The premiere event last night was a success. It was a nerve wracking evening, with the Princess of Wales right next to me, but it went well. There was another day of promotional events in the UK, but today was our day off in between promotional events.
I was taking some time for myself in my suite when I heard the buzzer ring. It was Chris, who had a bottle of some champagne in his hand.
“Come on in, Chris!” I warmly greet him.
“This is to celebrate the phenomenal success of our work,” he tells me, handing me the bottle.
“Thanks,” I say, while hugging him.
I place the bottle on the table next to the bed.
We sit at the table near the window, which overlooked a gorgeous nightscape.
“I’m always a bit embarrassed to watch whatever I’ve filmed,” I confess.
“Some people are like that. That’s all right,” he gently shrugs.
“I have to sometimes pinch myself to see if I’m not dreaming,” I tell him.
“You mean the project or us, Michael?” Chris asks.
“Both,” I answer.
"How about we open this and have a toast," I suggest.
I went over to the cabinet and got some glasses.
Chris then opened the bottle and poured the shimmering and sparkling liquid into our glasses.
"Here's to you," he said, as we clink our glasses.
We sat on the edge of the bed with the table in front of us, while talking about ourselves and sharing smiles and laughter. He’s usually rather quiet, but he opens up when he’s around me. As the champagne releases our inhibitions, I end up staring at him for a longer time than I usually do.
“Michael, if you keep looking at me like that, I might just not know what to do with myself,” Chris said slowly.
"Hm?" I glanced at him, feigning innocence.
"You know what I mean?" he quietly said.
Beneath the quiet and gentlemanly exterior I could see the passion in his eyes. It was clear he wanted me. Maybe now was the time to seize that chance.
Before I could think anymore, he nuzzles my chin with his finger, slowly working his way to my lips.
“Oh, what the hell,” he says, lifting his finger and then pressing his lips onto mine.
I manage to press my tongue against his, practically forcing the kiss to become a French kiss. Surprisingly, he didn’t flinch or stop. My tongue continues to caress his tongue, and I can feel myself getting pretty turned on by it. Our eyes open and our lips part, and I see Chris with a stunned expression on his face.
“I’ve never...kissed with tongues before,” he tells me.
“How was it?” I ask.
“It feels like I’m slowly burning up…,but not because of the alcohol,” he says.
He leans into me again and kisses me, but this time, he’s the one pressing his tongue onto mine. He’s not the only one slowly burning up in pleasure and desire.
We tumble onto the bed, as our lips part again.
His hands start undoing my shirt, undressing the top half of my body. After looking mesmerized at me, he plants featherlight kisses all over my ears, neck, and upper body.
Soft, sweet moans escape my mouth.
His kisses are tender, warm, and loving. Meanwhile, the hardness down there was straining in my pants.
"It's unbelievable how you're making me feel," he says, finally reaching down and undressing my bottom half.
"Go on, Chris. You know you want to,” I tell him.
He cautiously wraps his fingers around it, and moves his hand up and down.
Ironically, this sensual pace is a turn-on. It's so different from a hurried jerk-off session.
It was like I was smouldering.
"That feels so good, Chris," I pant.
''Does it?" he asks.
"Mm hm," I say.
He continues to rub and tug it, making my mind go crazy.
"Stop," I tell him.
He stops, looking mildly startled.
"Can you kiss me all over again?" I ask, my voice sounding needy as ever.
"Yeah," he says, as he starts from my earlobes, onto my neck.
My breathing is hot and intense, and all I can see is him. He's caressing my naked body and savoring it. I look at his lower body; I'm impressed with how he is so focused on pleasuring me, despite his own burning desire.
His caresses and kisses reach near my stomach and thighs.
"Chris, kiss me down there," I tell him.
Just when his lips touch the tip, I tell him to suck on it, which he does.
“More...please...fuck, that’s heavy…,” I say.
I don’t know how much more I can take. He continues to stimulate me, until I climax.
