Pride, Prejudice, and Porn

Part 28

It was a rushed Sunday morning, but somehow Jamie and I got ourselves to Norwood by two o’clock, as planned. Chuck and Fitz looked amazingly well-rested. I hadn’t slept as well the night before, thinking about spending more time with Fitz. 

Caroline seemed under the weather. It turned out she was putting herself through some trendy Tyrolean detox purge she read about in the new edition of Italian Vogue that had just arrived. I had my doubts about the wisdom of that. I suspected that Caroline overestimated her ability to read and understand Italian. Apparently she had come to breakfast rather late, announced she was doing a purge, and then chugged a large glass of something shockingly green she’d asked Mrs. Smythe to concoct for her based on a recipe in the Vogue article. Caroline mentioned that it contained spinach, water cress, sauerkraut juice, and several mystery herbs I didn’t even know you could find in Hartfield County. To be honest, I’m not sure you could buy them in Transylvania! The first dose had already been a few hours ago and Caroline had forced down a second glass of the stuff not long before Jamie and I arrived. No wonder she looked green around the gills!

Not ten minutes after we arrived Caroline belched audibly and excused herself to her room. “Sorry, guys,” she said. “I’m gonna have to use the, um, facilities, and then lie down for a while.” She got a kind of panicky scrunched-up look on her face and dashed for her lair. It looked like we were going to be spared Caroline’s wit, wisdom, and disapproving attitude for the rest of the day. I held my tongue because she is, after all, Chuck’s sister, but neither he, Fitz, nor Jamie seemed to be particularly sad that we were going to be deprived of her company. The new Vogue was on the end table next to where Caroline had been sitting and I picked it up to look for the detox article. I found the recipe and it dawned on me that in addition to not reading Italian fluently Caroline probably isn’t very good at metric conversions. I was willing to bet that the quantities and proportions she’d given to Mrs. Smythe were all wrong! That potion would probably have her living on the toilet for days!

I was brought back to my senses when I heard Chuck ask “What do you guys want to do?”  

“Well, Izzy and I actually planned to do another workout. He still needs to show me the stretching exercises he promised before we go home,” Fitz said.

“Jamie and I haven’t finished looking over all the etchings,” Chuck said, snickering. “We were going to spend the rest of the afternoon, uh, going over them.”

“You guys go ahead,” Fitz said. “But what do you want to do about dinner?” 

“How about going into town to eat?” Jamie asked. “Maybe around 6:00 o’clock? That would mean leaving here around 5:30.”

“That would work,” Chuck said. “I’m pretty sure we’ll be tired of etchings by then. Where do you want to eat?”

“How about Campina?” asked Jamie. “It’s the restaurant across the street from Cheval Blanc, where you and Izzy ate the other day, Fitz.”

“That sounds good to me,” I said. “I think you’ll like the food there,” I said to Chuck and Fitz. “They have some interesting South American things on the menu. The owner’s wife is Brazilian so they usually have some unusual specials.”

“I’m sure we’ll have a good appetite after our work out,” Fitz said. “Shall we all meet here at 5:30?”

“Yes,” I answered. “Jamie, would you call and make reservations for us? I guess it’ll just be us guys — Caroline didn’t look like she’s going to be anxious for dinner after drinking all that green stuff!” 

“No,” said Chuck. “She gets on these kicks and lives to regret them. She’s just going to want to stay in until she’s over whatever she’s done to herself today!”

“I looked at that recipe in the magazine,” I said. “If I’m right, I’ve got a feeling she’s really going to regret this one. You might want to suggest she stick with laxative recipes  in English from now on!” I thought I heard Fitz snicker behind me.

“OK,” said Fitz. “C’mon, Izzy, let’s change and go tackle the gym while these two go mad over etchings!”

And we did. 

Fitz and I spent some time going over some stretches he could do to loosen up his shoulder and arm muscles. “I’m glad we’re doing this,” Fitz said. “I realize I’m getting a little too bulked up. It’s not like when I was playing sports at school — all the exercise on the field helped keep me more flexible. I’m not doing as much of that now and I guess I’ve been getting a little musclebound without realizing it.” 

“When you get home you should start working with a good trainer for a while,” I suggested. “These stretches should get you started, but I’m certainly no pro! I’m sure a trainer can help you with some more focused exercises that will help keep you more flexible. Everyday life isn’t like when you were playing football. You need a different approach.”

“Well,” said Fitz, “you sure seem like a pro to me! You’ve been making me melt regularly since we started, um, working out!”

