorry, Izzy,” Fitz said. “You’re getting me so close.” His huge mitt tightened on my head and my throat felt like it was being besieged by a battering ram. I gagged again, which seemed to spur Fitz on to even more vigorous thrusting! “I’m there, Izzy,” he gasped. “I’m cumming!” I could feel him spurting deep inside my throat. As before, it seemed to go on and on, filling my already stuffed mouth to overflowing and starting to dribble down my chin. I did my best to swallow down his load and withdrew from his cock before it became to sensitive. With the edge of my hand I scraped up the overflow on my face and licked it off. It tasted slightly spicy and uniquely his. 

“Thank you, again!” he said. “I wasn’t being too rough?” he asked. “I was getting lost in what you were doing to me.”

“No. You were fine. I still am going to need more practice to be able to take all of you.” 

He pulled me up and gave me a soft kiss. “You can’t imagine how much I’d love to be completely inside you. But I might go out of my mind when it happens. You already make me feel like I’m losing it when you make me cum!”

I was happy it was pretty dark there in the shrubbery because I could feel myself blushing deeply. “Thanks,” I said. “I love being able to make you feel so good.” 

“You do,” said Fitz. “I’d like to spend the rest of the evening doing this, but we’re supposedly at a dinner party, so I think we’d better straighten ourselves up and get back to the house before absolutely everyone thinks we’ve been abducted.” 

“Yeah, we’ve been out here for a while. But I’d like to just be with you, and not back in the house,” I said.

“Listen, why don’t you come over to Norwood tomorrow when Jamie comes. I’m sure he and Chuck are going to sneak off by themselves five minutes after he arrives. We can get in another workout, if you’d like, and do a little sneaking up to my room afterwards. We’re not going to have many more chances before I have to go home to Pemberton.”

“Sure, I’d love to come over. I’m having some trouble realizing you really are going to be gone, soon.”

“We’ll talk, too,” Fitz said. “But come on, let’s get back to the rest of the guests before everyone figures out what we’ve been up to out here.”