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James and William

phoneguy2

phoneguy2

Vintage Twink
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Location
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He sits by the window watching. Today is no different from yesterday, the day before that, or any other day, for that matter. He reads the note one more time, the yellowing of the paper betraying the fact it had been written long ago.

My darling James,
I will be only be gone a short while. I must
attend to this now or we will never be able to
achieve the happiness we both so desire.
Wait for me, my love.
Yours forever,
William​

Memories surrounded him, a single tear ran down his cheek. The ghosts of the past were speaking to him once more. If only he could understand what they were saying. At times it seemed they were speaking in riddles, at others it seemed they were taunting him. He opened the old photo album.

The men were smiling. Several photos were taken at a beach, the sun bright on the water behind them, their happiness at being together obvious on their faces. The next few pages were of a camping trip, a tent stood among the pines of a forest, the men laying before a fire in front of it, a slim black cord running from the right hand of one to the foreground of the snapshot.

The last pages were all basically the same picture, but different as the man sitting in front of the window aged slowly as he waited, the same cord visible in most.

So many questions swirled around in his mind, the answers there but he was unable to bring them into focus. Replacing the note in the album, he stood and walked around the room. He touched the familiar objects sitting around, picking up one to hold in his hand while he let his mind sift through the thoughts. The ringing phone jarred him from his almost dream like state.

“Yes?”

“I’ve found it!” The happiness in his voice from the discovery seemed to leap from the phone and fill the room.

“Did you make copies?”

“Yes, I’ll be there within ten minutes. I just had to call to tell you.”

“Good. I’ll see you then.” He hung up the phone and returned to the window. He stood this time, gazing at the small garden and stone path in the front of the old Victorian house. The hope that finally he would have an answer overwhelmed him. He allowed the lace curtain to fall back over the window, obscuring his view. He returned to the chair, picked up the photo album once more and his mind traveled back to the day of his discovery.
 
He and his partner had bought the house five years earlier. After spending several months refinishing woodwork and floors, painting and papering all the rooms they were able to move in. Roaming around the large attic one day he discovered an old chest in a back corner. Pulling it to the middle of the floor for more room and light he opened it. The only thing inside was an old photo album. He took the album downstairs.

It lay on a table in the sitting room for a week or more before he opened it. As he held it a yellowed piece of paper, folded once in the center fell out. He read the note. His interest was spiked. Slowly turning the pages he studied each picture. When he came to the series of the man sitting in the window he wondered why there were so many copies of the same one. With a magnifying glass in hand he moved to better lighting and studied each picture closely. They were the same except taken at different times. The man in the picture slowly aged.

Why would he chronicle his sitting in the window? He reread the note. Suddenly it dawned on him. The man was showing that he waited for his lover to return. Why didn’t the lover return? What did he have to get settled? So many questions swirled around in his mind. Once more he went through the book, studying each photograph. Once more he read the note.

That night he had the first dream. It was vivid and real, it was as if he was experiencing it himself. The two men lay on a blanket in front of a tent, tall pine trees surrounding and protecting them. The light of the fire illuminated them in shades of red and orange. Slowly they removed each other’s clothing, their movements slow and tender. Once fully nude they embrace and kiss, long, deep passionate kisses. One is blond and almost totally smooth, a small patch of hair above his long hard cock and small wisps of hair under his arms. The other, darker hair on his head and his body fully covered in dark, curly hair. His cock was shorter but thicker, the head large and almost angry looking.

They rolled around on the blanket wrapped in each others arms. Once the smooth one was his back the darker one raised up and lowered himself between his lover’s legs, his mouth open and ready to take the long cock inside, which he did in one swift movement. The smooth one clenched his ass cheeks and raised his hips off of the ground, his hands went to each side of his partner’s head. Fast furious movements followed, up and down, from tip to base. The smooth one pumped his hips in the air and seemed to cry out into the night.

