UNCLE JULES -- 13
Uncle Jules didn't get home until around 2 in the morning. I had left a light on in the lounge and was asleep in his bed. I really was asleep, since it had been a pretty vigorous day for me and I was all spunked out. But just before I turned off the lamp in the bedroom (leaving the door ajar so that the room was faintly illuminated from the lounge) I heaved a happy sigh of anticipation, thinking of Jules' return. Even though he was a rotten rat!
Although I was deeply asleep, some part of my brain must have been patiently waiting. I heard the click of his key in the lock. There was a sudden waft of air and I smelt his sexy aftershave. I didn't know whether to pout or purr, so I just lay still.
I heard him fumbling in the lounge for a short while and then the light went out. The bedroom door clicked softly as he shut it. The scent of aftershave was now pretty strong -- Jules is not too subtle in that area! Also the smell of booze and another smell which I identified as Tart, as in Scrubber! Big lips, big tits. Why did he waste himself with those women?
Rustling and unzipping. There was only the light from the window and my eyes had not yet adjusted to the dark. My senses were razor sharp, waiting. He gently pulled down the sheet and got into bed. He obviously imagined I was asleep. He must have been slightly pissed but even so he lay his body alongside mine with infinite care and gentleness and his arm across my chest. His face was close to mine and he pressed his lips to my cheek.
Booze. Aftershave. Tart. Mmmmmmm. (Except for the Tart.) Pretending to be half awake, groggy, I turned towards him and he came into my arms.
I wasn't going to play the spoiled brat or the offended party or do a dress-rehearsal for his future and inevitable wife. "Uncle..." I sighed in the softest and sleepiest voice I could manage.
I opened my eyes slowly and found his face bent over me just outlined in the darkness. His face came down and he buried his head in my shoulder. He was in need of a shave but the roughness of his cheeks felt great.
"Sorry I had to leave earlier darling." He did sound genuinely sorry and Jules had no pretence.
"'SOK unkie, I managed to amuse myself," I whispered, thinking of Lee and Brandon." I wouldn't kiss and tell so long as he kept quiet about his intentions and his bird, whom he must have shagged in the meantime. I thought we were just about equal.
Now obviously awake, I hugged and kissed him.
"Was Brandon all right?" he asked. That did seem fairly equivocal and again I wondered...
"He was fine," I said, speaking nothing but the truth. "He says he will catch you later."
There we were, all sorted with just a few amiable words. If only women would learn to deal with their men likewise, the world would be a happier place. But no, they had to nag.
Already we were both half hard but I guess we had also both had enough shagging for one day. We made ourselves comfortable in each others arms, our faces together, breathing together. We fell asleep happy as the proverbial sandboys, whoever they were.
Morning light. Half-drowsy still. Musky smell of sleeping male. Warmth and skin to skin togetherness, cuddled close, almost overwhelmed by Jules' weight, but loving every sensation trickling through.
Moving, strirring, changing position, half asleep and sexy, slipping my thigh over Jules' thigh as he now lies on his back on the mattress, sprawled, completely open.
His mouth half open and his eyes closed. Black hair over his forehead. I nibble at his ear, feeling the rough stubble on his chin. The lingering scent of his aftershave fills my nostrils like a drug, a most potent aphrodisiac. My hand is on his chest and rises and falls with his breath. My cock is pressed against his flank and senses the sweet curve of his delicious arse muscle.
Now my hand is on his love spear, which is hard. I think he is half awake, or fully awake and delighting in these sensations and pretending to sleep. Suits me. I love him like this, unmoving, compliant. My sleeping uncle and my obedient slave. The sense of power which I had with Brandon yesterday comes back here in a renewed surge.
For a long while I lie still, thinking about this fantastic weekend. Sensing my abstraction, Jules' face is turned towards me, as if in sleep, my sleeping beauty. One kiss to awaken. Our half open mouths, carelessly hanging loose, close slowly upon each other. His strong arms are around me and he pulls me on top of him. I lay stretched upon his magnificent body, face down upon the altar of love.
"Jules, I love you so much, I never want this to end."
His eyelids flutter against my cheek. "Why should it end darling?"
"Your women..." I say with a certain amount of bitterness.
"They will never interfere with you and me."
"Other guys -- you might find another boy to fuck you."
He laughed. "Another boy? There will never be another, Chas, I promise you." I wonder how he can ever keep this promise with people like Lee and Brandon and Aris about.
I push my cock against his, I stretch myself upon him as if to keep him here for ever. "How do you know, Jules? What if you get married?"
"Get married? Not for a long time yet sweets. And when I do I will still have to see my beloved nephie. You are a part of me now, there's no changing that."
"But why did you leave me yesterday Jules?"
"Had to Chas. The lady was in a panic. Is this what this questioning is all about?"
"What about Brandon?" I asked, feeding my own suspicions.
Jules looked me right in the face. "What about Brandon?"
I stared down at him, resting on my elbows. I rubbed my cock against his again just for the feel of it, the closeness. "What about him?" I asked, suspecting the worst. Then, "He's an attractive guy."
"Is he? I wouldn't know. I only fancy you. So why are you telling me he's attractive? You mean that you are attracted to him?"
