Date: Sun, 12 Nov 2000 19:54:11 -0000
From: Chas Bryant <charbry@supanet.com>
Subject: uncle-jules-7

UNCLE JULES - 7

I think that my mother began to suspect. But she was very good about it.

"Why doesn't Gervase sleep in the spare room?"

I thought quickly. "We don't like to make too much work for you. And
it's easier for us to talk."

"But aren't you two a bit old to be sharing a bed?"

"Well, it's not as though we aren't of the same sex."

"Yes, exactly." Her voice trailed off into something resembling a
question. I prayed that she wouldn't take it further and she didn't.

Some kids complain that their parents have no time for them and are
always busy. Well mine were always busy, but far from complaining I
was very glad because it meant that they didn't have the time to
concentrate on me.

If Gervase was staying over, Saturday morning was my favourite since
my parents are busier on a Saturday than on a normal working day.
Besides both having demanding jobs they also go in for the socialising
and activity-leisure in a big way. On Saturdays they are frantic and are
only too pleased not to have any kids under their feet. They are usually
out of the house by 8.30. I often wonder where they get their energy
from, being myself of a somewhat sleepy disposition.

It was delightful to awake and find Gervase beside me. If he were still
asleep I would look across at him and begin the old debate as to whether
he looked more beautiful asleep than awake. To be sure his eyes were
shut, and that was a minus since his eyes were so beautiful; but his face in
the calm repose of sleep was enough to make you weep. The long black
lashes against the soft brown cheeks, the closed lips with their natural
pout, the disarrayed hair over the lovely shape of his forehead - it was all
a wonderful poem.

And the quietness, apart from the slow ticking of my clock, the
occasional muted sound from the street, Gervase's slow soft breathing,
made it seem as if the world were holding its breath until the moment
when he stirred and his lids were lifted and light was given unto us.

Fiat lux - let there be light. And Gervase opened his eyes and there was
light. And Chas saw the light, that it was good. (My joke, but believe me
I am not joking!)

Gervase began to get very prickly on the subject of Harrison and seemed
rather incensed when I told him that Harrison really fancied him very
much which was why he was always hanging around me.

"If it's me he fancies, why is he hanging around you?"

Good question.

"He's frightened that you might be rude to him."

"Don't be stupid. A big bastard like that! Frightened I might be rude to
him."

"You can be a bit cutting at times."

"But he's twice my size."

"Size doesn't come into it. You know how to put people down."

"Me?" He obviously found it hard to believe. "Have I ever put you
down?" he asked, patently thinking he never had.

"Once or twice."

He let this sink in, not at all pleased with what he heard. If a retort was
forming itself in his mind (and I had no doubt that it was), he managed to
stifle it.

I had the impression that he viewed this as a red herring and was still
convinced that I was encouraging Harrison in his amorous advances.
Well, to be honest I was doing a bit of that as well. In fact it was getting
rather more serious than I had anticipated.

Another day when I was having a private conversation with Aris he asked
what it was like to be shagged by a bloke. I honestly replied that I did not
know, since it had never happened to me.

"Would you like to be shagged by someone?" he pressed.

"No, I don't think I would. And certainly not by someone with as big a
prick as yours."

"Oh, you've noticed?"

"Well you're always pressing it up against me, I'd be blind and clueless if
I didn't."

"And you've seen it?"

"You're always waving it around in the loos. Everyone's seen it."

He smiled. "So you think it's big?"

"It's big."

He was silent for a while. Then he asked, "OK, so you've never been
shagged. But did you ever shag another bloke?"

I wasn't answering that one. He understood and started nudging me in an
excited fashion. "You have haven't you? I bet you have."

I couldn't help but laugh. "You sexy bastard Chas," was what he said. "I
wish you would try it on me. I'm dying to know what it's like."

I was certainly tempted. It was a long time since I had done any shagging.
Gervase was dead set against it, thought that it would make him an utter
poofter if he let anyone have his arse. And Aris definitely had the better
arse of the two. For shagging purposes, Aris was exactly right.

Aris always seemed to know what I was thinking, like there was some
telepathic bond between us that I was unable to blanket out.

He put his hand on my arm and said, really rather mistily, "You want me,
don't you? You want to have me?"

I just stared at him, knowing that he was probably reading everything that
was written in my soul. I said nothing, which prompted him to say, "I
knew it, Chas. Well, you sexy hunk, anytime you like."