The dark one held his head low, his face pressed against the small pubic patch as he swallowed the cum his lover was emptying down his throat. The smooth one slowly lowed himself back to the ground and raised his legs in the air. The dark one knelt between them and slowly pushed his thick cock into his partner. His legs tightly around the dark ones waist the smooth one pushed his body back to meet the thrusts of his lover. They were both calling out into the night, the full moon lighting their movements as they worked together toward climax. The dark one stiffened and with one hard final thrust emptied his load inside his lover.

The man awoke, sweat soaked his body, a large wet spot was on his underwear, the sticky feel of cum surrounded his hard cock. He got out of bed and went to the bathroom. He stripped off his cum soaked underwear and turned on the water in the shower. Before stepping into the shower he glanced to the left and saw his reflection in the full length mirror. His blond hair stuck to his head and face from sweat. His smooth body glistened from the sweat, the small thin pubic patch above his crotch coated with drying cum. He raised his arm, the thin wisp of hair there slightly darker than the hair on his head. He turned the water off and walked out of the bathroom.

The album lay open to the first page of the series of the man in the window. He didn’t remember leaving it open. In fact since he had found it, he had been careful to always refold the note and place it back in the album and return it to the place he kept it on the table in the sitting room. He shook his head trying to clear it. He studied the man in the window, James. William was the darker one.

He put the album back on its table, being sure to close it this time. He stood in front of the mirror studying himself. He heard a noise behind him and felt the arms of his lover go around him, his chin resting on his shoulder, “Are you all right, James?”

He turned and took his lover into his arms, pressing his head against his hairy chest, “I’m fine. I just had a bad dream. Go back to bed, I’m going to take a shower and be right there.”

“Want me to take a shower with you?”

“That would be nice, William.”
 
excellent start to what will be another story from the master
 
I'm definitely intrigued and I love the style. :=D:
 
Thanks guys, I was a little nervous about posting this one. Glad you are enjoying it.

Wally



The two of them stepped into the shower, facing each other as the water sprayed over their heads and ran down their bodies. “Why did you call me William?”

The lighter haired one looked surprised, “I didn’t, or least I don’t think I did.” He swirled the soapy bubbles around in his partner’s chest hair.

“Yes, you did. Who is William?”

“Scott, this is ridiculous. I don’t even know any one named William. We have a Bill as a friend but I’ve never heard him called William.”

“Maybe you were dreaming about him then. What was the dream about, anyway?” He pulled his smooth lover close to him and held him tightly.

James thought for a minute, Scott did not share the same fascination with the album. He had found it interesting but hadn’t even looked at it since it was first discovered. “I don’t remember, all I know is I woke up sweating and could hardly breath. I wasn’t afraid though.”

Scott ran his hand down his lover’s mid section and ran his fingers in the thin pubic hair, “From the amount of cum here you were more turned on than anything else.”

“I must have been dreaming about you then, my love.” He kissed his partner deeply, melting into the sensations that filled both of them. By the time they had achieved satisfaction the water was cold.

Back in bed James slept with his head on Scott’s hairy chest. No more dreams came that night.

The following weekend they were attending an auction in the next small town over. It was the estate of an elderly woman and most of the items offered were antique. While browsing along the row of furniture James stopped in front of a chair and table sitting side by side. The image of a man sitting in the chair, a lamp sitting on the table and the window in the background flashed through his mind.

“Scott, I want these. We have to get a number so we can bid.”

Scott examined the items closely, “The table is in perfect shape but the chair needs to be recovered. Where would we put them?”

“I think they would be great in the window in the front sitting room. I could try to clean up the fabric on the chair before we decide to recover it. The colors would be perfect for that room.” He looked at Scott, his eyes displaying hope.

“If you want them that much wait here, I’ll go get a number.” As Scott walked away James sat in the chair, his eyes gazing across the rows of furniture and items placed on the lawn. He froze, his eyes locked onto the lamp. Keeping it in sight he walked between the assorted furniture and stood in front of it. The hammered copper base showed signs of age, the tortoise shell shade a little dusty but in perfect shape. He picked it up and carried it back to his original place. Placing on the table he stepped back and looked. The image of the man sitting there was so strong in his mind that he didn’t notice Scott return to stand beside him.

