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Jimmy the Love-Virus. 


By John T. S. Teller. 


Part five 


Eleven-thirty on Monday morning, and I'm just about to go into a meeting with Clive and our publishers, when my new mobile rings. I don't recognize the number; "Hello, Rob Spencer here."


"Hiya, Rob. It's Sam speaking. I need to talk to you urgently. I'm low on credit. Can you phone me back, please?" 


"Sure. Clear down, Sam; I'll call you right back." 


I find my last caller's number and press `dial'. 


"Hi, Sam. Is your mum ok?"


"She's ok. It isn't her I want to talk about; it's Jimmy. It's ok; he's not hurt or anything. I just need to talk to you about him. It's important."


"How did you get this number?"


"If I tell you, will you promise me faithfully that you won't tell Jimmy? He'll kill me if he knows what I've done."


"That sounds serious. It had better be good. Go on then."


"When you were on television, and you said you'd be sending a letter telling somebody your new phone number, we knew you'd be sending it to Jimmy."


"Who is `we'?"


"Me and Mum, and Jimmy's mum. I wouldn't have bothered, but something happened after you'd finished on TV, and it needs to be sorted. We was hoping your letter would get here today, so I've sneaked this morning off. The Postie doesn't get to Jimmy's until about ten, so I was there waiting for it. I've steamed it open."


"You've what! You'd better have a bloody good reason Sam, or you and your mother will be on your bike. That was a personal letter to Jimmy."


"Hold your horses until you've heard me out, Rob. I know it sounds wrong, but I wouldn't have done it unless it was for Jimmy. Anyway, I steamed it open and got the number, and now I'm talking to you."


"Where are you now?"


"I'm at home. Mum is at your place. What I've got to say is only between you and me. Although it says in the note that you're missing him, I want to know how you really feel about Jimmy."


"You're being a bit previous, Sam. It's none of your business."


"Rob, listen to me very carefully. I don't give Jack Shit what you think... all I'm concerned about is Jimmy. Now, if you think anything about him, you'll answer me. I want to know how you feel about him. If he's just a kid you're having a bit of fun with, then I need to know. Jimmy needs to know, before he's ill again."


"Ill again? What do you mean?"


"Jeezus Christ! Will you answer the question? Are you very fond of him? Yes or No?"


I'm angry, but now I'm worried. Sam won't be talking to me like this if something isn't amiss, and I'm sick in the pit of my stomach, wondering what the problem could be. "Yes, I'm very fond of him. Now what?"


"Do you love him?"


Should I tell him? I think I'd better. In for a penny: in for a pound. "Yes."


"Phew. Thank Christ for that. Right; now I can tell you everything. Have you got time?"


"I'm due in a meeting, but they can wait. Spit it out, Sam."


"Ok. Jimmy loves you. He's loved you for ages. I don't know how you'll handle this, and it might complicate things for you, but he's gay. Is that the way you love him?"


I might as well go the whole hog now. "Yes."


"Phew again. That makes things ten times easier. You know when that bloke on the telly asked you if you'd got a love in your life, and you said if he'd asked you last week, you would have said `no'? Well, Jimmy thinks it's that bird you took out, and he's sick as a parrot. I'm not going to go into anything else, and Jimmy will have to tell you in his own way and in his own time about it, but he has a past history that will break your heart when he does tell you. You can't even begin to imagine what he's been through. It's taken me and my mum, and his mum years to get him better. I love Jimmy as much as you do, but I don't love him that way, if you know what I mean. Me and him are more than brothers. I dunno why that is; we just are."


"Yes, I know all about his dad murdering that bloke."


"That's the least of it, Rob; trust me. You'll find out one day, and when you do, you won't let Jimmy out of your sight for five minutes. I don't. You'll be jealous when I tell you what we were doing Saturday night... I was in bed hugging him."


"You lucky sod! You didn't... you know... did you?"


Sam laughs. "No. I'm as straight as they come. I was just loving him, because he needed some."


"Jimmy's very lucky to have you, Sam."


"It isn't just one way. Jimmy loves me as well. He'd kill anybody if they touched a hair on my head. He's been my saviour too, a number of times. It isn't just Jimmy what's had shit in his life."


"I'm sure it isn't, Sam. I'm sorry I was so shit with you earlier."


"No probs, Rob. I got off quite light. What are you going to do now?"


"What do you think I should do?"


"Tell Jimmy how you feel about him as soon as you can. He'll be texting you at dinner. You don't have to tell him then, but you can sort of hint at it, if you know what I mean. The very least you can do is tell him that that bird means nothing to you."


"Ok, I'll do that. Thank you, Sam. Is the letter at Jimmy's place?"


"Yes. I rang him this morning and said I was feeling a bit sick, but that I'd probably be better by dinner time. We'll go back to school together after dinner, and I'll know by his mood how you two are getting on."


"Sam, what would you do if I gave you a big hug?"


"I dunno. Perhaps we should try it one day. (Sam giggles.) I've often wondered what it would be like going to bed with a bloke."


