Date: Sun, 10 Dec 2000 18:36:09 -0000 From: Jamie Subject: Chris-and-Jamie Chapter 14 Same stuff - don't read this is u r underage or u don't like reading stories of love between two boys. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ To James - get better soon. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ `Get up sleepy head, it's Christmas morning!' The ear-piercing sound penetrated my comatose state and I began to return to reality. `I'm up.' I mumbled, and pulled the pillow over my head. Chris jumped up and down on the bed and struck at my head with another pillow. Kneeling beside me, he picked me up in his arms and planted a large kiss on my lips. I awoke instantly. `Okay, you win.' I said. `Is it Christmas already?' He nodded the affirmative and laid me back on the bed. I pulled my hand through his hair a couple of times and felt the lust rise within me. I wanted him in my mouth now. Sliding down his bare chest, I came to his expanding boxers. They were tenting out at the front. I pulled them down to reveal their prize. 6-1/2" of pure uncut meat stared back at me. I pounced at once. Swallowing it in one gulp, I began to gently pull back and forth on the warm tool. Chris's groans were beginning to become louder and louder -- I hoped to high heaven that the intercom wasn't permanently switched on, otherwise Chris would be broadcasting all over the Chase. Encouraged by his pleasure I began to bob up and down faster. I increased the pace even more as his hips began to buck back and forth. As he fucked me in the mouth I too began to lose control. My own member had been rubbing hard against the bed sheets and I was ready to unload into them. With one final push from Chris, both of us were sent crashing over the edge. Every orgasm with him seemed to be perfect. I couldn't recall a time when I had been even slightly disappointed with my boyfriend, and I hoped he had never been disappointed in me. With a quick peck on the lips he shot into the bathroom. I heard the taps creak as they were turned on and the water spewed forth from the shiny head. I saw, through the open door, Chris stepping into the shower and a shadow behind the curtain beginning to lather itself up. `You coming or not?' He asked, poking his head around the corner of the curtain. I couldn't resist it. Jumping out of bed I rushed towards the bathroom and entered the shower. After searching around for a while, I finally found, tucked away in a corner, a shower-radio. It worked perfectly, and after a bit of fine-tuning Don McLean's "Vincent" blared out as us. The music rose gracefully over the sound of the water and floated like clouds to our ears. As the record came to the point of Vincent's suicide I saw that Chris had a tear in his eye. I had known, without the need for him to tell me, from the point that he first told me about his Dad not accepting his homosexuality that he was contemplating suicide. "Now I understand, what u tried to say to me, And how you suffered for your sanity, And how you tried to set them free. They would not listen they did not know how; Perhaps they'll listen now!" All I could do was to hope that he was over it now. When he saw me staring at him, his reaction was to take me in his arms and hold me tightly. I could feel the breath being squeezed out of me, but I wasn't going to complain; this was his moment and I was just glad that I had him. He reached down and began to slowly stroke my recovered hard on. We were just getting into it once more when a sudden jolt stopped us both. The water had run freezing cold. Neither of us had noticed that it had been losing heat, and now the hot water had run completely dry. A sharp scream came from the floor below. Obviously, Elaine had also been taking a shower. I began to laugh at this and dried myself off. When we finally arrived downstairs, we decided to go into the room we were first shown to yesterday. Upon entering the small room, just off the hall, we saw that it was brightly lit with a huge Christmas tree standing in one corner. My parents were sat on one sofa, opposite Chris's who took up the other. As per usual, Chris and I took our seats by the fire, which was roaring in the large iron grate. The flames licked up the chimney, bursting into colours of amber and gold. `Happy Christmas.' We all began at once. Laughing at the error we sat around talking about various subjects for an hour. After that hour, Mom disappeared to check on the Lunch and Chris snuggled up to me, laying his head on my chest. I pulled him close and saw his Dad in my peripheral vision. The good news was that he didn't seem too bothered; the bad news was that I could smell burnt turkey. Rapidly excusing myself from the room, I ran to the kitchen to find Mom and Henry trying to wrestle a very black turkey from the oven. `I don't think we'll be having turkey today.' She stated the obvious. `Give me an hour and I'll get some of that chicken from the refrigerator and we'll have that. Just don't tell anyone.' I loved it when she smiled. Since she had become ill I hadn't seen her smile; it had evidently now departed. Chris tapped me on the shoulder and began to say something. He stopped when he saw the black mess resting on the work surface. He didn't need to ask what was going on. `Turkey's off then?' He grinned. ----------------------------------------------------------------- After being given instructions to disappear from the kitchen, Chris and I decided to go and investigate the rest of the house. Starting at the front door we looked around ourselves. One corridor led to the dining room and one door led to the lounge. That left three doors and one corridor. Inspecting the rooms led to nothing spectacular. There was a broom-cupboard, a cloakroom and another store cupboard. This left the corridor. The walls were not painted, but left in their original condition -- a white plaster interlaced with brown beams of oak. This mock-Tudor style was the same as the rest of the house. The corridor itself seemed to never end. There were no doors or windows on either side and it wound around to the left. Eventually we came out in another hallway. This one had no rooms at all, but an exact replica corridor leading continuing in the direction we were heading and a flight of stairs which spiralled up into the ceiling. `So this is the North Wing then.' Chris concluded. `How the hell do you know that?' I asked. He pointed to a small guidebook, lying flat on the table. My Grandfather used to allow visitors to the chase, however I myself never took the opportunity. The book was small, maybe the size of a small legal pad, and the back (as it was turned face-down) showed a detailed map as to the house's layout. Chris picked it up and examined it. `Over there...' He pointed to the left. `...Is the East Wing, which contains the library