He put his hand on my cock. It was hard. How could he not know? I
pushed him roughly away, really annoyed with him, but mostly with
myself. How could I even dream of being unfaithful to Gervase?

How indeed? But I am ashamed to say that I did. I put it down to nature,
that's my excuse. Why was it so important for her to shape a man's back
view into one of the most gorgeous things in the world?

And if Harrison had not been so obviously and eagerly available it would
never have happened.

Weeks passed, as weeks do. I loved Vaz as much as ever - more than
ever now that he looked so beautiful with his face framed by a black mass
of naturally wavy hair. When he stood naked by my dressing table at
night before getting into bed, his back to me, I would rest against the
headboard with my arms behind my head and just drink him in. He had
nice slim buns and a most inviting crack, and the whole shape, from the
top of his head with its luxuriant hair down to his slim ankles, was such
as to make me literally tremble with desire.

Or if I woke in the morning pressed against him my cock ached to probe
between his soft slim buns as he lay turned against me. Once I very
nearly got inside him. I thought I would just take him while he was
asleep. I got lots of spit on my cock and very gently slipped between the
twin mounds of desire and the feeling was sensational. He moaned in his
sleep and I thought he was enjoying it. This made me absolutely crazy for
him. Rape was not out of the question.

I thought of Uncle Jules and his delicious posterior, although of course
Vaz had a very different shape and his buns were less of an impediment
(if I can put it that way) than Jules' own double half-moon and
fleshy/muscular mounds of sweet meat. (God! I am starting to drool while
writing this.) And in my madness - because I was almost possessed with
desire - I couldn't credit that Vaz would not enjoy it as heartily as Jules
had.

I moved slowly, positioning myself with my upper half away from
Gervase's back and my cock pointing straight toward his hole, so that our
two bodies formed a rough Y-shape, joined at cock and arse. It was warm
in the room and the covers were half off us and I could see my cock
pulsing with eagerness. I applied more spit until it was glistening in the
red light from the closed bedroom curtains with the sun rising outside. I
was possessed with the one thought and slowly began to push against
Gervase's warm and puckered floret.

"Get off Chas," he said in a very firm voice and immediately turned so
that my wet cock was against his. He was hard too.

I laid my head against his shoulder beseechingly and wheedled in
desperation. "Please let me Gervase. Please darling?"

Adamant. Unyielding. "No, I have told you before. No way Chas."

I actually began to cry. But he was unmoved, reverting to his other harder
self.

"It's no good. I never want you to fuck me, ever."

There was no softness in his approach, no hint of apology - though he of
course had nothing to apologise for - no soothing or pandering to the
disagreeable fact. I seemed suddenly to view his character from a
different angle, and an unflattering one at that. It was not really the actual
fact to which I objected, although it was nasty enough, but to his
approach, to what I now saw as his hardness.

As if a different Gervase lay beside me in close embrace, his hard cock
against mine, his lips against mine, the smell of his hair in my nose and
throat. I dried my eyes with my knuckles, thinking that he might possibly
have wiped away the tears for me, as I would certainly have done for him.
And when I looked at him again, the luxuriant long hair, the ever-pouting
lips, the flawless cheeks, I saw not him, but Harrison.

That was a most strange moment. As if Harrison's manly straightforward
face had been superimposed upon Gervase's. There was hardly ever any
hint of disapproval in Aris's look, never any suggestion of double-
dealing. With dear Aris (as I now thought of him) what you saw was what
you got.

As I took Gervase's slim young body into my embrace I was thinking
about Harrison's broader shoulders and thicker torso and thighs, and his
lovely curving sensuous bum.

Then Gervase said, "I hope I haven't upset you Chas?"

But the way he said it! It sounded almost sly and with a slight crow of
victory in the tone. It was most disagreeable and nearly made me recoil.
But common sense took over and I told myself that whatever the
disappointment Gervase was nonetheless here and Gervase was willing.
As my fingers explored his prominent shoulder blades which up to now I
had found so delightful and sexy I dreamily wondered about Aris's more
meaty and muscular back and recalled too Jules's magnificent physique.

The thought of those too was enough to get me going and as Gervase laid
back in his perpetual posture of acceptance I laid my flesh upon the sleek
altar of his body with a trembly feeling of confusion and delight. Almost
as if I had made some great discovery which would change my world.

"It's all right, isn't it?" he smiled, playing with his own hair as my thighs
and cock slid along his silky brown skin.

"It feels great," I said, looking down at him with admiration and a new
understanding.

