Olaf “Gunn” Gunnunderson (Keith Jordan) is a 22-year-old gay college student who is totally out on campus and yet remains closeted to his quirky parents. So much so that on the way home for the Christmas holiday, he stops at a public restroom to “de-gay” himself.

Originally from the Midwest, Gunn’s father (Derek Long) is now a Southern California College professor and a heavy pot smoker who appears to have killed a few brain cells over the years.

The character of the Wisconsin mother Anya Gunnunderson, played by Kelly Keaton, provides most of the spirit and humor to the film with her ever-bubbly “don’tcha know” accent that reminded me of the St. Olaf tales that The Golden Girls’ Rose used to tell.

EUROPEAN GAY CHRISTMAS
written by CATHAL McCEALLACHAN for Christmas.TyRain.com
November 5, 2000

CONCLUSION
The story of Christian and Savvas

“Please come in,” I said, catching the mood. I closed the door and started walking away.

“Wait pretty Boy!” He pointed to mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. I turned and was quickly enfolded by his strong arms. He then walked into the salon, looking all around the room. “You have a wonderful place,” he said. He walked to the music center, picked up a CD and placed it in the Machine. The sounds of the Cantique de Noël of Adam filled the room.

“You remembered,” I said softly.

“I remember everything where you are concerned my love,” he answered. Smiling mischievously, he asked, “Did you remember to bring the doughnut?” I told him no, but that I had remembered the eclair, winking at him.

“Come here sexy boy… I want to take off your clothes,” he said in that husky voice that I had come to adore.

“Please, Savvas can we not just keep our clothes on?” I almost begged.

“Why? Have you become shy all of a sudden?” He walked towards me, undid his pants and let them fall to the floor. “Do you like what you see?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

I grabbed his underpants and pulled them down in a single movement. I knelt before him to take the half-erect cock between my lips. “Not so fast pretty boy. Give a man a chance,” he said.

He pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it aside. Then my pants, jockey, shoes and socks followed. I took off his shirt and we stood looking at one another’s naked bodies. He sat down on one of the blue chairs, spread his legs and beckoned me to come and sit on his lap. His love muscle was hard as a rock. When I came near the chair I turned around, his hands came up and cupped my naked buns. His one finger started feeling my ass and I nearly shot my load. He caressed my body with his other hand, gathered some of the pre-cum from my throbbing cock, and smeared it on my hole. His finger slipped in. My body was on fire. He slowly lifted me higher until I felt that lovely juicy pole at my back door. I sat down slowly and allowed it to slip into my waiting body. When I felt his pubic hair against my ass, I could not help giving a sigh of delight.

We were both shaking with lust when the large clock in the hall started chiming midnight. The telephone started ringing. We got up together and walked to answer the call. He held me tight and picked up the handset.

“Hi! This is Savvas. Oh! Thanks Tineke for calling,” he said, holding me even tighter. “Yes! Yes! We are enjoying ourselves. Merry Christmas to you also!”

He held the phone to me. I blushed and stammered a few words. He was playing with my cock and nibbling at my ear. Then Anton was on the line saying, “What are you doing?”

I told him, “nothing in particular,” and Anton laughed.

“Why are you so out of breath? Is that hairy Greek giving you something, big brother?”

Trying to keep my composure, I said “Don’t be rude little brother!” He laughed again.

“Oh! Come on, Chris! Admit that you are on the point of cumming.” He wished us a Merry Christmas and disconnected. At that moment the volcano erupted – glob after glob of cum spurted. As Savvas reached his climax he withdrew from me, turned me around, and held me close to his shaking body as his love juice cemented us together. We fell to the floor, kissing and hugging.

We shared our memories of that warm, sultry, starlit night of two years ago in Africa. I got up, walked to the tree, and brought back the bottle of Hugo perfume with the three sprigs of lavender. He looked up at me, smiled, and took the bottle. Two tears formed in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. It was the first time I ever had seen him cry.