and the Gallery - whatever that is. And the other one...' He pointed back the way we had come. `...Is the West Wing, where we have just come from.' It was all too confusing for me. `Where do the stairs lead?' I asked. After a close scrutiny of the map he answered that they led to my parent's bedroom and the first floor offices, which ran the whole length of the house. It seemed as though everywhere led to everywhere else. `So I can get to our bedroom from here then, by going up the stairs?' Chris nodded the affirmative and we climbed the oak staircase to the floor above. At the top we met Dad and Paul. Each of them had a cup of coffee in their hand. They explained that they were on pain of death, by Eileen and my Mother, not to go anywhere near the kitchen until the lunch was ready. However, the lunch was going to become more like dinner at the rate it was taking. I glanced at my watch -- "3:00pm" stared back at me. I must have overslept by miles this morning -- it was the afternoon already. After a request from Paul, we took both parents up to our room. Paul reacted in the same way that Chris and I did when first we saw it. His jaw almost hit the floor when he saw the music studio. `Yeah, we had that reaction too.' Chris assured him. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The table was not too crowded for dinner -- the two of us, mine and his parents, then Henry and Elaine. The eight of us made for quite a cosy gathering. The chicken was brought in and laid down on the table. It seemed just the same as last night. My Mom is such a good cook that it had been brought right back to its full, original glory in a matter of hours. After the preliminary tasting, the serious discussion began. `Okay, we need to discuss some living arrangements.' My Dad began from one end of the table. `Paul, Eileen, Diane (Mom) and I have been talking this over and we have come to a conclusion that we think is agreeable to us all. There is no way on Earth the three of us can fill this massive house and keep it warm and homely. Therefore we have come to the agreement that Paul, Eileen and Chris will be selling their house in St. Matthew's and coming to stay with us here. There is plenty of room for five families here, let alone 2, so we should all be comfortable.' Chris and I both jumped for joy. `However...' My Dad put a stern close on his voice. `If either of you two start preferring to mess around with the library, music studio, stables or yourselves in preference to your homework, then Chris moves out again. Clear?' We solemnly nodded our agreement, and then switched back into happy-mode again. Leaving the table, we grasped each other's arms and began to jump up and down with delight as to the way things were working out. After a quick hug delivered to both parents we discussed arrangements for moving their stuff over here. Chris's house would be put up on the market in two days and a removal van had already been booked to convey their belongings to the Chase. We began with the hysterics again and were given a stern look from Elaine. Unfortunately, I burst out in laughter as I caught her eye and was asked what was wrong by my Father, who was not best pleased with the explanation I gave to him. `You two go and get the room ready so that Chris's things can be moved in as soon as they get here.' Before he had even finished the sentence we were up on the third floor. The thing that really confused me was why? Why had they agreed to move in with us when Paul still had a problem with Chris and I (no matter how much he tried to hide it)? I couldn't see the logic in making this decision -- one of the biggest in the lives of both families. But, who was I to argue with this resolution; a resolution that threw Chris and I together? Whilst I was turning all of these things over in my mind, Chris snuck up behind me and pounced. Taken by surprise, I was thrown onto the bed. He turned me over, onto my back, and straddled my mid-section. Leaving in for the inevitable kiss, something had caught his eye. I followed his gaze and saw that it rested on the music studio. I couldn't understand what he was thinking. `Jamie...' He looked down at me again. `...what time is it?' `six.' `Oh right, just wondering, cuz we've got a concert in two hours!' `SHIT!' I could now clearly remember the concert that we had been practising for three days previously. As I bolted to an upright position, Chris was catapulted off me and landed with a thud on the carpeted floor. Getting up, he dusted himself down and then followed my disappearing form down the stairs to the dining room. We burst in on the four parents, who were still drinking coffee and chatting. They didn't seem amused at the prospect of having to drive us all the way to the Cathedral at five minutes notice -- plus we had to stop at Chris's house on the way to pick up his flute. After a quick discussion as to whose turn it was to be at our beck and call, all four of them decided to tag along and catch the concert. I think it may have been something to do with the whole Christmas thing, but they all seemed in the mood to sit in a freezing cold church singing carols with us. The car pulled up outside the east entrance to the choir stalls and Chris and I jumped out. Our parents drove around to the far car park and then entered the building through the main door. The cathedral looked as unwelcoming as it ever did, with an even more threatening look in the pitch black of the winter's night. A single floodlight from the high tower, shone down, piercing the darkness and into my very soul. I shook of the intense feeling that was emanating from the building and entered by the side door. A quick walk across the squeaking titles took both of us to the choir practise stalls, behind the nave and the great 17th century organ. Our choirmaster was not happy and told Chris to get his position ready in front of the main stalls, down from the High Altar, and me to get up to the organ loft. `We start in ten minutes!' I heard him call after Chris. As I found my seat in the Organ loft, I rearranged one of the four main mirrors to display a clear image of Chris. `Just for inspiration.' I murmured quietly to myself. I could see that he was in the process of connecting up his flute. As the thin tubes of metal slid into one-another's casing I felt a sharp pang in my groin. I snapped out of my sexual reverie and placed the music on the top stand of the organ. After priming the great machine, with a gust of air, I was ready. The choir keyboard lay just out of reach of me, so I had to raise the stool slightly to get my fingers to grip the higher keys of the treble clef. Stretching my feet out before me, I made sure that they easily found the pedals and were ready to play. --------------------------------------- mail me - virus@dial.pipex.com