I blushed. “I’m glad you like what we’ve been doing, but seriously, it’s not a substitute for working with a trainer who really knows what they’re doing. At least for your back and shoulder issues.”

“Are you up for some more jacuzzi and sauna time?” Fitz asked.

“Yeah, I am, actually,” I responded. “You probably don’t believe me, considering how we’ve been spending our time, but I enjoy both, just on their own! Of course, sharing them with you makes them even better!”

“OK, then, let’s rinse off and do them. It isn’t going to be the same using them by myself when I’m back home at Pemberton,” said Fitz.

We took a quick rinse and climbed into the Jacuzzi. “I turned the temperature down a little,” said Fitz. “I don’t know who’s been setting it, but they don’t seem to realize it’s supposed to be relaxing, not for boiling vegetables!” 

We both groaned appreciatively as we lowered ourselves into the churning water. There still wasn’t much room for both of us on the built-in seat. 

“If you’d like,” Fitz said, “Instead of being squeezed on the bench, you could be squeezed sitting on my lap.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Deal!” I answered. “As long as you throw in a back rub with that offer!”

“You’re on!” Fitz said. “Climb aboard!”

I remembered we were both naked. “Just so we’re clear,” I said, “I’m not offering to ride the pony. Not today, at least. Are you OK with that?”

“Izzy, I’m OK with whatever you want to do. When you’re ready, we can do that. But for my part I hope that when it happens we’ll be in bed, not in the gym! It should be something special!”

I settled myself onto Fitz’s lap, facing his mammoth chest. He hugged me tightly to him, but then loosened his grip and I could feel his huge mitts beginning to massage my shoulders. The warmth of the swirling water combined with the warmth of Fitz’s body had me groaning ecstatically within minutes! “Does that feel good, babe?” I heard him ask.

“Beyond good!” I moaned.

“I’m glad,” Fitz whispered into my ear. “I got more than my share of massages when I was playing football. I hope I at least learned how to give one!”

“Mmmm!” I sighed. “I’d say so. If anything ever happens to DarCo, you definitely have a marketable skill there, big guy!”

“Good to know,” Fitz chuckled. His hands hands drifted lower down my back, kneading into my back muscles and pressing into more tender areas along my spine.  

“Oh, yeah,” I murmured. “Now I’m really going to be sorry you’re going home so soon. I’m going to miss this!”

“Like I said, you have an open invitation to visit,” Fitz answered back, hugging me close again. 

When he relaxed his grip I leaned into the deep cleft between his massive pecs and began licking and nibbling. Underneath me I suddenly felt a lurch and a throb from King Kong! “You don’t think I’m going to miss this, too?” Fitz asked. 

He adjusted himself a bit on the bench so he was leaning farther back against the side of the jacuzzi and pulled me down into his chest a bit more. I licked my way across one of his pecs to his nipple and began nibbling it gently. I felt some more lurches down below as he encircled me with his arms. “Isn’t feeling this good supposed to be illegal, or something?” Fitz asked. “Go on. Keep nibbling! You’re amazing!” One of his hands drifted up to my head and I felt his fingers slowly making ringlets of my wet hair. I couldn’t imagine feeling more comfortable and content than at that moment. Whatever else, Fitz and I just seemed to fit together, like we were shaped for each other despite the difference in our sizes. This wasn’t like being a square peg in a round hole. Not in the least! 

We clung together for a while like that. I could barely think about moving, but eventually Fitz shifted and began standing up, lifting me up with him. He turned and set me down on the edge of the hot tub and began doing unto me what I had been doing unto him. After another of his overpowering kisses he licked down to my neck and then my chest. By now there could be no doubt that my nipples were somehow linked to my cock, so his licking and nibbling had me rock hard in instants. He bent lower and began sucking my cock and once again I felt myself engulfed in Fitz’s furnace of a mouth. If he hadn’t been in front of me with his arms around my waist I’d have pitched forward into the pool just from the sensation overwhelming me. I was so relaxed and so heated from having been in the jacuzzi that it was hard to control myself. It didn’t take much longer before I was writhing and moaning and cumming into his mouth! 