There wasn't the slightest trace of jealousy in his voice or in his glance. I didn't know whether to be mad or glad.
And then suddenly I thought it best to drop the whole thing. "Not as much as I am to you," I said, smothering his mouth with kisses. He need never know and I need not make any difficulty.
"I hope you were kind to him?" asked Jules with a twinkle. "His contract means a lot to my career."
"Of course," I sighed, remembering that unusual shag.
He hardly heeds my weight upon him. It's a very big bed and he stretches himself full length and puts his muscular arms over his head and flexes his legs -- everywhere he goes he flexes his legs. Now my bed is him, lying full length upon that couch of flesh. My beloved unkie. His beloved nephie. Together forever, it seems. Till death us do part.
Brandon came in at around mid-morning, looking very spruce and determined. There was no hint of any collusion between himself and Jules -- nor, I hope, between himself and me. I wondered if any of us knew what the other two were thinking.
"Would you mind, Chas, if Brandon and I had a private talk?"
No, I didn't mind and I went out to hang around on the offchance of meeting up with Lee again. I didn't see Lee but I met the chap from the front desk who asked me whether I had been up to the Plaza, or whatever they called it. I wondered if he had inside information (from Lee -- who else?).
I said yes it had been great and thanked him for his help. He looked me up and down in an enquiring manner. Seeing this, I did the same with him. Very nice suit and tie -- there's something I like about suit and tie guys. Older than me, but tasty. Older than Jules even, but I'm not ageist!
They talk about gaydar -- that's to say gay radar, the ability of one gay bloke to recognise it in another. I think it's shit actually, but with this guy there was a definite frisson. And besides his eyes gave away a lot. For instance, he kept looking at my crotch and his eyes were smouldering.
I said, mad creature that I can be at times, "This is a very gay hotel."
He looked at me in astonishment. Then he collected himself and said, "We try."
There was a bit of a silence. We were standing by the lifts and there was nobody around. "When you say it's gay..." he began.
"I am not talking happy-happy," I said, starting to feel ashamed of myself.
He smiled. "You seem to be a very observant young chap."
I stared determinedly at his crotch. I was again beginning to feel that surge of power which had so surprised me yesterday. I was beginning to think that I could have anyone I wanted if I tried hard enough.
"I keep my eyes open," I said, scratching myself through my jeans and feeling the beginnings of a very respectable hardon.
There, on that landing, everything began to seem interconnected with pulses of feeling whizzing along the wires from person to person, situation to situation. And the whole thing was lit up like a display.
He was watching me carefully. Perhaps he thought I was an agent provocateur, there just to bring about his downfall.
A lift came. He was going up and I down, apparently. "Well," he said somewhat wistfully, "I must be about my duties. Glad to have met you again. I hope you enjoy your stay."
He was still looking at me as the lift doors closed. Damn! Something had happened to put him off and I wondered if I had been just a little too obvious, or not obvious enough.
I began to like this place more and more. It was a palace of intrigue and excitement. I wondered if I could get a part-time job here during the holidays. That would be fantastic with so many opportunities for naughtiness.
Meanwhile I couldn't help wondering what Jules and Brandon were up to. I must admit that it was a bit of a turnon to think of the two of them alone together in that room where I had recently shagged them both.
After a long slow brekkers I went back up to the suite. Brandon must have been waiting for me, because as soon as I came along the corridor, he motioned me to come into his room. He had one long elegant finger against his wide lips -- you guessed it, wide sensuous lips are a very big turnon for me. Mostly for kissing, you understand (although being sucked by wide lips is so very pleasant!). I love to munch on the lower, then the upper, feeding there.
"I wanted to say goodbye. I'm off shortly. And to give you something."
He seemed quite moved and was obviously quite different from the Brandon who had first come into Uncle Jules' suite yesterday. He had softened. He looked much younger. He smelled of some delicious soap. He hardly seemed the same person. But then he wasn't the same and neither was I. I noticed too that his chin was dimpled -- why hadn't I seen that yesterday?
He reached in his pocket and took out a small leather case and opened it. Inside was a most beautiful brooch, the figure of a leopard with litle gems for spots. This he pinned to my tee shirt, just under my collar bone. Then he stood back to admire the effect.
I really had no idea what to say. I took his hand and kissed his long sensitive fingers, like a courtier. He smiled and said, "You have made the trip for me. I won't forget you."
"You're going home?"
"Yes, with a somewhat heavy heart." He was laughing now, giggling like a girl with his hand in front of his face.
I grabbed his packet and he half bent with his hands over his privates to stop me.
"I fancied your uncle Jules," he said. "That was why I came on this trip. I have met him several times before. I thought he wasn't gay and that he didn't fancy me anyway, but I had high hopes. I imagined I could bribe him."
He looked away toward the window, now serious and almost as severe as when I first met him. "Jules is a most generous nature. He told me no, he couldn't have sex with me. He said he wasn't gay but bi and that he had a male lover already to whom he would always be faithful."
I jumped when he said this, not realising that he was talking about me.
"A male lover?" I couldn't believe it.
