Arthur was at a loss of words and Gupta had never felt more embarrassed, trying to cover his naked body from Sri Arthur with a dirty tablecloth he had put aside to wash it later. His father didn't know what to do, as his member was still inside the cute servant and his eldest son – who he had caught masturbating previously, but what he was doing was something completely different and graver – was standing in front of them. Arthur cleared his throat as he went red as a cherry. He had never wondered his father would be so handsome and so... hot, but he shook his head and turned around "You can... p-pull out now" he struggled to say.
Pounding on the door was heard throughout the house as Peter tried to get in desperately. Their father quickly grabbed his' and Gupta's clothes. They both got dressed and their faces couldn't have been redder. Gupta knew what he was doing was wrong and Howard did also. Hell, if someone of his circle of friends or acquaintances found out, he could be suspended or even kicked out of the army! Above all, he didn't know what his son would think of his sodomy. He didn't want to lose his little cherry.
Howard, once completely dressed and his hair fixed, went over to his son, who had still his back at them, and put his hands on his shoulders, which were shaking. He had failed as a father! He had thought of himself before thinking of his sons' benefits or what they would feel when they found out that their father had fallen in love, madly in love, with another man, which turned out to be their most trusted servant! He had been a horrible father "Little cherry, please..."
Arthur slowly turned around and Howard's eyes widened as he saw that his shoulders were not shaking because he was holding back tears, but because he was trying not to laugh out loud! But upon seeing his father's worried face and Gupta's red one, he started laughing like the most common peasant in the land, bending down and slapping his thighs and wrapping his arms around himself as he felt his tummy ache with so much laughter. He had never thought anything like that could occur, but there it was, right in front of his eyes...
His dad fucking another bloke!
Howard narrowed his eyes and Gupta crossed his arms over his chest, tapping his small foot on the kitchen chequered floor waiting for Arthur to stop laughing, which, to them, was utterly disrespectful even though what they had been doing previously had crossed all the boundaries. Arthur wiped a tear from his eye as his laughter subsided and he could look at his father without giggling "Are you done?" his father asked, with his hands on his hips.
Arthur's lips trembled as he nodded, his green eyes clouded with tears. He would have said 'yes', but he was afraid that if he opened his mouth, he would start laughing all over again and his father wouldn't be pleased. Although, in the situation they were in, his father was not in position to act as a moral authority. Howard sighed and sat down in one of the kitchen table's chairs. Gupta brought him a glass of water and looked at Arthur with sheepish eyes.
"I t-think... ha... t-ha-that we should let Naheen in..." Arthur said and then started giggling on his way to the door. He opened it revealing an angry and red Peter with his arms crossed in front of his chest "Come in" Arthur said, holding back his giggles as he stepped back and let Peter in. The boy glared at his older brother and walked past him, reserving the right to step on his foot for leaving him locked out of the house in the scorching heat.
Peter walked into the kitchen, followed by Arthur, who was red all over and was still trying to stifle his giggles with his hands on his mouth. His green eyes were twinkling. Howard broke the silence as Gupta limped over to Peter with a glass of cold milk with sprinkled cinnamon and brown sugar he loved so much. Arthur snorted seeing the state of their formerly composed and always-correct servant Gupta was reduced to. He glared at his secret lover's eldest son from beneath his white pagri, which had come slightly undone from the rough thrusts of Sri Howard. Arthur giggled a bit at that thought. Peter looked at him and then at his father before downing his milk. The three men in the room were blushing.
Howard cleared his throat and broke the silence "Well, I think that it's best if I tell you the truth, boys" he said defeated. Over the years, he had become a role model for his sons, but now, he was reduced to a horny old man who couldn't wait until his children were asleep to have a good time like he always did. He looked at Gupta, who was standing at the farthest corner of the kitchen, with his hands crossed over his clothed belly, looking down at the floor in utter shame "Gupta and I had been friends ever since we arrived here, a good couple of years ago" he said and they both smiled.
Arthur wasn't laughing anymore, instead, hearing patiently what his father had to say and grabbing Peter's small shoulders. He had to prepare himself to make the same speech to tell him he was in a relationship with Francis if everything went well in the next couple of days. He might have not shown it at first, upon discovering the two in the act, but he was relieved. He had felt relieved like he had never felt before, because it meant that he was not the only one in the family dealing with that sort of problem.