He felt the arm go around his waist and looked over at Scott. “I don’t care what it takes but I have to have all three.”

“You’re starting to worry me just a little, James. The look on your face as I walked up wasn’t you. It was strange. What is it about these things that has you like this?”

James laughed. “Don’t worry, my love. I was just imagining how perfect this will look in that front window.”

The auction was moving at a fast pace. James was the only one to bid on the chair and he had to only make a small opening bid to claim it. The table went for more than he thought but he was successful with it also. The lamp started with three people bidding but one dropped out after two rounds. The second stayed for two more then dropped out. While James paid the tab Scott moved his truck closer.

James had been correct, cleaning the fabric restored it’s beauty. By nightfall the three pieces sat in the window of the front sitting room, the lamp casting it’s light out onto the front garden. James sat in the chair, picked up the album and opened it to the first page of series of the man sitting watching out of the window.

He could hear Scott in the kitchen preparing dinner but his mind was on the man. He closed his eyes.

The darker one was standing by the door, his hand on the knob. “I have to, my love. We will never find peace if I don’t.”

“No, William, you will never find peace. I am fine with our love. Please stay, I’m afraid you won’t come back.” His eyes filled and tears began to run down his cheeks. The darker one walked over and knelt in front of him, taking his hands in his own.

“You know how deeply I love you, how happy I am when I am with you but I must do this also. It is my responsibility.”

The hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present. He looked up. “Dinner is ready, James. You looked a thousand miles away.”

“I guess I dozed off. This chair is very comfortable.” He closed the album and placed it back on the table.

That night he had another dream. The men were on the beach, shirts open and blowing in the breeze, pant legs rolled up to the knees, bare feet splashing water as they ran around in the surf. They were laughing as they chased and splashed each other. The darker one slipped and fell into the shallow water. When the smooth one held out his hand to help his partner up, the darker pulled causing the smooth one to fall next to him. They embraced.

A wave cascaded over them, withdrawing back to the ocean to reveal the two men tightly bound together, locked in a deep kiss. The smooth one lay atop the darker one, his hips moving slightly as they kissed deeper.

They stood, walking away from the water, the bulge of their erections visible through the wet fabric, close together, arms around the others’ waist. The smooth one ran his other hand across the hairy chest of the darker one. They threw their heads back in laughter.

“James, wake up. You’re dreaming again.” He slowly opened his eyes. Scott was on his side leaning close and over him. “You were laughing so loud it woke me up. Do you remember what you were dreaming?”

He reached his arms up and pulled Scott down on top of him. “Scott, do you remember that old album I found in the attic?”

His fingers outlined the contours of his lover’s face “Oh, honey, you need to put that thing back in the attic. You almost seem to be obsessed with it.”

“I was on the beach with them, Scott. My dream last week was at the campsite. I saw them make love and felt like I was part of it. The blond one is trying to tell me something.”

He kissed his lover’s cheek. “You are making too much of this. I’m going to go put that thing back in the attic. We don’t even know who those guys are. You go back to sleep, I’ll be right back”

He watched his partner walk from the room, the dark hair prominent on the round white cheeks of his ass. When Scott slipped back into bed he curled around him and fell back to sleep.

After Scott had left for work he washed the morning dishes and walked into the front sitting room. The first thing to catch his eye was the album. It lay open on the table, the folded note standing upright, one edge tucked into the crevice of the pages.
 
Wow! It's getting eerie in a wonderful way. I've always loved the idea of things like this happening. Continue on please....

Craiger
 
He read the note, refolded it and placed it back in the album. As he climbed the stairs to the attic he wondered why Scott had changed his mind and not returned it here the night before. Opening the trunk he placed the album inside, shut the lid, and left it in the middle of the room as he returned downstairs.

He spent most of the day working at his computer. Establishing a home office had been a good idea. The extra time at home had been a lifesaver as they refurbished the house. Now it allowed him the freedom to do as he pleased during the day.

