1 Chapter 1

1

Dale caught sight of Walton Manor through the spotted and scratched window of the taxi. At last, he thought. The journey had been a long one and knowing it would soon reach its conclusion made him immensely happy, if only because it meant he could escape the confines of the cab and the overpowering stench of its driver’s stale body odour.

He scooted across the cracked and worn vinyl seat and wound the window down to better see the impressive structure and its picturesque surrounds.

“Hey Mister, put ya seatbelt back on. Come on! Ya want me to get a fine?” bawled the pot-bellied taxi driver.

“Who’s going to fine you?” Dale replied, ignoring the order and leaning further out the window. “This is private property.”

The taxi driver shook his head and muttered something in a foreign language.

Dale closed his eyes. The breeze tousling his hair had an almost meditative effect and it sure felt good to fill his nostrils with clean, fresh country air. Already he could feel the stress of his trip disintegrating, its ashes blowing away in the wind, trailing behind them in an invisible cloud. When he opened them again, his uncle’s grand manor house was looming large and the sound of tyres crunching on brushed pebbles filled his ears. Finally, they stopped with a screech of the hand brake and a lurch at the front steps.

“How much?” Dale asked, lifting his right buttock from the seat to retrieve the wallet from his back pocket.

“Let’s call it $80,” said the driver, looking into the rear-view mirror and holding his hand out.

Dale leaned through the gap in the front seats and pushed four twenties into the driver’s hand. At the same time he noticed that the meter read $75.80. Bastard!But he wasn’t going to haggle over a couple of dollars. He probably would have told the old guy to keep the change anyway. He was in that kind of mood.

After clambering out of the cab Dale hurried around to the back of the vehicle.

“Can you pop the trunk?” he called out, realising the driver had exhausted his supply of customer service on the long drive out. He could hear his step-mother’s voice, ‘No such thing as service these days.’ And she was right.

The lid of the trunk sprang up with a bounce. Dale reached in and lifted out three suitcases, each one heavier than the last. Did he really have that many clothes? Unusual for someone whose uniform was usually a T-shirt and a pair of old denim jeans.

“What’s all this noise then?”

Dale spun around. “Uncle Tomas!”

“Ahhh, call me Tom. We’re both adults.”

They laughed and Dale threw his arms around the man he had idolised since childhood; the man he had known as uncle, although there was absolutely no family resemblance. There had always been an air of mystery surrounding him, something unspoken and bypassed when questioned outright, but that just endeared the man to him more.

“It’s so good to see you,” Dale said, beaming.

Tom didn’t reply. Instead he stretched his neck back a fraction and scrutinised the handsome young man in his arms. His pale blue eyes scanned Dale’s face, quite obviously drinking in every feature.

“You certainly have grown up,” said Tom, his eyes refusing to take a rest.

Dale felt his tanned cheeks flush. His heart began to quicken and he averted his eyes from his uncle’s pale, sculpted features.

“I guess I have,” said Dale, releasing his arms and pulling away from the embrace.

“Not so fast,” said Tom. “I haven’t seen you since you were fifteen or sixteen. I want to enjoy this moment. “He scratched Dale under the chin. “And what’s this? Whiskers. How rugged.”

Dale replaced his arms around his uncle’s torso and rested his cheek on the man’s broad shoulder. He allowed himself to relax into the hug. His nostrils caught the faint scent of cologne, a manly, woody fragrance, but only a hint of it. His uncle’s body was warm and solid and it wasn’t long before he realised he could feel his uncle’s cock against his thigh. Was it hard or just large? He couldn’t make up his mind. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. However, the more he tried not to think about it, the more his attention remained on the organ pressing against his leg. Even worse, he could feel his own cock beginning to swell.

“So where’s my room?” he said, stepping back.

“Let’s grab your bags and I’ll take you up. Joseph is preparing drinks for us, but I think we can manage three suitcases between us. You remember Joseph, don’t you?”

Dale nodded and followed his uncle inside. The soles of their shoes echoed in the great entrance hall as they walked across the black and white marble tiles towards the staircase. Everything was much as he remembered it…the apple green walls that always reminded him of summer and the elaborately carved ceiling roses from which oversized chandeliers hung, the potted palms standing like sentinels in glazed white ceramic pots along the walls and the crimson carpet which cascaded down the stairway like a river of blood, held in place by golden rods. It even smelled good, thanks to the massive hand-carved crystal vases overflowing with abundant blooms that stood in nearly every room of the magnificent house.