“Mmm,” I heard, as Fitz climbed out of the pool and picked up my limp body which he carried into the shower. In my post-orgasmic state I could hardly say a word. Fitz turned on the water and the tepid blast began reviving me. “Just a rinse. Then we can squeeze into the sauna.” Fitz stepped into the next stall to rinse himself down as I slowly did the same in a bit of a daze. Within a couple of minutes Fitz had finished and ducked back into the sauna. I followed to find him sprawled, yet again, on the upper bench of the sauna, in that alluring Tom of Finland pose! I spread out my damp towel on the lower bench and took my now-usual position between his widespread legs. No sooner had I settled between them, leaning back against the upper bench, than I felt Fitz shift and the hot, heavy weight of his cock and balls come to rest on my right shoulder. “I hope you don’t mind?” Fitz asked as his left hand stroked my hair. “King Kong was missing you.” 

I turned my head to my right and gave King Kong a smooch. “I don’t know how you always seem to know how to do what feels best, Munch, but you do!” Fitz murmured.

“Munch? Really?”

“Well, somehow in just a few days you’ve become my favorite Munchkin!” Fitz said.

“OK, I can see that this meme is never going away,” I replied, reaching up my right hand to begin petting the heavy, smooth monster plopped onto my shoulder. “But if you’re calling me Munch, I’m calling you Shrek! It fits you, as a huge, mostly good-natured ogre! I’m glad you aren’t green, though!”

“Fair enough,” Fitz said, ruffling my hair a bit more vigorously. “I can live with that!” His left hand dropped to my shoulder, which he began massaging. “Could I talk you into treating King Kong to some of that voodoo that you do so well?”

“Let me know how this is,” I giggled, as I turned and tried doing my own hungry python imitation. I was pleased to see that I must be getting better at it. It seemed easier to engulf the massive head of Fitz’s cock and slide several inches of the shaft into my mouth.

“My God, that’s good!” Fitz gasped. His hand circled my head and gently tried pulling me even further down his cock shaft as his massive thighs closed against me, keeping me from pulling away from him. It felt so good I had to stop what I was doing for a moment. “What?” he asked. “Why did you stop?”

I came up for air. “I just discovered a fetish I never knew I had! Squeezing me between your thighs like this is practically making me cum! Just hold me here for, like, forever?” I went back to work on my python thing, pushing myself down on his huge cock as far as I could. I overdid it, I realized, when I began gagging and coughing!

Fitz stopped trying to thrust himself farther into me. Instead he just held my head on him and tightened his thighs against my sides. “You can stay like this for as long as you want, Munch,” he murmured. “This pretty much feels perfect!” 

I pulled up again. “I could get really used to this, myself,” I sighed. “But this is kind of an awkward position for a conversation. Your choice, Shrek! Chat or voodoo?”

“Voodoo, Munch! You’re right. We can chat afterward!”

“OK,” I sighed. I waved my hand around the head of Fitz’s cock and said “Abracadabra!” For a moment I wondered again how I’d ever be able to manage taking all of him in my throat, but then I plunged back down to my task.

Was it the “Abracadabra?” Or the warmth of the sauna? Or the feeling of being enclosed between Fitz’s tree-trunk thighs? Or all three? Somehow, muscles I didn’t even realize I had seemed to relax, and my gag reflex went on vacation. Hardly even realizing it I suddenly found that the enormous head of Fitz’s cock had slipped through my throat and was slding deeper inside me.

I felt Fitz shudder and moan. “My God,” he gasped. “You’ve got almost all of it!” I hummed in satisfaction, and the vibration seemed to excite Fitz even more. “Izzy, you’re making me cum!” he moaned. He squeezed tighter as his hands held my head down on him. “Oh, God, I’m there!” he groaned, as I felt myself suddenly being flooded by his hot juice! It seemed like a deluge, but he was far enough inside me that, for the first time, he wasn’t overflowing my mouth. I somehow managed to gulp and swallow his load before having to come up to take a breath.

Fitz pulled me close to his chest, kissing the top of my head. “That was unbelievable!” he whispered. “Nobody’s managed that much before!” 

“You’ve gotta be kidding,” I gasped. 

“Seriously,” Fitz said. “You may not believe me but I haven’t been with all that many guys. I’m kind of not in a position to go with just anyone. The guys I’ve been with all try, and some were pretty good, but I think the problem is obvious! I don’t know how you managed to do that. I’m still shaking from it!”

“I don’t know how I did that,” I confessed. “I just somehow relaxed and the next thing I knew you were sliding inside me, and I wasn’t gagging or anything! I just hope I can manage to do that again!”

“I sure as hell hope you can, too. It was incredible!” Fitz hugged me harder. “Do you want to go take a shower and cool down? We’ve been back in this sauna for quite a while now.”

