Date: Sun, 15 May 2016 19:37:22 +0200
From: Julian Obedient <julian.obedient@gmail.com>
Subject: How We Touch 6

* How We Touch*


*A Common Touch*



     In the half fog of waking, Chrissie was hearing Julian softly singing.
His palm hovered lightly over her nipples, hardly touching. He was gazing
at her with a half-formed smile. It broke into fullness when he saw her
eyes open all the way and reveal in them morning's brightness.

     "Julian," Chrissie said as he kissed her. She shivered as a current of
electricity trembled through her body and made her stretch.

     "Good morning," Julian said, "my beloved sleepy head. I felt you kiss
me in my sleep last night when you came to bed. I stirred but could not
wake. It was as if in a dream that you were embracing me. I felt you come
inside me and caress me afterwards. I love the way your body is warm in bed
beside me when we sleep."

    Chrissie wrapped her bare arms around Julian's neck and pulled him down
to her and pressed his lips to hers. Their mouths opened and their tongues
met in a long and silent lovers' discourse.

     As they kissed she teased his nipple, rubbing it between her thumb and
forefinger. She slid her lips away from his and blew warm breath up the
side of his neck to made a path to his ear. She touched her tongue inside
his ear and probed it. He shivered with delight.

     "Do you love me, Julia?"

     "Yes."

     "Say it. Tell me that you love me."

     "I love you,"

     "Tell me that you are my obedient slave."

     "I am your obedient slave."

     "Tell me you are my girl."

     "I am your girl."

     "Finger me, Julia. Make love to me like a woman."

     Julian felt himself to be a beautiful girl with lovely breasts, hips,
long legs, and an oozing cunt. He pressed his snatch against Chrissie's and
began to writhe with her. They kissed and orgasmic flashes burst within
them until they lay saturated from exhaustion in each other's arms.



     Snow had fallen all night long, and Chrissie had been delayed at the
theater where adjustments were being made to the sets he had designed, and
he had to stay around for consultations with the carpenters. The streets
outside had not yet been plowed, and the taxi hesitated as it made its way,
creeping south down Ninth Avenue; heavy pellets of snow were hurled against
its windows by the storm.

     Now, in the morning, Tenth Street was blanketed in undisturbed snow.
In the fireplace in the music room, James had built a luscious fire. He was
at the piano figuring out a fugue for the Paolo and Francesca episode of
the Dante Cantata he was composing. It was a commission from the Interlex
Foundation, and Gustavo Dudamel had seen some of it already and had
scheduled it for next season in Los Angeles. In his head James was
listening to Julian's voice sing the passages he was writing for Francesca.

     "Chris, Julian," James greeted them when they staggered into the music
room, looking up from going over the score. "Good morning." They were
balancing cups of coffee and croissants.

     "Good morning," James. "You are up early."

     He smiled. "I've got a deadline," he said, and with eager
anticipation, looked at Julian and said, "Julian, I think this works." He
held out a sheet of the score for him to take.

     Julian put the things he was carrying down on a marble-top side table
and took the score that James was holding out to him. He was wearing a long
forest green robe of raw silk with gold piping on the cuffs and lapels. It
accidentally fell open when he took the music from James. Underneath he had
on silk fuchsia bikini panties. Julian fastened the belt to his robe.
"Excuse me," he said.

     "No need for excuses," James said, smiling. "What do you think?" James
said, pointing to the sheet music. "I think you can do it."

     Julian looked at the music. "You want me to sing it now?"

     "If you feel awake enough."

     Julian nodded, and James began to play a wistful phrase whose
melancholy flirted with rapture, turned to agitation, and found its
resolution in heartbreakingly bitter resignation. Julian listened as if
lost inside the melody, and when it was his to do, he sang Francesca's
lament as James raveled the piano accompaniment around his words:

*Amor, ch'a nullo amato amar perdona,*

* mi prese del costui piacer sì forte, che, come vedi, ancor non
m'abbandona.*

     *James modulated back to the original material once the vocal section
ended, but as he developed it, within its painful melancholy he wove a
phrase more hopeful, a hint of the celestial theme that Francesca does not
sing, cannot sing, the song of a mystery that she cannot know or
experience, that she can only long for without having any sense of what it
would sound like, but that Beatrice will sing, and with it flood the
heavens with radiance, in the final section of the cantata.*



*     December 24th: all day the four prepared for the evening. It was a
tradition that Todd and James began the year that they bought the house and
started living together. They brought, each year, everyone they knew
together on Christmas Eve, friends and acquaintances, co-workers and
colleagues. It became an event no one would miss. In the morning they
brought home and installed in the living room a grand evergreen. They
strung it with lights, and ropes of gold and silver. It *rose above a
village with cotton snow and pebbles covering a plywood ground and a mirror
lake upon which frolicked skating figurines. A winding expanse of railroad
track dotted with towers, tunnels, and platforms snaked through the busy
terrain of pine trees, oaks, and maples, utility poles, general stores,
houses, farms, and workshops. Upon this track a locomotive pulled passenger
cars, boxcars, and a red caboose. A lone horse stood in a field near a
stable.