“You are so special. You make me so happy. That is why I love you”, he said while brushing away the tears.

He got up and fetched a small velvet box from under the tree. Inside was a beautiful gold and silver ring. He took it from the box, took my right hand, and placed the ring on my fourth finger. This was the European custom for an engagement. On the Wedding day, the ring is moved to the left hand.

“Next year, we will move it to the other hand,” he lovingly said.

We could hear bells tolling in the distance. Outside the snow fell softly. It was a perfect Christmas.

We decided to clean ourselves up a little and go for a ride, mounted separately. Chris handled Gus expertly, even bare back, bare assed and barefoot. I switched over to my mare Katie. It was a wonderful and carefree morning romp. Rarely have I ever spent such an altogether marvelous morning, exploring my entire domain and showing off to an appreciative viewer every one of its scenic, pastoral treasures.

“Do you think we could fuck on horseback?” Chris asked. I laughed hard at the abruptness and absurdity of the suggestion.

“You can fuck me anywhere,” I answered, “or at least try. I can’t think what we’ll tell them at the emergency room if it doesn’t work, though.”

Of course, there was the problem of lubrication. I was still pretty juicy on the inside from the morning, but needed more for entering my asshole. We rode back to the stable, where we unsaddled Katie and found the Vaseline I keep there for the horses. Chris slathered us up with it very thoroughly, stem and stern, and we hopped onto poor Gus again, setting off at a slow walk.

“You’re going to have to stimulate yourself this time, I can do nothing for you,” I said lightly. “Looking at your broad shoulders and feeling my cock against your ass does something for me,” was his response. “Also feeling you up.” He laughed as his hands reached around and began to fondle my crotch, at the same time massaging his own cock against my backside by rotating his hips against me. My dick had become his handle for holding himself on Gus behind me. I felt his dick inflating with each bump and grind. Finally, he said, “OK, let’s go for it,” his hands sliding out to my thighs. I partially stood in the leather stirrups, lifting my ass off the saddle while continuing to grip Gus’s withers with my knees. I felt the head of his cock pressing at my sphincter; then with a quick pang of pain it plunged in. I sat back down on it as Chris scooted up as tight to my butt as he could get, his thighs parallel to mine, and his arms holding me around my waist.

We tried several of Gus’s gaits. Most were comical, sometimes painful attempts. The only one that worked somewhat was the rack (Gus is five-gaited), a rocking walk similar to that of Tennessee Walking Horses. In the rack, we moved along pretty swiftly, and I was able to slide up and down on his hard shaft fairly smoothly in the rhythm of the gait without much effort on my part. Chris just held on and got pumped. He claimed it felt really good, but mostly I think it was the exhilaration of doing something so kinky out of doors. Ejaculation-wise, it was a failure (he couldn’t get off), but nevertheless, we had fun, which was more important. My horse and my ass both got good workouts that day.

In the center of the pasture, there was a large cube formed of hay bales, fully cured for winter use. We stopped there this time, and I pulled out the center square to leave a sort of room with four-foot high walls around it. I opened one bale and scattered it on the bottom, and in we climbed for some afternoon lovemaking.

Now it was my turn to fuck Chris, and I was more than primed for it. We made out a little in our den of hay, but very soon I rolled my partner over and began to massage his back from a position kneeling between his legs. I savored the feel of my strong fingers sliding along his strong back muscles and down to his delectable bubble butt. Before long I was grinding my hard cock on his crack while I continued to rub his shoulders and back. He spread his legs even further, invitingly. My cock head moved closer and closer to his asshole as it rubbed, pulling at his slick sphincter. Finally, I changed my angle a little, and in it went with a satisfying pop. I lay on top of his back full length and pumped away at him with eagerness and abandon. He moaned with that combination of pain and pleasure that is the essence of ass-fucking. I am even longer in the cock than he is (about the same thickness), and I had the optimum angle for a good, deep fucking, and I gave it to him pretty heavy before finally injecting him with a nice basting of heavy sperm-butter. Afterwards, I lay on top of him for a few minutes, enjoying the winter sun on my full length while my cock was buried to the hilt in this gorgeous creature.