He pulled me down and whispered in my ear, "I'm glad."

I suppose it seemed to him that nothing had happened. Outwardly,
nothing had, but it's the inner movements which are always the most
important. The world is after all created by our thoughts and feelings.

Somehow after that our day did not go well. Both he and I were
introspective. After Sunday lunch, he amazed us all by saying that he had
to go home. This was a first, he usually stayed for the whole day. As he
said goodbye at the door, it felt like a most definite parting.

"Have you two quarrelled?" my mother asked.

"No," I said. "He has an important project which he has to get finished by
tomorrow."

"He always does his homework here."

"He's left the relevant papers at his house."

My mother paused, the washing-up towel in her hand, and stared at me
for a while. She knew that something was up. I averted my face. Damn!
How was it that people always seemed to know what I was thinking?

I went for a run on the Common once my lunch had had time to go down.
It was a cool afternoon and it took me a while to get up a sweat. Poor old
Ovo was panting with exhaustion. I felt down and kept thinking that it
was over between Gervase and me. I sat in the shelter at the woodland
crossroads, the magic place where the trees would sometimes talk to me.
To be honest, I was hoping that I might meet Nick, but nobody was
about. If Nick had come along I am sure we would have gone back to the
old barn and had some fun. But nothing doing.

Once Ovo was rested I resumed my run and made my way to the cottage
among the trees. The sun was just beginning to set and a coldish wind had
arisen. It was not just sex I was thinking of, I was dying for a pee. But of
course I could have easily done that among the trees away from the track.

It was dark inside the cottage and the cistern was slowly dripping as if
marking the passage of cruel time. The place was deserted and the wind
made little moaning gasps in the roof. I finished my pee and shook off the
last golden drops. I looked at the scribbled messages on the wall. I started
to stroke my cock, almost absent-mindedly, wondering if Blue Suit or
Muscle Mary would make an appearance, wondering what would happen
if they did. Wondering what my beloved Uncle Jules was doing right now
- probably shagging his busty blonde, either her or an identical model.

Or perhaps he had found another willing boy and was even now bending
over to be serviced, his delicious arse oiled up and ready for cock.

I waited, but nobody came. I looked at my watch and thought 'Just five
minutes more.' Five minutes passed and still I was alone. I took pity on
poor old Ovo and went out. At least you could always rely on a dog for
love, I reflected bitterly as I set out to run home through the twilight trees.

*   *   *

The next morning was a miserable one, waking up and not finding
Gervase beside me. I felt absolutely alone and absolutely depressed, like
that time when Uncle Jules went away and I tried to top myself. I lay in
late and the grey thoughts mounted up until I felt half crushed by misery.

Until I thought of Harrison. Yes, Harrison. I could visualise his broad and
smiling face, his slightly puffy cheeks like a hamster's when it begins to
eat. His meaty shoulders and the wonderful curve of his butt. 'Bubble
butt' was what the Americans called it, and he had it to perfection. I
recalled his once annoying habit of pressing himself against me, his cock
hard or half-hard. His indecent suggestions. His availability.

But no, I was not yet ready for that. Still I would find it very difficult to
be unfaithful to Gervase.

When I saw Gervase at school on the Monday he seemed very
preoccupied. I asked him if he was all right and he said he was worried
about his history project.

"I could have helped you with it yesterday if you had not gone home so
early."

"It would have ended in making love and no work would have been done.
Besides, I have to do it for myself. I cannot rely on you all the time."

I stared at him in silence for a while. He seemed not to want to meet my
eyes. I asked him, "Have I annoyed you in some way?"

"No, of course not. Don't be stupid."

"Am I being so stupid?"

"At the moment you are."

He began to pull at his hair with his fingers, an annoying habit he had
developed since he grew his hair long. He looked at me from under his
long black lashes.

"Look, Gervase, the fucking thing is not that important to me, honestly."

"I know, Chas. You can always fuck Harrison. Here he comes now. I
have to be going."

He turned and walked away from me, his long hair blowing in the breeze.
>From the opposite direction came Harrison, whistling and smiling. His
hair was cut very short, an inch crop of silky blondness. He saw my
expression and said, "Oops! Sorry. Hope I haven't interrupted anything?"
Then, looking after Vaz's retreating figure, "What's wrong with His
Lordship?"

"I wish I knew. I think he's going off me."

Aris put his arm around my shoulder as we walked together toward the
hall. He said, "Never mind, I still love you. And I am still available." He
squeezed my shoulders and it made me feel good.