“We’d better,” I sighed. “I don’t really want them to find us passed out like this if they have to come searching for us!”

I stood up carefully and reluctantly stepped out from between Fitz’s legs. I grabbed my towel and tottered to the showers, with Fitz close behind. It definitely took a while under the cold water to start feeling like our temperatures were back to normal. We realized we’d been in the gym and sauna for quite a while — we’d need to get a move on back at the house to get changed before driving to Marysville for dinner.

Part 29

We got ourselves cleaned up nicely. Chuck stuck his head in Caroline’s door to confirm that she wasn’t planning to join us. We could hear a moan and gurgle that seemed pretty conclusive that Caroline wasn’t going anywhere. “She looks like she took a ride in a cement mixer,” said Chuck. “I keep telling her not to fall for these fad cures, and she keeps on doing them!”

On the drive into town Chuck said “I hope you and Izzy are planning on staying overnight? You don’t have to be back at Longacre this evening, do you?” He and Fitz looked at us hopefully.

“Jamie?” I looked at my big brother. “I don’t have to be back tonight. Do you?” Jamie shook his head “no.” 

“Good,” Chuck said happily. “We won’t have to hurry through dinner, or anything else then.”

We got to town just in time and parked. Our table was waiting for us when we walked into the restaurant. The owner, Jack Duncan, greeted and seated us. He and his Brazilian wife, Marielle, opened the place a few years ago, right around the time a burgeoning little tourism boomlet also convinced Julie and Sarah to open Cheval Blanc diagonally across the intersection. The two places had definitely been an upgrade to the local food scene!

We ordered caipirinhas to start while perusing the menu, which helpfully explained that the bistro’s name, “Campina” was a Portuguese word for “meadow,” inspired by Hartfield County’s beautiful countryside. “Ooh! We’re in luck! They have moqueca tonight!” I exclaimed.

“I don’t think I’m familiar with that. What is it?” asked Fitz. 

“It’s my favorite here, when they have it,” I answered. “It’s this fantastic fish and shrimp stew in a coconut milk sauce with tomato and cilantro and Brazilian peppers and I don’t know what else. Served with coconut rice. I know I’m making it sound like Thai food, but the flavor is completely different!” 

“That sounds really good, actually,” said Chuck. “I’ve never had Brazilian food.”

“Neither had anyone else around here, until Jack and Marielle started adding it to their menu. They actually have quite a few South American things now, not just Brazilian ones,” Jamie offered. “But the moqueca has become really popular.”

“What else do you recommend?” asked Fitz. 

“A hearts-of-palm salad makes a great starter,” I replied. “The Brazilian appetizer plate is good — it’s an assortment of little fried pastries and croquettes filled with shrimp and chicken and stuff. The Argentine empanadas are really good, too. I always have trouble deciding on what to get. Oh, and we’ve got to get a couple of baskets of the Brazilian cheese bread. Or maybe a truckload! They look small and harmless but they’re worse than crack, they’re so addictive!”

“By the way,” I added. “I’m not a big drinker, so if you guys want to have more caipirinhas, go ahead. I’ll be happy to drive after dinner.”

“It sounds like you’ve got everything well in hand,” said Chuck.

“Well, these are some of my favorite things, but everything I’ve had here is good, so if you see something else that appeals to you go for it!” I said.

“I see something that appeals to me,” said Fitz, leering at me. “But I think that’ll be an after-dinner treat!” I gave him a kick under the table. 

Jack came over to take our orders and chat for a few minutes, as he hadn’t yet met the new owner of Norwood Acres. Fitz was an extra added attraction. We didn’t get many mega-billionaire visitors to Hartfield County. The Darcys are much richer than the Windsors, our last previous conspicuously wealthy tourists. I guess Fitz was used to strangers bowing and scraping, but he behaved perfectly normally and, soon, so did Jack. He suggested that two of us order the moqueca and the other two the bobó de camarão, another shrimp stew dish based on coconut and manioc. They’d come to the table in large cauldrons from which we could serve ourselves family style so everyone could sample the main courses. That sounded appealing and we took Jack’s suggestion.

Another round of caipirinhas appeared at the table, along with the cheese bread we’d ordered. If you’ve never had it, it looks like crispy little golden balls of puff pastry, with an airy, chewy, cheesy interior that hardly anyone can resist. Chuck and Fitz obviously had never experienced it before because within minutes they were positively inhaling the addictive little bites. 