"But" his father continued, looking at their children. How could he had done this to them? How could he had done this to Gupta, his old friend? He had found something in him that he hadn't found in any of the native women he had fooled around with. He had found a person that would stay with him for the night and don't leave the following morning; someone who would care for him and for his children like a mother would; someone who would love him unconditionally "We became more than friends, over the years... naturally, I think" he said, shrugging and not daring to meet their children's eyes. Especially Peter's.
Peter tilted his head to the side in confusion. He was very smart for his age, something Mademoiselle Bonnefoy always told him and complimented him about, but there were some things that a little boy raised in a Christian environment could not understand. Like a man's urges for another man "What are you talking about, daddy?" he asked, and the sweet innocence of his voice went straight to Howard's heart. He felt his eyes watering and his shoulders started to shake as he tried to control himself. Arthur left Peter's side and went over to his father.
"Daddy, it's okay. I understand you" he whispered in his ear and Howard looked up from his hands in which he was covering his face. He must have looked pathetic, a man his age being comforted by his teenage son about a case of sodomy "You don't have to tell Naheen that. You can do that when he is older" he whispered, caressing his father's shoulders. Gupta brought him a glass of cold water that Arthur thanked with a smile. He had no resentment towards the servant. How could he resent the man who had practically raised him along with his father?
Howard smiled at his eldest son. He had always been a really good person, very kind and empathetic with other people's problems. He wasn't good at giving advice, but this time was the exception. He could tell Peter when he was older and he would be prepared to deal with this kind of information. For the time being, Howard told Arthur to take care of Peter as he went to his bedroom and spent the remainder of the day locked inside. He even refused Gupta's dinner when he brought a plate for him in a silver tray.
When Peter had gone to sleep, Arthur approached Gupta from the doorstep of Peter's room "Gupta" the Indian servant was startled at the sudden noise breaking the calm of the night and his thoughts about his lover's wellbeing. He turned around with a serene expression on his face. He was still wary about looking at Arthur in the eyes, after all that he had seen that afternoon "I would like to talk to you, please" the British boy said walking away from the room. Gupta looked at a sleeping Peter for good measure. He looked like a fallen angel, surrounded by a bright halo; he could not possibly deal with the fact that his daddy, the most adored figure besides his brother, was a sinner! Gupta couldn't forgive himself for having broken a family apart.
In the kitchen, Arthur was waiting for the Indian servant, who appeared out of the darkness of the dining hall and stood across from him, the round table between them. Arthur motioned for him to take a seat and so he did. Gupta was fidgeting with the ends of his sarong as Arthur was trying to find the right words to start the conversation. He took a large breath and began "First, I want you to know that whatever I had seen today... doesn't change at all the fact that you are my best friend and my loyal confidant, you always had. You are like a second father for me" Arthur said and, on a second thought and with a slight hint of humour, added "Well, more like the mother I never had" he smiled and Gupta smiled too.
"I must say, it took me by surprise. I never knew you or my father was..." Arthur trailed off looking down at his intertwined fingers over the table. Gupta looked down at the floor on shame. He knew he had traded service for love, and that he wasn't acting according to the sacred Vedic texts that had ruled his family and his motherland for centuries, even before the Brits were a thing. But he loved that man, and he loved his children, and he was sure both of those parts loved him too. Arthur then continued "But I will support you no matter what and..." Arthur looked right into the Indian's almond eyes "... you will still be my best friend" he reached across the table and took Gupta's hands into his own.
Gupta was close to tears of joy, but he couldn't let his feelings act before his manners, so he took a second to compose himself and then spoke "Thank you, Sri Arthur, and I am deeply ashamed that you had to find out that way" Arthur waved it off with a small smile on his face "But I do really love your father, and I think that he loves me, too. I promise that nothing will change" he hurriedly said.
"Well, I'm glad it was you and not some whore that conquered my daddy's heart" Arthur said with a smile and they both laughed. Arthur yawned into his mouth and got up, Gupta got up as well "Very well, this has been a certainly long day and I need to rest. Goodnight... mommy" he winked as he left the kitchen. Gupta was smiling with a hint of blush in his cheeks.
Arthur got into his bed and he didn't even had to count to ten before he fell asleep, not minding the sounds of the rainforest outside his locked window. His father had not locked it, but he had in his place, so, there was no problem with sleeping that night, at least for Arthur and Peter, who had been sleeping like a log.
Gupta changed into his nightwear and tiptoed to the master bedroom. He opened the door very slowly and entered the room, where a sleeping Howard was found, right in the centre of the bed with his muscular arms spread on each side. Gupta smiled fondly at his lover. He was very masculine and rough when he wanted to be, like around his buddies, who had come to the house in more than one occasion to have a beer and just chill, but he was also a big softie that loved to cuddle and hug. He showed that with his children, and, privately, with him.