We stayed in our little haven for an hour or so, sunning in one another’s arms. We finally emerged, tired, sore, and hungry. We returned to the house for a shower (together of course, how delightful) and a lunch of sandwiches and beer. It took all afternoon to share our life stories, but we were eager to tell them.

It had become obvious by now that Chris would stay past cocktails and dinner, and that our dessert, though it might involve whipped cream, would be otherwise low calorie. The way it turned out, though, he stayed the remainder of Christmas Eve, all of Christmas Day – so far for the rest of our lives.

He kept his apartment in town, where he worked long hours at the firm but left by noon on Friday to be with me for the weekends. Often I would go into town on Tuesday night and stay until Thursday morning so that we could at least sleep together a couple of weeknights, too. Then we decided to make the arrangement permanent.

Chris was offered a partnership, but he turned it down. We are now in the process of starting our own firm, the two of us working together with clients in legal and financial aspects of estate building and planning. Office and apartment in the city, home office and playground in the country.

EUROPEAN GAY CHRISTMAS
written by CATHAL McCEALLACHAN for Christmas.TyRain.com
November 5, 2000

PART SIX
The story of Christian and Savvas continues

After lunch, we both got spruced up for the outing and when Hans and his wife Nelleke arrived, we departed. After a light meal at a Chinese Restaurant, we arrived at the Theatre. I walked up to the ticket desk, and mentioned that tickets had been arranged. We were surprised when an usher escorted us to the first row. As we sat down, Savvas nudged my arm. He pointed to Tineke with Anton and the other two ‘brothers’, Alexander and Philip.

“What’s going on?” I whispered. He mumbled a response and looked the other way.

Before I could think further the Conductor appeared and the audience started clapping. The lights did not dim as usual – the conductor lifted his baton and the introduction to the National Anthem filled the House. The audience rose to their feet, for there was the Princess Margot and two of her sons, with their partners, standing in the Royal Box. After the Anthem ended and the clapping died, the audience settled down, the lights dimmed, and the orchestra started playing the very familiar overture to the Nutcracker Ballet by Tchaikovsky.

When the final curtain fell, the Director reappeared and asked the audience to remain seated. The curtain rose again and the full company was gathered on the stage. The Ballet Master walked slowly, purposefully, and proudly to the front of the stage.

With a bad microphone creating an strange echo, he said “Your Highness, Ladies and Gentlemen – sorry to keep you, but we have a very special guest in the House tonight. The Corps de Ballet and the Management of the Company have decided to award him for his contribution to the quality of dancing here and for the great work he is doing in Africa to promote classical dance. I now present to you Christian de Coninck. Chris will you please come on stage with us?”

At that moment, my whole body went numb. I could feel the cold sweat running down my back. Savvas pressed my arm. He whispered to me to go. I somehow got to my feet and two ballerinas rushed down to assist me. In a trance, we managed to get on stage whilst the House’s ovation was thunderous. Then I saw the Princess walking towards me. I bowed. She smiled warmly and handed me the small velvet covered box in which the special award coin was kept. She raised her hand, and there was immediate silence in the huge theatre.

“Chris,” she said, “you make us very proud. We all say thank you for serving your adopted country so well. For all you are doing in Africa, we applaud you. May your life be happy and full of Joy!”

Then, to my amazement, the orchestra struck up the South African National Anthem. All I could say was thank you very much and that I would like to have my ‘family’ on stage also. The next moment they were all there, Tineke, Anton, Alexander, Philip, and Savvas.

Anton hugged me and whispered, “I love you big brother.”

Savvas gave me a bear hug and a kiss on each cheek Greek-style. “You are great, my pretty Boy,” he said.