Date: Mon, 25 Jun 2001 19:37:53 +0100
From: Charles Bryant <Emenos@btinternet.com>
Subject: uncle-jules-9

UNCLE JULES

NINE

These leotards were incredibly sexy, it was like having a hand constantly
glued to your cock and balls which were lifted up and out. And the straps
where they rubbed against the nipples were like stroking fingers.

Aris looked absolutely ace in his stars and stripes singlet, especially
since he was still half hard and his packet had such a look of perfection
about it, everything just the right size and shape. It was as if he was a
young male virgin (which he wasn't!) and I was an older lover. It was down
to me now. I felt a bit nervous about this.

We had gone into the big hall and Aris was squatting on the mat showing me
a few movements. His thighs were big and sturdy and manly and I wanted to
kiss and lick them all over. The manliness of his body was contrasted with
the questioning and slightly apprehensive look in his eyes which were by
now truly smouldering at me.

"If you keep looking at me like that, I won't be able to concentrate on
what you are saying and showing me."

"Like what, Chas?"

He was unconscious of his own beauty and this made me feel like some awful
old lecher lusting after a young lad. He put his hand up to his face,
considering me - just a gesture, but by now everything he did was full of
suggestion, of enquiry, of enticement. He could have shat on the canvas and
I would have found that lovely too!

We tried some holds, and then some more. The words used to describe them
were more puzzling than the things themselves. I just went along with the
flow.

We carried on like this for half an hour or more and Aris was starting to
lose himself in his tutorial role. On the mat, he was the master and I the
novice. He was a very good teacher, patient in the extreme and he loved to
be sharing his experience and enthusiasm with me. All this made him
veritably glow.

But there came a point - he was bending over and I was holding him from
behind - when all sense of control began to slip, as if we were in the
water playing and a big unseen wave drew in to shore and then out again and
took the ground from under our feet.

The feel of his firm muscled and meaty buns against my thighs was too
exciting. We stopped moving and knew that the time was almost upon us. He
wanted it and so did I.

Calculating bastard that I was, I had left my bag containing all the
implements of the trade just at the edge of the mat. I began to pull the
singlet off over his shoulders and the white flesh was wonderful to my
teeth. We were a bit smelly from all the exertion but this seemed to add
something to our lust. He looked round at me and smiled and then began to
peel off my singlet too. I was already jacking my cock between those prize
hairy thighs.

He looked at me and then he looked at my duffle bag. I dragged him over to
the side of the mat and took out the cream and the condom. He went down on
his knees and began to worship my cock like some ancient Egyptian before
the phallus of the creator-deity. He kept looking up at me, waiting for
some signal.

I bent over and fished out the tube and this I handed to him saying, "Put
it on for me."  The words themselves sounded like ritual speech.

He took the tube in his hand and squeezed the jelly out upon his open
palm. Then he began to push at my upright cock with his closed fist,
wanking me slowly with the lubricant, pushing back my foreskin with a
sensuous motion of adoration, stroking the sensitive cockhead until it was
covered with the anointing substance.

"Now take the condom and put that on."

He did as he was told and then, at my command, lay facedown on the mat. I
spread the gel gently between his buns and deep into his crack, stroking as
he had stroked and lubricated my cock and at each stroke he sighed and
lifted his arse into and against my hand. I think I could have brought him
off by this means alone.

Holding the firmer neck-circle of the condom ring with my thumb and index
finger, I leant forward and began to enter him, slowly in and out again,
just the head and nothing more. He had had something there before and had
enjoyed it, however briefly, and he was eager for the whole thing. He
grunted a bit and sighed a bit and lay still, savouring the sensations.

I leant forward and began to massage his back and waist with my hand as I
entered him deeper. The sexy bastard got his arms behind him and was
squeezing my buns with his big eager hands, pulling me deeper in.

The silence was incredible and like a great weight over and around us. Even
the birds in the roof seemed to be silent. But it may have been just the
blood surging in my ears - not pounding, as people say, but surging like a
full river, that water I mentioned just now which came and swept us off our
feet. We were being carried along beyond our own volition.

For me, this act of sex was something altogether new, deeper,
sacramental. I had totally lost all sense of my own boundaries, even the
movements of our bodies seemed as if they were happening to someone else,
somewhere else. This was unexpected and I may say a little
frightening. Again that watching presence was one with us, apart no longer.

We were calling each others names as if attempting to conjure up the
spirits from their deeps, the underlying elementals. And the magic
invocations were truly answered.  Here was something else, something new,
something for which I had no name. It was me and Aris together and the
Other.

It grew stronger and more fluid and Aris was gasping with pleasure, as was
I. And when I came it was as if the magic spell suddenly broke and the
forgotten senses came pouring back, fully aware, the sounds of the birds,
the sense of the living day, the light in the hall, the smells.