Gupta went over to the nightstand and blew the candle off as he cuddled against his lover in the bed. Howard then, in his sleep, moved to the side Gupta was cuddling in and sank his head into the Indian servant's nice-smelling hair. He breathed in the scent and smiled, sleepily mumbling "Gupta, my love" said man smiled fondly as Howard wrapped a heavy arm around his petite frame.
"Vraiment? Dans le kitchen counter?" Francis asked lying on his comfortable King sized bed, his blue eyes full of tears and a wide grin stretching in his handsome face, to Arthur, who was lying next to him, a silver tray with grapes and fine French cheese in between them. Arthur had been telling, between grape and grape, the story of how he realised his father was one of those. The Brit giggled as he took a supple grape from the cluster and putting it between his rosy lips sensually, making Francis' member harder than it already was.
They had been teasing each other for nearly half an hour. It had started off as an innocent flirting game, but then it got sensual and Arthur wanted to prove Francis that his lips were just as good as his' were on that area, but he didn't know how to approach the subject. There was a large tent at the front of his thin sarong and Francis' erection was contained in his dark green slacks.
"Francis" the teen's hand wandered up his thigh and stopped at his hip. The Frenchman was getting excited. There was something he loved about Arthur asides from his beautiful looks – if you ignored the bushy eyebrows which desperately needed trimming – and that was his youth. Ever since he was a lad, he had fancied boys from fourteen to sixteen years old, because he thought that they were sexually confused, giving the opportunity for a man to shower them with attention, but once they got past that age, they realised that what they were doing was wrong in this crazy conservative society they lived in, and probably went off to marry some girl.
Francis had experienced it firsthand.
Ten years ago, at the tender age of eighteen years old, he had mustered enough confidence to accept and manifest his love for a beautiful sixteen year old boy, back in Lyon, his native town. His name was Michel Éclair, funny name, he had thought back then. The boy was gorgeous, and Arthur was his spitting image: smooth skin, so pale and pure, bright green eyes in which you could see all his emotions if you looked closely, rosy supple lips and a nice round bottom that had made Francis cum so many nights in a row, just thinking about it, with his hand wrapped around his thick member.
Michel was receptive of his attentions, always blushing and giggling. He would pick him up after class hours in the institute he attended. It was a Catholic all boys' school run by priests, so it was almost natural that some of the boys turned out with small sexual deviations after having played around with their classmates. Michel told him that he wished he could have friends "You have me" Francis said to him every time he got sad thinking about it, and that prompted a steamy make-out session, in the back of Francis' father's car.
Francis lost his virginity to Michel. He had been crying at first "It hurts so much, Francis! S'il te plaît!" but Francis would just kiss him in the lips. Then, as if it had been the work of a magical fairy godmother, Michel started to enjoy himself more and more as he screamed and told Francis to go faster. After their intense orgasms, they had cuddled together. Francis was glad that his parents were out of town, because Michel had been too loud "Je t'aime" they both had said to each other.
But words are gone with the wind.
One day, weeks after Michel's seventeenth birthday, Francis went over to Saint Antoine de Padoue Institut to pick his boyfriend up when he saw him coming out of the school doors, arm in arm with a cute blonde girl, kissing her nose and cheeks. The girl was giggling and she went off with her friends in an opposite direction "Michel, what was that?" Francis had asked, but he received no answer as the boy kept walking down the street, the older following him.
"Don't you understand?! I don't want you to follow me! What we did was wrong! It was dégénéré!" Michel said loudly and Francis' heart just broke when he confessed he was going to try to straighten himself up and date girls. Apparently, some priest from the school had caught them embracing and touching unnaturally in school grounds, so he had told his parents. That had been his first love and it had ended the worst way.
The following year, he found out that Michel had been murdered by some other man because he had been secretly having an affair with his girlfriend.
'C'est la vie'he had thought, and closed the newspaper to never open one again in his life.
"Francis!" Arthur snapped two fingers in front of his dull blue eyes. The Frenchman recomposed himself and looked at the cute Brit with a smile on his face "You were gone for a few seconds" he said, kind of worried.
"It was nothing" Francis took the boy's hand and kissed it "Mon amour"
As he had previously stated... words were gone with the wind.
So, this chapter was kind of weird to me, but I hope it isn't for you. I hope you liked it and leave a little comment.
As always, thank you for reading my story, and I hope I won't disappoint you in the future.