Date: Mon, 28 Sep 1998 12:02:30 PDT From: Jaydee <jaydee38@hotmail.com> Subject: White Narcissus -- Chapter 4: The House of Stewart White Narcissus Chapter 4: The House of Stewart By: Jaydee for my e-mail friend who is hairy and handsome. Phillip awoke abruptly, a cold sweat covering his naked body. The hair on his chest and belly was damp and matted. His cock was straining and hurtful at full piss-hard. He lay still a moment, trying to recall the elements of his nightmare -- male bodies entwined, wrestling, twisting, churning. Flashing images of long, veiny mandicks shooting like firehoses, flooding his drowning body. He jumped from the bed, noticing that his cousin Eric had already left for work, his bedcovers scattered and his dirty underwear from the previous day lying in a clump beside the bed. Phillip's head throbbed from the overindulgence in beer of the previous night and he felt like his bladder would burst before he got to the bathroom to expel the excess. As the piss flowed and his hardon descended to half-staff, Phillip recalled the "card party" of the night before with Eric and his friend, Bryan. Had Bryan actually sucked his cock as the three of them jacked off together? He wasn't sure, but he vaguely recalled that the young Californian had said he would see him tomorrow -- that is, today. The ringing phone interrupted his thoughts. Stumbling into the living room, still naked, he grabbed the instrument and managed a guttural "hello." "Hey, Phillip, it's Bryan. How're ya doin', man? We sure had a ball last night, didn't we?" Phillip cleared his aching throat. "Uh, oh, yeah, I guess so. I don't remember a lot of it." "Neither do I," laughed Eric, "and that might be just as well. I'm calling to let you know that I won't be able to come by today. I'm working on a construction job and I can't take off. I really need the money." "Oh, hey, Bryan, that's okay. You did a great job taking me around L.A. yesterday. And I can use a day to recover!" "Maybe Saturday. We can head down to San Diego or even Tiajuana. Now that would give you some memories to take back to Virginia!" "All right, that would be terrific. Maybe I'll see you Saturday." Bryan sighed with relief. He really didn't feel up to any more tourist treks after yesterday's exhausting itinerary. This was only the third day of his visit with Eric and he still hadn't quite shaken the jet lag of the flight from his East Coast home. "See ya, then. 'Bye." Hanging up the phone, Phillip glanced toward the box he had left on the table nearby. It was the handkerchief and the little white flower sent to him by John Stewart, the movie producer who had been his airliner seatmate on the flight from Dulles. He picked up the card that had accompanied the strange gift. He ran his fingers over the engraved "jSd" on the front of the card, then opened it. A phone number. An invitation to call. "Why not?" Phillip thought. "It's going to be a pretty boring day without Eric, alone in this place." He dialed, idly scratching his hairy balls that still felt damp from his sweat-soaked dreaming. "Good morning. House of Stewart," a pleasant feminine voice answered. "Uh, hello, this is--. well, is M-Mr. Stewart there?" stuttered Phillip. "I think so. Who may I say is calling?" "Uh, this is Phillip Chancellor. We met briefly a few days ago. I'm not sure he'll remember me." "Just a moment." Uh, oh, Phillip thought. Here's where I get the brushoff. He fidgeted and fondled his dangling four-inch cock, running a finger over the mushroom tip to discover the remnants of dried cum from his sexual adventure of the night before. He was startled by a jovial voice at the other end of the line. "Phillip, ah, Phillip. Hello, how are you?" He recognized the booming bass of John Stewart, the tall, handsome man he had met on the plane. "Oh, I'm fine, just fine, Mr. Stewart," Phillip said. "I got your--um--gift and I wanted to thank you. It's much nicer than the handkerchief I loaned you." John Stewart laughed. "It's a small thing, a very small thing. And, please, call me John. I'm not into such formality even with younger men such as yourself. Incidentally, I'm glad you called. I'm planning a little afternoon reception up here and I was hoping you could join us -- just a few friends from the film I've been working on. You might like to meet them. They're a dedicated bunch." "Well, I don't know. I seem to be without transportation today. Maybe, ... Well, anyway, thank you for the invitation, Mr. Stew--er--John." "Don't worry about transportation. I'll send my chauffeur over in the limousine to pick you up. He already knows the way since he brought the little box there yesterday. He'll be there about 2. Is that okay?" "Well, uh, yeah, sure. Two. I'll be ready." Phillip hung up the phone, shaking his head at the potential in this new L.A. adventure. He loped to the bathroom, jumped into the shower and soaped up his hairy, six-foot-three body, giving special attention to his armpits, cock, balls and asscrack. Maybe some pussy, he thought as his cock rose to semi-erectness. A big Hollywood producer, a film crew, lots of pretty women and good-looking men. Phillip dressed carefully: his new silk boxer shorts in a paisley pattern, a white athletic shirt that exposed a good portion of his broad, hairy chest, a pair of Ralph Lauren jeans that had reached just the right amount of stress and clung perfectly to his muscular ass and a long-sleeved hand-tailored bright red silk shirt, one of the luxury items he permitted himself on his moderate income. The limousine arrived promptly at two and Phillip accompanied the uniformed chauffeur, who held the door open for him. He settled back into the luxurious interior, finding beside him on the small bar a glass with ice, a miniature bottle of Jack Daniel's Black and a small beaker of water. He poured the drink and thought, "Now, this is the life!" After a twisting journey through city streets and past