"I know why Jimmy loves you now. We should have a ménage à trois."


"What's that?"


"Three in a bed."


"Sod off! Oh, and whatever you do, Jimmy mustn't know anything about all this."


"He won't; I promise. Bye, Sam... and thanks."


"Bye, Rob."


The meeting has already started when I join it. Although I'm listening to all that's going on, most of it is going over my head, and my input is almost robotic.


Clive Borthwick stirs me out of my reverie. "You did a fabulous job on TV, Rob. Graham wants you in Europe soon to promote M******. I'll sort it for September. You ok with that?"


Graham Dunlop is head of publishing. "Yes, you did a great job, Rob. We reckon M****** will fly out, and we want to capitalise on it in Europe. Besides English, we're going in German, French, Italian and Polish straight away with this one, and the translators are already well into it. The press has been great, and overseas have already picked up on it. That's why we need you to make the overseas promotions. We can start in Brussels, go on to Berlin, and then tap the Eastern European market in either Krakow or Warsaw... probably Krakow, because it's a more liberal University city. Italy is a must, too, because that's where the scene is set. They're going to love it."


This is strange. Here I am, listening to these guys discussing a project that will see me financially sound for the rest of my life, and all I can think about is a sixteen-year-old kid with spiked blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes. I try to concentrate, but most of my replies are monosyllabic, or nods of the head. Thankfully, Clive is the only one who notices my disposition, and when we leave the meeting after two hours, he asks me if I'm feeling ok. I get out of further awkward questions by using the `Virus' excuse, and arrange to meet him at his office in the morning. I'm in a black cab on the way to the hotel, when the first text from Jimmy comes in. 


VIRUS: Hi Rob. Jimmy here. How r u. XXX


Me: Ok. Would you prefer to talk than txt? XXX


VIRUS: Dunno. Get shy talking 2 u. XXX


Me: Me 2. Crazy. Missing u. XXX


VIRUS: R u kidding me? XXX


Me: No. U not missing me? XXX


VIRUS. Like mad. XXX


Me: Me 2. U want me 2 cum haha home? XXX


VIRUS: Haha. U kidding me? Cors I want u 2 cum haha home. XXX


Me: Ok. B home about 5. Can u b there? Something I need 2 tell u. XXX


VIRUS: Cant u tell me now? XXX


Me: Not sure u want to hear it. XXX


VIRUS: Try me. XXX


Me: I luv u. Really. I luv u. Sorry. XXX


VIRUS. Im crying. U not kidding me? XXX


Me: No. Wouldnt do that. U not mad at me? XXX


VIRUS: No. I luv u 2. Really. Best day of my life. Want me 2 meet u at station? XXX


Me: No. B at home. Pick keys up off Debs. Ill txt her 2 give them 2 u. Need 2 b alone with u. B with u at 5. XXX


VIRUS: I'll be there. Luv u Rob. C u at 5. Luv u Rob. XXX


Me: Luv u Jimmy. Need u. C u at 5. Luv u. XXX


I ring Clive and tell him that the `virus' is really causing me problems, and that I'm going back home. He's very sympathetic, and tells me he'll sort stuff. He sounds worried. He should be; I'm his main source of income.




Emotions. I write about them, but rarely do I experience them. Well, certainly not the ones surging from my inner being right now. I'm in love, and I'm meeting the young man I love, in less than fifteen minutes. I want him. I need to hold him; to kiss him; to run my fingers through his beautiful blonde hair, and stroke his ears and nose and eyes, and caress him every place I can. I want to tell him how I feel, and I want to hear him tell me that he loves me. This isn't just sex; no, what I want now transcends any other needs - I want Jimmy in my arms.


Akhtar is waiting at the station, and whisks me to Willow Row. It's ten past five when I unlock the front door and go in. Coat on the hook; laptop on the hall table, and I walk into the lounge. Jimmy is standing, waiting for me. Tears are streaming from his beautiful eyes. I open my arms, and when we come together, I hold his face and kiss him softly. The beautiful lips I've dreamed of kissing are now reality; soft and pliable to my own; warm and moist; tender and sweet. At last, the love we share can have its way; no longer a secret love. We go to the sofa and continue our loving. Our passions, now they have escaped, are both gentle and brutal, and if I had any doubts about the strength of Jimmy's love for me, he dispels them with an outpouring of emotions that equal my own. But our love can't stop there; it needs to be outed properly, and I lead him to the bedroom. There's no shyness in either of us now as Jimmy lies on his back on the bed and I squat beside him. Very slowly, I undress him, and as each garment is removed, I stroke and kiss every soft curve as it's revealed to me for the first time. I've had daydreams about what lay beneath his apparel, and I'm not disappointed. Although small in height, his body is firm, and strong, and yet supple and soft and sensual. When he's nude, I turn him over, and repeat my visual and oral and caressing inspection. While I'm doing it, he is compliant and willing, and reacts to some touches and kisses with low, whimpering moans. Finally, I turn him onto his back, tell him that he is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen on this earth, and that I have never, nor could I ever, love anyone so much as long as I live, and we come together in a kiss that that makes my inner senses reel. 