By the time Scott returned home from his work and they had prepared and eaten dinner James had forgotten about the album still being downstairs. That night the dream returned. It was short and like an old loop movie kept repeating. The blond man sat in the chair, the note in his hand, tears streaming down his face. He would stand, walk to the door, open it and stare into the night. He would return to the chair, sit, read the note and repeat the process at the door. James wasn’t sure if the dream itself was repeating or the man was simply repeating his actions.

“James, wake up.” He did. Scott was lovingly wiping the tears from his cheeks, his fingers caressing then lingering upon them. “Is it them again?”

“No, just the blond one. He was reading the note and crying.” He stopped, the memory of the open album on the table that morning filling his mind. “Why didn’t you take the album back to the attic last night?”

“I did. I didn’t put it back in the trunk, I just laid it up there on a box. Why?” Concern filled Scott’s eyes as he gazed down at his lover.

A shiver passed through James, “It was on the table this morning, open to reveal the note.” He pulled Scott down to him and held him tight. “How did it get back there, Scott?”

Scott could feel James shaking as he returned the embrace. “Is it still there?”

“No, I took it back upstairs and put it in the trunk.”

Scott raised up, “Let’s go up there, I want to read that note again.” They slowly climbed the stairs to the attic. The trunk sat in the middle of the floor, open. And empty. The looked at each other and James nodded slowly.

The album lay open on the table, the note prominent in the center. Scott removed it and read through it twice before turning to James. “His name is William. Can you remember anything about that first dream, the one you had the night you called me William?”

“Just what I told you before. They were by the tent on a blanket.” He turned the pages to the photos of the camping trip. “Do you believe me now, Scott? I’ve never really believed in ghosts or the paranormal but there is something going on here.”

“I know I was skeptical at first but you are right. I know I put this damned thing upstairs. And you said you did again today. How did it get back down here, and why is it always opened to the note?”

“I think the answer is in the note itself. We have to find out who these guys are. Also what happened that made William leave and obviously never come back.” A thought came to his mind. “What happened to that abstract we got at the closing on the house?”

“It’s in the file cabinet in your office. Why?”

“It would have the names and other information about every body who has owned this house. We never looked at it when we got it.” They walked to the office. It didn’t take them very long to find what they were looking for.

James Morrow owned the house from 1921 until his death in 1957. At various times during his ownership he rented rooms to other gentlemen. There was no mention of a wife or any other family. Also there was no mention of a lover or partner. James wrote down the name and pertinent dates. “I’m going to the library tomorrow to look up old copies of the local newspapers.”

They went back to bed, the album left in it’s place on the table. As they lay cuddled together Scott said, “That is the same furniture. Maybe you should check into the woman from the sale. She may have a connection to this.”

“You’re right, it is too much of a coincidence for her to have all three pieces. She must be connected somehow”

They slept fitfully, James almost afraid to go into deep sleep and more dreams and Scott wanting to keep a protective ear open for any signs of distress.

All of the old editions of the local paper were on microfilm. James sat at a machine while the library assistant retrieved the requested rolls. He had decided to work backwards. The lady from the estate auction, Anna Henning had passed away six months before. The interesting fact, another coincidence?, was that she had been preceded in death by her husband, William, whom she had married on June 20, 1946. He printed the obituary.

James stared at the wedding photo. It had been no coincidence. The smiling man standing next to the radiant Anna was very familiar, both from photographs and dreams. James could imagine the curly dark hair covering the broad chest under the tuxedo shirt. He could see the outline of the thick cock in the folds of the trousers. He printed the announcement also.

James Morrow had passed away on June 20, 1957. His body, sitting in the chair in the front sitting room, had been discovered by the cleaning lady. The cause of death was listed as natural causes. No immediate survivors were listed. A memorial service had been held and then cremation rites were accorded. This was printed also.

He spent several hours but never found any information on William Henning other than the marriage announcement. He put the copies in a folder, thanked the assistant and went home. The album lay open once again with the note standing up in the center. “What are you trying to tell me James?” he shouted towards the album.

He sat in the chair, the album lay across his legs. He closed his eyes and let his mind empty.

The smooth man was sitting in the chair, he darker one by the door again. “You know you don’t love her. If you go there she will do whatever she can to get you to stay.”