fabulous Beverly Hills mansions, the limousine finally pulled up to huge wrought-iron gate in a six-foot-high brick wall. The gate swung open immediately and the vehicle followed a wide circular drive to the front of a neoclassical home of palatial and elegant proportions. It reminded Phillip of Thomas Jefferson's Monticello in his native Virginia. The chauffeur opened the door for him and directed him to the front door under the columned portico. A tall, young butler in tuxedo opened the door and inquired: "Mr. Chancellor?" "Yes, uh, yes, I'm Phillip Chancellor," he said quietly. "Mr. Stewart is--" "Yes, sir, I know. Mr. Stewart gave me instructions. Please follow me." A definite British accent. Phillip trailed behind the handsome butler through a vaulted entry, which led to a winding marble staircase. Heading to the left of the staircase, the two men walked down a long dark corridor with doors on either side. At the end of the hallway, the butler stopped at a larger door framed in carved oaken woodwork. "Mr. Stewart said you are to knock and come in when he responds," the butler said, leaving Phillip alone in the hallway. Phillip allowed his eyes to become used to the dim light. The hallway looked like one from a luxurious hotel, with four rooms on either side. Tentatively, he knocked on the massive framed doorway. "Come in, Phillip." It was unmistakably the voice of John Stewart. A little nervously, he opened the door. What he saw inside almost made him close it again, but the reassuring voice said: "Come in, come in. Let me introduce my friend, this is Jessica. Jessica, I'm pleased to present my good friend, Phillip Chancellor." The gorgeous blond rose from the bed that she was sharing with John Stewart. She was completely nude. Her ample breasts jiggled and swayed as she stood and offered a hand to the gaping man. "Pleased to meet you," she said with a gleaming smile, her pouting lips showing a slight smear of lipstick. Phillip pushed the door shut and reached for the ivory-toned hand with bright red nails. "Uh, uh, yes, me, too," Phillip stammered, blushing slightly. A good bit of his blood was rushing to his crotch, where his cock was rising rapidly against the tightness of his Calvin Klein's. "Please don't be alarmed," said the muscled giant on the bed, spreading his legs to further expose the nine-inches of rigid cock and large dangling balls. "We would like you to join our fun. Take off your clothes and get comfortable." Hesitating a moment, Phillip stared at John Stewart's body, noting the fine tan and well-toned muscles enhancing the man's big, masculine frame. He could not avoid noticing the huge uncut peter, the fat mushroom head barely poking from the long foreskin. It glistened with a slick wetness and bore a small mark of lipstick near the tip. "We were just getting ready to fuck," John said nonchalantly as Jessica returned to his side. She spread her legs and Phillip's eyes were riveted on the shiny pinkness of her cunt, framed in a trim bush of light blond pubic hair. It also looked very wet. As Phillip carefully and nervously removed his shoes and clothes, the couple began to kiss and caress each other's bodies. Jessica's hand wrapped around the pulsing prick, pulling the foreskin completely back. One of John's massive fingers pressed into the hot moist pussy, causing Jessica to moan as their tongues entwined in a passionate french kiss. As John mounted the slender, statuesque woman, Phillip walked closer to the bed so that he could observe the thick cock sliding into the hot, moist channel. He could smell the combination of expensive perfume and mixture of male-female sexual fluids. "Come up here," said John in a commanding voice, indicating for Phillip to join them on the bed. With strong arms, John pushed Phillip into a spot just above Jessica's blond head. His throbbing cock stood upward and outward from the thick black bush of pubic hair that melded into the furry coat covering his chest and belly. He felt Jessica's tongue lapping at his balls as John gripped his hypersensitive prick in his thick fingers. "I think you're going to like this," John said, lowering his head to Phillip's cock and licking lightly at the precum-dripping head. As Jessica laved his balls and the sensitive perineum leading to his asshole, John's mouth descended slowly and wetly onto his rigid manpole. John began a rhythmic fucking of Jessica's tight young pussy at the same time as his tongue swirled up and down the turgid shaft of Phillip's manhood. "Ohhh, ummm, yeah, suck my cock," Phillip heard himself say. He was in a state of dreamlike ecstasy. "Uh, lick my balls, yeahhhh, fuck, yeah!!!" Phillip began pumping his cock into the movie producer's mouth. A mixture of saliva and precum dribbled onto the jostling white breasts beneath them and Phillip could see John's huge, veiny prick pistoning rapidly in and out of the hot, clinging pussy lips. "Nnnnughhh," groaned John, his mouth impaled on the younger man's straining prick and his nose buried in his thick, black public bush. Jessica began to breath heavily as she sucked first one and then another of Phillip's dangling nuts. "Oh, God, oh, yeah, oooooh," Phillip fairly shouted. "I'm cummming! Take it, take my load, oh, fuck!!!!!" John gobbled at the spurting prick, trying to capture all of the exploding manjuice. Jessica screamed in a high-pitched announcement of her own orgasm. Pulling off Phillip's still-twitching peter, John lunged forward, planting his own cum-drooling tool far up into the squeezing recesses of Jessica's cunt. He feel forward and kissed the gasping young blond, forcing much of Phillip's cumload into her mouth. "Ahhh, yes, ummmm," John moaned. Phillip's draining dick wiped itself almost clean in the thick dark mop of John's hair. "That was excellent," roared John. "I hope we got it all on film!" Phillip stared into his grinning handsome face. "Now what have I got myself into," he wondered.