Now it's Jimmy's turn, and I'm as submissive as he was, but Jimmy's examination is more urgent. I sense the lust in him as he makes contact with every part of me, and instead of stroking me gently, his finger nails scrape across my nakedness, and when he kisses the parts he likes most, I feel his teeth nibbling into me. His final act is the most brutal and sensual of all: he takes my manhood in both hands, and engulfs it into his eager mouth. When I feel myself exploding, I try to pull his head away, but he's having none of it, and brings me to an amazing climax, and swallows and licks off every bit of the sperm I ejaculate. Only when he's sure I have nothing left to give to him, does he lie on top of me and crush his mouth against mine, and when we break the kiss, there's fire in his amazing eyes that tell me that I have a job to do.


And so I roll him onto his back and begin the long journey of kisses down to the swollen penis above his open legs. I didn't dwell on his manhood during my previous examination, because, unlike Jimmy, the beauty of his whole being was as exciting to me as this. But now, I can concentrate my whole on his sex, and it gets my undivided attention. Like me, he's uncut, and with a foreskin that rolls easily off and on the swollen head. And I take full advantage of that with my tongue. Jimmy places his hands on the back of my head. I move his hands away. Jimmy is going to get the full treatment, but it will be done Rob's way, and not his. I'm a gentle lover. I glance up, and Jimmy is watching me intently: almost voyeurism; and that excites me, and spurs me onto more adventurous things. Our eyes are locked together now, and when I place a hand under him, he rises to allow access to my searching finger, which, having previously been lubricated with saliva, when it discovers his love hole, slips easily into him, and I watch his jaw tremble as I begin to milk his prostate. It can't last; this slow love making, and within a few seconds of me taking him fully into my mouth, he throws his arms back, bangs his head on the pillow, and with a series of hip thrusts, accompanied by lustful yells, sends his love juices into the back of my throat. Like Jimmy, I allow none to escape. And when I'm done and lying by his side, and he regains his breath, he smiles at me, and kisses me gently. The intense lust is gone, and we can now begin to enjoy the more sensual and loving side of our relationship.


And we do: for three whole hours. It's not all sex. Some of the time, we talk about how we fantasized about our first time together. And then we discuss AIDS, and Jimmy is delighted when I tell him that was the first time ever without protection. He likes that, and tells me there's no chance of me getting it from him, because he doesn't, unlike some kids at his school, get off by visiting the local toilets. The more I listen to him, the more I'm impressed by his mature, streetwise knowledge of homosexuality. This sixteen-year-old knows exactly what he is, and what he wants, and when he makes me swear that I will never have another male partner while he's with me, and he swears that he won't, I know that he takes the issue of sexual diseases very seriously. It's amazing that within the few short hours of me returning, we've become familiar enough to talk like a couple who have been together for much longer. At ten, I ask Jimmy what time he has to be home.


"I'm not going home. I'm staying with you tonight. If you want me to, that is?"


"Oh yes, I want you to, but don't you need to tell your Mum?"


"I've already told her, and I'm not going to school tomorrow. Sam's doing my papers."


"Ok. That's fine with me. Are you hungry? (He nods.) Let's shower, and then we'll have something to eat."


We shower together, and even this is an extension of our love. It's becoming easy now, and we laugh and joke as we wash and then dry each other. I even try to brush Jimmy's hair, but make a mess of it. More laughing as he shows me how to do it. Rarely do our eyes part; and our lips caress frequently. I put on a dressing gown, and fit another one on Jimmy. It doesn't fit, and we spend more time laughing at our efforts to make it usable. We go into the kitchen. I make us coffee, and we sit opposite each other at the glass dining table, unable to take our eyes off each other, and always one hand across the table holding the hand of the one we love. I order a pizza, and tell Jimmy he's the one who will pay for it when it arrives.


"I can't do that! He'll laugh at me when he sees me like this."


"Do we care? This love is fun. It's what we are: love and fun. I want us to laugh and love our way through our life together, Jimmy Turner. Are you up for it?"


"Yes, and I don't care about anything now I've got you."


"Me neither. So you're paying when he comes."


"Ok. I'll flash a leg at him. Perhaps he'll let me off without paying then."


"He'll think it's his birthday."


We're both laughing now, and Jimmy can't keep a straight face when the pizza arrives and he has to go to the door in his oversized dressing gown. We can't stop giggling throughout the meal, mostly because the tensions of hiding the deep love we have for one another are now over, and when we go back to bed, we make love again, and, afterwards, spend each second of our togetherness making sure our partner is fully aware that this is reality. And finally, at the end of the most perfect of endings, we fall asleep tight in each other's arms.


I sleep the sleep of the blessed. No dreams, or at least, none that I remember. One thing bothers me, though; Jimmy's mum. Although she knows about us, I have other plans for my VIRUS, and she could scupper them.


To be continued...



Other stories on Nifty by J.T.S.Teller: Boys can be lovers, too.