Unfortunately, Vaz happened to look back at us at that exact moment. He
saw Aris hugging me, scowled darkly, and hurried on and away from us. I
was very annoyed at his petulant ways and I said to Aris, "It's good to
know you haven't gone off me too."

"Never, mate, not in a million years." And he squeezed me again.

Whether what he said was the truth or a convenient fiction, at least he
was being nice to me, and I needed that badly at the moment. I boldly put
my arm around his waist and squeezed him back.

He looked at me through a broad and friendly grin.

"Queer boys!" shouted one of our mates, whizzing past us into the hall.

*   *   *

All this took place - what? Five or six years ago. But it seems like a
different life, someone else's life. I can look back at it and watch it but it's
like an old film of which you know the story and the outcome too well. I
see him, Chas, myself, slowly disengaging from the love of his life over
the next few months, not by choice but because Gervase has changed, and
for reasons that are still obscure to me.

My guess is that he either was not gay at all, or gay only for the short
time when we were together. Perhaps it was I that led him into the
experience which, without me, he would never have inclined towards.
Perhaps the idea of being fucked by me suddenly brought home to him
the situation he was in, and he found he didn't like it.

Whatever the reason, we drifted apart. We no longer sat together in
history lessons. Whenever we needed to speak or to be together, we were
friendly, but for myself that faint friendship was like an insult to the
memory of my previous love for him. I never stopped loving him at all
and he will forever remain a part of me, an indissoluble portion of my
own personality which for a time I shared intimately with him.

It is, and was, sad. But life must go on, that is the imperative. I could not
do without passionate friendship, it was my life-blood. So I turned to
Harrison. But our friendship was never as intense as what I felt for
Gervase. And perhaps that was a good thing.

So, we moved on. And it happened like this.

Harrison was deeply into amateur wrestling, a sport of which I knew
nothing. His personality was basically physical, he was not the thinking
type. His answer to any problem in life was to get out there and engage in
some form of physical activity.

I tagged along with him to a couple of his club's meetings and Harrison
told me that he would himself teach me the art of wrestling. My ears
pricked up at the thought of this, and so did my knob.

Our relationship had changed now that Gervase was away from centre
stage. Harrison no longer felt the need to keep trying to win me over. But
we both knew that we would sooner or later be reaching the physical
stage of our little affair. It was as if we had suddenly become a bit shy of
each other. It was weird and it made me shiver when I thought about it. It
was, I think, a shiver of anticipation.

Anyway, Harrison managed to get the keys of the clubroom for a little
extra mural activity. How he did it I don't know, it was a privilege he
shared with no one else. I think he might have had some hold over the
club's leader. But then Aris could get around anyone when he really
turned on the charm.

The day before we were to meet for 'lessons' Harrison said that we would
have to have the right equipment. He had a new leotard for himself and
would let me wear his old one since we were approximately the same
size. I said this would be fine, whatever he wanted.

He smiled. "Absolutely whatever, Chas?"

"Within reason."

"Well if I give you some wrestling lessons, show you a few holds" - we
were both laughing now - "you can teach me some new things too.
Remember what I asked you before?"

I pretended not to, just to see how he would react.

He slipped his hand under my school jacket and carressed my nipples
through my shirt. He hadn't done anything like that for weeks. This time I
did not object since there was no Vaz to worry about.

"You know," he said, blushing slightly. "How to have proper sex with
another bloke."

"We need some equipment for that too," I said, feeling like a dirty old
man trying to seduce an innocent.

"Condoms," he said, looking at my mouth.

"That. And some oil for easy entrance."

We were both blushing now. Excited. I felt like jumping on him straight
away.

After school we went round to the local chemist (more blushes) and
bought what we needed. Aris knew what was what in the condom line, no
doubt from his experiences with girls, but I had to point him to the correct
lubricant. (The one Jules had always used and said was the best.)

"Now we're all kitted out," he stated and he held my hand and squeezed
it on the street. I looked at him and felt the ground sway under my feet, as
if my balance was going. He said, "No wanking tonight or tomorrow
morning. You have to save it for the occasion, for me."

"Don't know if I will be able to keep me hands off meself. I will be
thinking about you."

He looked at me as if he were puzzled. "How did it come to this?" he
asked. Then he said, "We must be careful not to fall in love, you know?"

"I know," I replied, thinking of Vaz.

Aris winked and walked away.


Any comments welcome at charbry@supanet.com