     After noon and a makeshift lunch, a succession of deliveries began.
>From the bakery came still-warm loaves of grainy breads, brioches, English
fruitcakes, and over-rich chocolate fudge cakes, and a large shiny Opera.
>From the Russian specialty store several salmon and sturgeon coulibiacs.
>From the butcher, a lamb gigot, a roast beef, and a juicy, glazed ham. From
the greengrocer, baskets of fruit and nuts. From the liquor store, cartons
of vodka, scotch, quinine, soda water, and champagne.

    "I've never seen so much food," Chrissie said.

     "Well, look at it now, because by the end of the night there'll be
nothing to see," James said.

     Late afternoon, everything was set and it was possible to take a nap,
but no one wanted to. Instead they stripped and all four went into the
master shower outside the sauna in the basement.

     Julian and Chrissie were like schoolgirls with crushes when they gazed
upon Todd's and James' lithely muscular bodies and handsome faces, and Todd
and James, laughing happily, delighted in the twinks, the beautiful and
feminine boys, with their soft cocks, so sweet of spirit and beautiful of
flesh, who adored them.

     James took Julian gently in his arms, pressed his soft body to his
hard body and soaped him all over, as Todd did with Chrissie, paying
special attention to anal slits and genitals and their boy nipples. Julian
touched James' masculine cock with awe, Chrissie held Todd's in his palm
with reverence.

     "Go ahead," the young men said, sensing their desire.

     The boys knelt under the warm spray and kissed the masculinity that
made them tremble. They took into their mouths with eager desire those
cocks and worshipped them until they gushed and spurted, and they swallowed
that essence, and gathered strength from it. Nor had the young men stopped
playing with the boys' clitty-cocks, and fingering them inside. Chrissie
and Julian vibrated like violin strings and came in unison.

     Afterwards, they dried each other, and wrapped themselves in soft and
snow-white terry robes; each couple went to their dressing rooms to prepare
themselves for the fete. *There they donned their gay apparel. Let us
follow them to their closets.*

*    Julian wore a floor-length, long-sleeve, scoop-neck, low-back, red
velvet gown, belted at the waist, fitted on the hips, beginning just above
the knees to fan out; with a long slit along the leg to mid thigh. He wore
black translucent paisley stockings – a green lace garter circling his
thigh -- and jade green ankle straps; around his neck, a silver choker in
which jade green stones were set.*

*     Chrissie wore the same thing, but his gown was green, his stockings
red, his heels, yellow, his garter, black, his choker bronze inlaid with
rubies.*

*     Their make up was light: lipstick, eyeliner, silver eye shadow. Their
perfume was delicate, Chamade.*

*     On the floor below, James sorted his way through his closet until he
found the cardinal red tuxedo with round satin lapels and satin stripes up
the sides of the trousers. Like Todd, who was rummaging through the
hangers, too, he only had on a pair of black bikinis.*

*     "Have I told you lately that I love you?" Todd crooned, taking James
in an embrace and kissing him.*

*     James turned without taking the tuxedo down. "Tell me again," James
said.*

*     "I love you."*

*     James held him close and looked into his eyes. "You are my life. You
are the vital part of me."*

*     Once they had begun to kiss, they could not tear themselves apart.
They tumbled onto the divan and Todd pulled James' bikini down and shucked
off his own. He took James hardening cock in his palm and whispered, "Fuck
me."*

*     James took hold of his shoulders and lowered him to the couch. Todd
opened his legs and raised them in a V; James lifted them to his shoulders
and, bending down, tongued him, and when Todd was drenched with desire,
James entered him and slowly took him, gathering more and more of him until
Todd completely belonged to him.*

*     Afterwards, they shaved, and showered together, and put on cologne.*

*     That night they wore tuxedos; James, cardinal red, with a blue-grey
cashmere turtleneck; Todd, forest green, with a bronze-colored raw silk
shirt and a red bow tie. Their soft leather boots were black, and hugged
their calves. *