I fell forward over my friend's prostrate body like a limp rag, jacking
until everything had come away. His eyes were closed and he was not
moving. For one horrible moment I thought that he was dead and leaned
forward to look more closely into his face. He opened one eye and winked at
me and smiled.

"All right mate?" I asked.

He nodded and said "All right."

Of course now he was really rearing to go and his hardon was painful just
to look at.  He wanted to shag me now in turn. He put his arms around my
shoulders and said "I just want to show you how much I love you. I just
want to have you, all of you."

I looked down at the canvas and he pulled my face up until I was looking in
his eyes.

"I don't know Aris. It's not really my scene. I only shag. I'm not usually
the shagee."

Bless him, he laughed, even at this important moment. Then he stopped
laughing and started kissing me, kissing me really hard and with great
passion. My brain went into overdrive. I loved him, but did I want to be
shagged by him? But how could I refuse, having just enjoyed his body so
much?

He said, "It's OK, Chas, if you don't want to."

His humility, more than anything, did the trick. Had he demanded, as a
right, I would never have given him what he wanted. But his modesty
overcame me and made me really want to give him this.

I said, "I do want to," and kissed him some more and then I lay facedown on
the canvas, thinking he would want it the same way that I liked it.

"No," he said, "not like that." And he turned me over so that I was facing
him.

He was looking down at me and I felt like the sacrificial lamb. From what I
have so far described of my life you might consider that I was enormously
precocious, but really my experience was very limited. I must admit I felt
a bit panicky. Aris had a big meaty cock and my arse was tight and so far
unused. I suppose I was an arse-virgin!

My cock was still a bit cummy and I felt somehow embarrassed by this fact,
leaking all over the place. He saw me rubbing at it and pushed my hand away
and began to lick and suck at my cock and belly in such a concentrated
manner that I began to get hard again right away. Then he was licking my
nips which already felt as if twins had been feeding at them for an hour or
more, so sensitised were they. Then kissing my eyes and forehead and nose
and cheeks, and all the time pushing against my bum-rose with his fucking
hard cock. The cheeks of my arse were supported against his big muscular
thighs and the sight of his great-looking mouth coming down on my own was
so sensuous I felt like screaming, like a big girly!

He was just meat, all-over meat, pure spicy-wet jock, everything about him
was melting and dripping and as his cock head began to enter me I really
liked the feeling and really wanted him inside me. It was fucking painful,
yes, but the pain was not so unpleasant in this fluid moment. Then I
thought condoms! and gel! Oh fuck the condom, but lubricant was desperately
needed so I wriggled a bit away from him and he came out and kneeled there
looking at me with pleading all over his face. I splurged the cream all
over his cock and my arse and then, glad to see him smiling again, lay back
and started to think of the Empire, just like all my more recent female
ancestresses.

That felt better, tons better, and I sighed with relief and pleasure as he
slid in again and began to open my arse, me the sacrificial virgin, he the
big sweaty Viking from over the water, big and blond and male and musky.

And then a weird thought went through my head and I began to think of Uncle
Jules and how I could have given him this pleasure and myself taken this
pleasure from him. And I knew that I wanted to do this with him when I
could. And then Aris was pushing harder and I began thinking about him,
lovely sexy wet him, with his big cock between my open legs and his wet
mouth again coming down on me as he leaned forward and went deeper (oh the
stretching! could I bear much more?) and deeper in.

Was this my real 'feminine' self? Was this the complementing other half of
my psyche? Or was it just the delight of a good shag, just the enjoyment of
pleasurable sex? Well, psychiatry and psychology are mostly crap in my
view, nothing to do with science. No, for me it was Aris, Aris as was and
ever will be world without end. My dear friend Aris who grew dearer and
nearer by the moment. Aris' muscular and meaty flesh, skin and bone, Aris'
sweet deep eyes and open mouth. Aris. This was all I knew and all I needed
to know.

My legs were as wide as they could be, wrapped around my lover. His cock
was as deep as it could possibly go. I was full filled all right, filled
full of manmeat and manmuscle, and my mouth was full of his tongue and his
panting breath. As an hart panteth for the cool places so did I pant for
Aris' end and cum, my hands squeezing his back and squeezing his arse buns,
dying for the consummation. And deeper and deeper the pain-pleasure and
more exquisite the reaching for the glittering diamond- studded goal that
called us forward. And as we passed through those adamantine shining
portals there came a sudden ray, and then an overwhelming flood of blinding
light. And the veil was lifted. And we saw and we were seen.

And Aris came and it was wonderful and I loved him loved him loved him as I
had never loved before.

Just two lads, you see, that's the weird thing.


*

To those of the Nifty readers who have enjoyed the previous parts of Uncle
Jules I would like to say a heartfelt thank you for their support and must
apologise for the long time it has taken me to get back to these really
rather naughty boys.

As always, your comments are welcome at emenos@btinternet.com