He looks at me a little overwhelmed, and I immediately know why.
“Just swallow it, Chris,” I tell him.
“Can you...you know?” he asks.
He’s sitting on the bed now, with his legs stretched out.
I straddle his hips, tightly hug him, and kiss him again...my tongue rubbing against his, wanting more of him.
He takes off his shirt, while I get off of him and take off the rest of what he was wearing. Then, I take in his hardness into my mouth. He gave me what I was fantasizing about, and now it was my turn to do the same.
“Oh my God, that feels incredible,” he moans.
By the time I take it out of my mouth, I notice that I’ve become hard again.
I then position myself on him, with my hips on top of his, and my legs hugging his back.
We rub against each other, and I also start licking his ears with my tongue.
I can feel his hands rubbing against my back and hips, not wanting to let go of me and this pleasure.
“You’re just so irresistible, Michael...you don’t know how much I’ve wanted you,” he whispers in that husky voice of his.
“You like it?” I ask.
“Yeah. You’re the only one who can make me feel like this and do all this,” he says.
My hands reach down to touch his hardness again, and I rub my hand up and down the shaft.
“Do you ever fantasize about me?”
“Yes...,” he manages to say in between heavy breathing.
“Do you fantasize about me?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I answer.
I continue to thrust my hips while sitting on top of him, and I end up climaxing again.
“I’m getting close, Michael..,” he says.
I change positions and my mouth engulfs him again, hitting a particularly sensitive spot. I want him to release it in me; and from his reactions, I can tell he feels the same.
He then passionately comes inside my mouth.
We take a while to calm down...still feeling hot from what we just did.
As we lie on the bed I glance at the clock...it’s already 12:04, and we have to wake up at 6 for one more promotional event.
“Can I just stay here with you?” he asks.
I nod. I didn’t want the night to become dawn, but then again if we didn’t get any sleep, we’d be screwed.
“Sweet dreams,” he says, draping his arm around me, as if to touch whatever that was lingering.
When I got up, it was already 6:15. We were already 15 minutes behind schedule.
“Chris, wake up! It’s 6:15,” I tell him.
He wakes up, and I let him use the shower first. We needed to hurry up, or else we’d be late.
I hear a knock on the door and I open it, trying to act as normal as possible.
It’s my manager.
“You’re awake, right?”
“Yeah,” I reply.
“Oh, and I knocked on Chris’ door, but he didn’t answer. Is he still asleep…?”
“No...no...we were just drinking together last night here,” I say.
“Ah...a guy’s drinking night. Anyway, just make sure both of you aren’t late.”
I shut the door in relief.
Shortly after that, he comes out of the shower.
“Everything OK?” he asks me.
“Yeah. Don’t worry,” I tell him.
“I really enjoyed it last night,” he tells me.
“I did too,” I say.
We had just finished a reunion event the previous day, and Chris went with me to the airport to send me off. We were alone on the private VIP lounge’s sofa, enjoying some time together before I had to go.
“This room’s decor reminds me of that one night in London we spent in your room,” Chris muses.
“Come to think of it, it kind of does,” I reply.
“It was a night I’ve never forgotten. You taught me how to French kiss, for one thing,” he tells me.
The memories come flooding back. There’ve been similar nights like that, but that night was a particularly special one.
“I didn’t exactly teach you,” I laugh.
I glance at my watch.
“I gotta go soon,” I say.
I tightly embrace him. Email, text messaging, and social media might have made it easier to keep in touch, but I still crave him in person.
We then end up staring at each other, and I can see so much love, affection, and desire in his eyes.
“Come on, you know you want to,” I coyly say.
He leans in again and kisses me, slowly and sensually caressing my tongue with his tongue.
It lasts for a while---the kiss feels warm and like honey---and I don’t want it to end.
But my time approaches, so we have to part.
“Have a safe trip home, Michael. I love you,” he warmly tells me.
“I love you too. Next time, OK?” I reassure him.