“I have to make her understand. I love you with all of my heart, James but she is carrying my child.”

The smooth one narrowed his eyes and stared long and hard at his partner. Finally he said “Are you sure it is your child?”

The darker one walked over and stood in front of the chair “You are still hurt because I slept with her. In answer to your question, yes, I am sure it is my child. She was a virgin.” He took his lover’s hand. “I don’t know why I did it, I’ve told you that before. It just happened.”

He stood, “But did you enjoy it William? Was it the same as when you are with me? Let’s go upstairs and I will show you the love you truly need.” They walked hand in hand to the stairway and then up it side by side.

In the bedroom the smooth one removed all of the dark ones clothing and kneeling before him brought him to erection with his mouth. He then lay on the bed, his ass at the edge, his legs in the air inviting his lover to come closer. The dark one knelt beside the bed, his face between the cheeks of his partner’s ass, one hand stroking his partner, the other stroking himself.

He stood, one hand holding his thick erect cock the other probing his partner’s hole. He removed his fingers and placed his cockhead against the opening and pushed slowly. The smooth one writhed on the bed calling out in a deep, guttural voice. The dark one leaned forward, his hips moving slightly, his face buried in the crevice of his partner’s neck. The smooth one bucked his hips up off of the bed, pushing himself against the dark ones hips. The pace and force of their movements increased until the dark one threw his head back and yelled out as he pushed in as deep as he could, his one hand pumping faster and faster on his partner’s long cock. As the dark one convulsed with his orgasm the smooth one’s cock erupted in several long thick ropes of cum.

James opened his eyes. His jeans were undone, his hand wrapped around his own cock and cum dripped from his hand to the floor. He sat for a few minutes and then went to the downstairs bathroom to clean up. He was on his knees cleaning the floor when Scott came home.

They sat at the dining room table. Scott read through the copies James had made at the library then James relayed his daydream, omitting his reaction to it. “It looks like you have your answer now. William left James to marry Anna.”

“You are right. It is time to put the album away and forget about this entire thing.” James did not feel as convinced as he sounded. He did take the album back up to the attic and returned it to the trunk, including the copies from the library he closed the lid and slid the trunk back into the corner.

Life returned to normal, the only remaining evidence of the incident were the three pieces of furniture in the window of the front sitting room.

Several months later James had one of the dreams again. The men were in a cabin, a mountain range visible from the windows. They made love on an old four poster bed, a fire in a stone fireplace on the other side of the room. As they twisted and turned in their desire the fire cast a warm glow over them. After their orgasms he woke, his underwear wet and sticky. He slipped out of bed and walked to the bathroom.

After his shower he went down to the kitchen for a glass of juice. As he passed by it he glanced at the calendar on the wall. It was Friday, June 20th. A shiver ran down his spine. He walked into the front sitting room. The lamp was on, it’s light shining on the open album on the table.
 
You doing a marvellous job of telling this tale of modern-day lovers caught up in a love affair of the past.
And "The Painting" is also another fantastic work.

Please keep it up!

Justin
 
I love the twist of the past with the present. I am ready for more.
 
Scott’s gentle touch woke him. He was still in the chair, the album open on his lap, sunlight streaming in the window. “Did you bring it down again?”

“No Scott, I had another dream and when I came down here it was on the table. Another thing, today is June 20th.” That date is important to them. William and Anna were married on that date and James died on it several years later.”

“Here’s some coffee.” He handed James a mug of steaming coffee. “Something is bothering me. What about the child? You said in your daydream William wanted to go to her because she was carrying his child. But in Anna’s obituary there is no mention of a child.”

“We also don’t know when William and James discussed the pregnancy, or if it was even Anna. My dreams don’t have date stamps on them.”

Scott laughed, “That would help. Could you work on that?”

“To tell the truth, babe, I would just as soon not have them any more. I’m going to put this back upstairs and try to forget the whole thing.” He started walking towards the stairway with the album.

“Leave it down here. If you are right about the date being important something may happen today.”

