"Blair-" I hesitated. "Is everything okay with you and your dad?"

"Later. I'll tell you all that later, okay? But right now, let me show you the rest of the house."

The other side of the house was where the spare bedrooms were-Blair's room was almost as big as the master bedroom, with its own bathroom. As opposed to the rest of the house, Blair's room was filled with photos and prints of Nicole Blair. There wasn't a single picture of his father. And on the mantel of the fireplace stood an Oscar. "Is that your mother's Oscar?"

"Yeah. She gave it to me." Blair walked over and picked it up. "She doesn't care about things like that. Unlike Dad, she's really humble. She does it because she loves the work, not for awards or to be a star. I think that was why their marriage didn't work out-she couldn't stand the whole Hollywood movie star trip Dad's on." He laughed. "But enough about me and my neurotic parents." He jumped on the bed. "Sit down here and tell me all about your Christmas."

I got up on the bed with him and he cuddled into me. I started stroking his hair while I told him about Christmas with my parents. Something's bothering him, I don't know what, buthe's different, something's happened or changed since he left Polk.

"That sounds nice," Blair said. "Look, I'm sorry, I know I've been acting like I'm crazy ever since you've got here. I've just never had a Christmas like a normal person, you know? This time of year it gets to me, is all. I'm usually okay with things, but at Christmas it bothers me."

Once he started talking, the story started pouring out of him. His parents had gotten divorced when he was barely two years old. One of the conditions of the divorce was that his mother couldn't take him to England-she had to stay in the United States, or she'd lose custody. When she got an offer to make a movie over there, she'd left him with his father and gone. During the making of the movie, she'd fallen in love with and married her costar-his stepfather, Ian Westcombe. Ian had no interest in living in California. "So, she chose her new husband over me," Blair said bitterly. "Don't get me wrong, I go over there a couple of times a year, and she comes over here to see me-but it still hurts sometimes, you know? And Dad-Dad is too busy being Steve Blanchard to really care about me very much. He somehow always managed to be out of the country filming or promoting a movie or something at Christmas. I actually see my mom more than I see him-and I live with him."

"That's terrible." I was appalled. I couldn't imagine not spending Christmas with my parents.

"Every year, I stupidly think things are going to be different, but they never are." He went on. "It's horrible to be alone at Christmas, you know? And everything on television is about families and the Christmas spirit. It just makes me want to slit my wrists." He sighed, "It gets to me, and I shouldn't let it, you know? That's why I called you, wanted you to come down. I hate being needy. You must think I'm the biggest dork ever."

That made me laugh. "Oh, Blair, you may be many things, but a dork? Hardly."

"Thanks for coming down," he said in a small voice.

I kissed the top of his head. "I love you, Blair. And thanks for telling me about it. You know you can tell me anything."

"I love you, Jeff." He kissed me. "You have no idea how glad I am you were daydreaming in class that day, and I decided to talk to you. You looked so cute that day. It was all I could do not to suck your dick right then and there."

"That would have been fun. You should have!"

We lay there while the sun went down, without talking, just holding each other. Around seven, though, Blair said, "We need to get in the shower. Blanca's expecting us at eight."

"Bianca?"

"I told you-Bianca del Marco has the house next doorthe auteur of gay porn? She's invited us over for cocktails at eight. And we can't be late."

The shower in Blair's bathroom was amazing. The stall was large enough for about five people to fit in comfortably, and there were three nozzles, so the hot streams of water came at you from three sides. We washed each other, soaping each other up and kissing from time to time. I knew every inch of Blair's body intimately by this point-after all, there wasn't a place on his body I'd never placed my mouth-but I never got tired of touching him. Both of us got hard while we were showering, but when I started to play with his cock, he just laughed and pushed me away. "Not now, we don't have time. But I do want you to fuck me in this shower while you're here." He grinned at me. "Ever since I got here, I'd come in here and beat off, pretending you were fucking me under the water. I think it would be so much hotter in here than in the showers back at the house, don't you think?"

"Hell yeah," I said, stepping under the water to wash the soap off my body.

"You done?" Blair asked, and when I nodded, he turned the water off. We toweled each other off, and got dressed.

At promptly eight o'clock we rang the doorbell of the house next door. The door opened, and my jaw dropped. An incredibly beautiful man wearing nothing more than a gold lame thong stood there, a big smile on his face. "Welcome to Casa del Marco," he said, kissing both of us on the cheek. "My name is Cody, and I'm here to serve you." His hair was buzzed in a military style, and one of those tribal-style tattoos circled his gigantic right bicep. His abs stood out like they'd been carved out of marble. Veins protruded from his huge muscles. And the front of the thong looked like he had-I gulped. His cock looked enormous.

Surely that couldn't be real?

Blair put his right hand directly in the center of Cody's chest, tracing down his torso with his index finger, stopping just above the top of the thong. "I'm Blair, and this is my boyfriend, Jeff."

"My pleasure," Cody replied. "Come in and join the party." He stood aside to let us pass, and it was all I could do to stop looking at him. We walked into the living room, and I couldn't take it all in. The room was crowded with beautiful young men, the music was playing loudly, and there were several other men, just as gorgeous as Cody, walking around serving drinks in the exact same thong. In a huge thronelike chair sat a huge woman who must have weighed at least three hundred pounds. She was wearing a purple dress, and her white-blond hair was teased into a gigantic bouffant that rose at least nine inches above her scalp. Her makeup was thick on her round face, and an Adam's apple showed prominently on her throat. Diamonds flashed on her fingers and dangled from her ears.

"Bianca darling!" Blair said, leaning down and kissing her large cheek. "Don't get up, dear. Thanks for the invitation."

"My pleasure." Her voice was deep and mannish. I realized with a start that Bianca was a man, I tried not to stare as she went on, "When are you going to stop being so prudish and be in one of my films?"

"Now, Bianca, you know I want to be a mainstream actor," Blair replied with a big grin, "and wonderful as your films are, it wouldn't do me any good."

"Stuff and nonsense," she replied, turning her gaze to me. A smile played over her lips, and one of her plucked eyebrows went up. "And who is this rather large and handsome boy?"

"Jeff Morgan," I said, leaning down so I wouldn't have to shout over the loud music and offering her my hand. "Blair's boyfriend."