Brandon realised at once what I was thinking. He put his arm on my shoulder and said "You, you stupid!"
Then he said, "When I saw you, I couldn't believe that that gorgeous man could fancy a schoolboy. I was a bit miffed. But that is Jules' nature, no accounting for taste."
I could tell we were on the brink of revelation. I wasn't sure that I wished to hear any more. "A schoolboy?"
"That's what you are. And he's mad about you. I've never seen a case to match it."
He was back to his old dry, sarcastic self. Having just been so generous with his gift (I didn't discover how generous until later and was amazed to discover it was worth a couple of thousand quid) I did not feel able to attack him. "So now you're a psychiatrist too?" I gave the question a bit of an edge.
He put his hand on the nape of my neck and it felt good and he rubbed my hair with the flat of his hand, just as you would with a child.
"Im just saying you're a very lucky bastard, that's all. Jules is a one off."
I kissed his hand again. "Yes, Brandon, I know that."
He seemed pleased and kissed me and said, "But then I realised yesterday how lucky he was too. What heaven it would be be to make love to both of you together, me, you and Uncle Jules. If ever he changes his mind about being a one man man, let me know and I'll be right over."
That afternoon Jules and I were sitting in St James's Park watching the Sunday strollers and joggers and couples with children. The paths were covered with goose shit but everyone seemed happy. Jules certainly was. I was wearing my leopard brooch as though it were a trophy. Jules had noticed it (who could miss it?) and I told him that Brandon had given it to me.
"Most generous of him. It looks real. And it certainly suits you. He must've been grateful for something."
Jules was smiling as he said this. So in the park I sat round to face him and asked "So are you going to tell me the whole story or not? Did you set me up with Brandon? He told me that he wanted you."
Jules frowned, as at some serious breach of etiquette. "He told you that?" He ran his hand through his hair. Except in the heat of sex, Jules always looked well brushed and combed. He had it down to a fine art. He looked at me in a very serious way, which was alarming because Jules treated life as a joke.
Another question -- but no answers yet! "Did I set you up? You mean, Chas, did I use you as bait to get this deal signed with Brandon's corporation? Well darling it was a very important project and if I hadn't bagged it I might have been looking for another job. Not that I couldn't easily have found one, but that's bye the bye. As it is, I have done the deed, it's in the bag, and your poor old unkie is in a good way for making very much dosh."
A really great looking jogger was pounding up the path where we sat, typical steroid-fed gym-rat with a face and arse and thighs and chest to die for. Made you get wet just watching. I observed Jules carefully and he never even saw the heavenly vision and as it flashed past us he was oblivious to that peak of male perfection. It seemed so very strange.
"Did I set you up?" He seemed to be pondering the question all by himself. "I never thought of it in those terms, sweets. In fact I don't think I thought of it at all. I rather took it for granted that you knew how to look after yourself and that no one could make you do something you disliked. Perhaps I was wrong?"
The last question could also have been internal. But I replied, "I've never thought about it unk. It doesn't seem to have arisen before."
He stared at me and his new thoughtful look was entrancing. "So does this mean darling" -- he stroked my shoulder now and it made me quiver -- "that something happened? Between you and my client, I mean?"
"You know it did," I accused him.
"Not know, Chas. But I have my fair share of intuition and you were covered with the Brandon aroma when I came to bed last night."
"Yes, haven't you noticed?"
"What, you mean he smells?"
He laughed shortly. "Nah, nephie, he don't smell in that sense. But he has his own atmosphere, if I can put it so weakly. And it was on you."
"Musk," I mused.
"Love-musk," Jules suggested, staring at my jewelled leopard.
"I'm sorry Jules. You were away and Brandon came to the room and I saw him differently. And then..."
He stopped me. "You don't have to apologise to me Chas. I am not my nephie's keeper, only his lover."
His calling me his lover brought a sudden rush of water to my eyes and I had to look away. "So you don't mind?" I asked when I was composed enough to look at him again.
He said, "How can I mind? What do I give you that I should be able to mind? Do you mind if I have my girlfriends? Do you?" he asked again sensing that I wouldn't reply.
"No," I half-lied, and he saw through my cover.
"If Brandon was pleasing to you -- and I know you wouldn't have entertained him otherwise -- then all is well. And now you and me, unkie and nephie, are back together again. What's to worry about?"
Jules spoke to me as an absolute equal, making no concessions to the difference in our age. I was indeed very flattered by this and it was this about him which had always made me so grateful. I was going to tell him about Lee also, but I saw now that there was no need.
The late afternoon saw us on the river, gliding toward Greenwich. Jules and I sat side by side on deck, he flexing his leg against me as ever. And later, lounging on the grass below the Observatory, I asked him the most stupid question.
"So you and me are an item, Jules?"
It was crudely put and he smiled. Then he looked at me -- glitter, glitter went his eyes, just like the jewels at my throat; but better, living, loving -- he looked at me and nodded twice, three times, four.
It was really our exchange of vows.
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If you enjoyed this you might also like my `Cinema Sex' and `Used' in the Nifty archive `gay/encounters' and my complete story `The Ring' under scifi/fantasy.
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