James placed the album back in it’s usual spot on the table in front of the window. After Scott had left for the office he sat in the chair studying the pictures once more. After a while he laid his back and closed his eyes.

The darker one was angry. The smooth one just sat in the chair, tears running down his cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell you slept with her also? In fact, why did you sleep with her? “ He was pacing the floor in front of the chair, his fists were balled tight. “Were you trying to hurt me that much?”

The smooth one wiped his eyes and watched his partner pace the room. “I wanted to see why you would want her over me. The only way I could get through it was to imagine that you had been inside of her just before me.”

“You’re pathetic, James. Do you know she is not sure if it my child or yours? She is going to go away until after it is born.”

“William, don’t you see it better this way? She will no longer come between us. It will be just you and I, we can be happy together again. Come let me hold you and show you everything will be all right.”

The dark one stopped pacing and stood in the middle of the floor shaking his head back and forth. “No, James, it isn’t better. You meddled in my life where you shouldn’t have. It can never be just you and I again. This cloud will always hang over us.” He walked briskly to the door and was out of it before James could say any more. The smooth one put his hands in front of his face but the tears ran through his fingers.

James woke, his face wet from his tears. He felt drained, the emotion between the two men in the dream had sapped his own body of it’s strength. He walked up the stairs and lay on the bed. Soon he was back to sleep.

The smooth one was sitting in the chair, a smile on his face. Beside the lamp was a vase of flowers. The smooth one leaned over the table and inhaled the aroma of the flowers. The darker one approached from behind, wrapped his arms around his partner from the back and kissed his neck. The smooth one turned into him and they kissed deeply. When the kiss broke the dark one said “You are right my love, it will be just the two of us.” They walked to the stairs, their arms around the others’ waist.

James stayed asleep after the dream finished, waking when he heard Scott come home. During dinner he told Scott of the two new short dreams and then they put the album back in the attic. For six months there were no more dreams and the album had almost been forgotten.

It was James’ birthday. They had gone out to dinner to celebrate and had made love after returning home. James fell asleep afterwards, his head on Scott’s chest, the curly hair tickling his ear as he drifted off.

They were standing in the middle of the front sitting room, their arms loosely around the other. “It was a boy. She held it for a short while then the nurse took him away. I guess the new parents were waiting.”

“Did she say what he looked like, or maybe who?”

The darker one looked down towards the floor. “He was blond.”

“That doesn’t mean anything, I had dark hair when I was a baby. I’ve never seen pictures but my Mother always told me that.”

He kissed the smooth one’s cheek “It doesn’t matter, my love, she made the decision and we are left with just the two of us.”

James got out of bed and softly walked downstairs. The album lay on the table. He got the magnifying glass and studied the smooth one. He then studied his own face in the mirror. It has to be what the smooth one is trying to tell him. But how will he find out for sure? His adoptive parents have been dead for several years and his records were sealed.

He reread the note. He studied each of the photographs in the series. They appeared to be taken about a year apart. The aging process didn’t show from picture to picture but when he skipped from the first to the last it was very apparent. He took the album back upstairs and replaced it in the trunk. He then curled around Scott and fell back to sleep.

For three more years the only dreams he had were on his birthday. He had even tried sitting in the chair holding the album at other times but nothing.

His sixtieth birthday was approaching. Scott wanted to know what he wanted and when he explained it to him he said he would try. Today was the hearing. Scott had told him to stay home. He sat in the chair watching out of the window. Then Scott called and was on his way home.

The door opened and he rushed into Scott’s arms. The kiss was short but it was passionate. He looked deep into Scott’s eyes. Scott held the paper but James didn’t take it, his eyes stayed fastened onto Scott’s. Finally Scott hugged him tightly.

“James Morrow was your father.”

the End


I'm glad so many of you appreciated this attempt at something different. Thank you for following this story. I hope you weren't disappointed with the ending.

Wally
 
I have a question: where does the marriage fit in?
 
No disappointment here. I really liked the story. Whether anyone wants to believe it or not, I think something like that could very well occur. There are many strange things out there that we do not understand. Thanks, Wally, for a very enjoyable read.

Craiger
 
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