“Jamie,” Chuck said. “Let’s get festive tonight because Caroline and I are going to have to head back to Cleveland by the end of the week. It looks like the main house at Norwood is going to need major upgrading, not just the outbuildings. There are some pretty serious plumbing and electrical problems Lamar found, so it’s going to be a lot of work. It’ll be a lot easier if I’m out of the house while it’s all being done.”

“That means it’s time for me to go home to Pemberton, too,” said Fitz. “I’ve been putting it off, but Gloria’s coming home from school at the end of next week and I need to be back before she arrives.” 

We all stared at each other glumly. “I knew you guys couldn’t stay forever,” said Jamie. “But now that the time is here, I can’t say I’m happy about it.” 

“Me neither,” said Chuck. “But it can’t be for more than a few months. At least the main house should be habitable again by then.”

“What are you going to do?” I asked. “Are you staying in Cleveland?” 

“I’m not sure. For a while, but I might go spend a couple of months in Europe,” said Chuck. “I’ve only been there a few times for short stays. But I’ve got friends with a house on Mallorca, so I may take them up on their invitation to stay for a while. Actually, they’re more friends of Caroline’s than mine, but they’ve been after us for ages to come visit. I could use a change from Cleveland and all the usual places, and Norwood will be a mess for a while until all the work is done.”

“We’ll figure something out,” said Jamie, ever the optimist.

“Suddenly I wish I hadn’t volunteered to be designated driver,” I said. “I kind of feel the need for a pitcher full of those caipirinhas!”

“C’mon, Izzy,” said Fitz. “Jamie’s right. You know you can come visit at Pemberton.”

“Jamie’s always right,” I sighed. “I knew you’d have to go home sometime. You have a whole life to attend to back East. I just kept putting the inevitable out of mind.”

A cute waiter I hadn’t seen before materialized at our table, setting down the appetizer assortment we’d ordered. 

“Yum!” said Chuck, as a thread of melted cheese spun from his mouth after he’d bitten into a crispy cheese turnover. “Call me shallow, but this is already putting me in a better mood.”

“It’s a bump in the road,” I said philosophically, with all the experience of my nineteen years. “We’ll survive it. And I agree with Chuck. I guess I’m shallow, too,” I said as I bit into a delectably juicy coxinha, a teardrop-shaped chicken croquette. “Would you pass me one of those melted cheese thingies, please?”

The delicious food and the caipirinhas were rapidly improving everyone’s mood. The main courses arrived in a couple of big covered cast-iron skillets and we were soon mooing contentedly over the unusual but delicious seafood stews we’d ordered. Marielle, who was cooking that evening, took a break to came out of the kitchen and schmooze for a few minutes, and her sparkly personality also picked up the spirit. 

We ordered Brazilian espressos to complete our dinners and Jack and Marielle sent out complimentary quindins, staggeringly rich little coconut calorie bombs to leave a sweet taste in our mouths before we wended our way back to Norwood. 

When we returned the house was quiet. There didn’t seem to be any lights on in Caroline’s room so Chuck and Jamie headed quietly to Chuck’s suite while Fitz and I did the same to his suite. 

We peeled off our clothes and climbed into the huge bed that Chuck had installed before Fitz came to visit — as an old friend he knew Fitz needed lots of extra space to accommodate his hulking frame. 

Author's Note

Please be prepared for longer intervals between Chapters from now on. I'm still writing this hommage to Jane Austen, but I've now published all the pre-written material with which I began this effort. From now on each Chapter will go up as I finish writing it. I hope to be able to maintain a fairly steady writing and publishing pace, but it will probably be three or four days between chapters (or more) unless I manage to get into a major productivity burst! 

I think I have a pretty good idea of how to bring this tale to a satisfying Austenian ending, so please bear with me. There will be longer stretches without lots of explicit sex because the boys are going to be separated for a while. There might be some phone sex, but no promises because that's not my strong suit, even in real life! Stay tuned to see if the muse strikes during this dry patch for Jamie and Chuck, and Izzy and Fitz. All will end well, though, and sexily enough! This is a comedy of manners and porn, not Macbeth! 

Finally, a word to the wise: don't try Caroline's badly-translated Tyrolean purge formula at home! Gurlfriend is already deeply regretting it, herself! On the other hand, by all means try Mrs. Bennett's juniper ragout (cf. Marcella Hazan's "Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking" for pork stew with porcini and juniper) and the moqueca and other Brazilian delicacies (cf. "Book of Latin American Cooking" by Elisabeth Lambert Ortiz). You will definitely not regret those!