Patric's Story

A Jaxton Family miniseries.

(Here's a little back-in-the-day story focussing more on Feline Jaxton's brother Pat and their parents lives that take place before the events of My Brother's Best Friend. I hope you all enjoy!)

Part 1: Moving to a new town.

"PATRICK! WHERE'S YOUR SISTER?!" a deep man's voice startles the young boy. It's angry, and it's his father's, Charles "Chuck" Jaxton.

"I..." the 6-year-old (well, six and three-quarters is what he would brag) turns and looks behind him. "Dad! She was right here! I swear!"

Chuck Jaxton storms over and takes his young son's shoulder, worry furrowing his brow. "Where did you see her last?"

"I HEERE DADA!" an adorable, raven haired toddler peaks her head from behind the Budget moving truck and giggles, tossing a riot of black spiral locks all around her.

"Honey, don't do that to your brother! Come over here, please." Chuck sighs, shaking his head at his youngest child, turning to his son. "You gotta pay more attention, Pat. She's the only sister you get to have. She adores you. Look at her. She thinks you bring the sun."

Little Patrick turns, brushing a stray auburn curl out of his face. There's his annoying little sister, staring up at him with a look that makes him roll his eyes. Those gigantic cornflower blue peepers, the same as his, the same as their father's, filled with adoration.

"Ugh. Dad! Why can't Mom be here!" Patrick whines, resigning himself to the task of looking after his baby sister, taking her hand and holding it tight.

"I told you Mom's getting us dinner and groceries. I can't do all this by myself, Pat! I need your help, son. How about you take Feline and go check out the backyard. Let me unload our stuff from the apartment without tripping all over her. Pool guy comes tomorrow. You excited about that?" Chuck nods towards the front double doors of a house that Patrick had been in a hundred times.

"C'mon, Cat." Patrick tugs on his sisters' hand, and she follows him into a house she doesn't remember.

"New hou' Pad? New hou'?" Feline asks in awe as Patrick steps her into the sprawling, split-level, contemporary rancher.

"Ya Cat. New home. Blah Bl..." Pat stops himself as his little sister tugs on her big brother's shirt.

"Pat mad me?" little Feline looks up at her big brother with the saddest eyes. "I sowwy Paddy. I sowwy."

Patrick immediately feels guilty over how he had been treating the little girl before him. She was just tiny and still in diapers, after all.

"I'm not mad at you, Cat." Patrick bends down and hugs his sister. Her squeal of delight as he embraces her makes him feel better about the situation. "I'm sorry. Big brother is a scary bear today!" Patrick shapes his hands like claws and the toddler takes off through the living room squealing and giggling, her brother hot on her heels, baring his teeth and laughing.

Feline rounds a large corner and almost runs into a lovely, carved, white oak 12-person table and chairs sitting in the center of the room, before her brother grabs her, stopping the accident from happening.

The dining table is impressive furniture. A set that would never fit in their little 2 bedroom 1 bath 848 square foot apartment in Baldwin Hills, L.A.

There's a no less impressive set of French doors leading out onto an expansive cedar wood deck.

Pat follows his sister now as she slows down and inspects the new surroundings.

After the dining room, the next room is the incredible kitchen. Gleaming white quartz counter tops. A gigantic 21-foot island in the center topped in the same gleaming slab of stone. Stainless steel appliances adorn the space.

Off to the side, in a bay window, is a breakfast nook and surrounding the large island, 6 high stools. There's a back door leading to the yard and the pool. And Patrick knows there is a 70 something step staircase leading down to the beach and ultimately, the ocean as well.

Pat takes his sisters' hand and tries the door. It's open and they step outside.

The backyard is large. Exceptionally so. Which is great for Pat and his sister because the frontage is nothing but a big, paved, roundabout driveway and nothing else.

Directly in front of them is an empty pool. Large. Very large. Probably 50 feet in length. With an equally impressive pool deck, wrapping around the entire thing. And then behind the pool is a small but magnificent carriage house that Patrick knew was off limits.

Beside the pool is a huge grassy area to play, complete with 2 large palm trees off to the side, a tire swing hanging from one of them and a large quarry garden behind that.

"C'mon Cat!" Pat grasps his sister's hand, and together they run over to the lawn to play.

"Pad! Is Grass! Is real?" Feline asks her brother, picking a handful of lush, green lawn to show him.

"Real grass Baby Bear!" Pat jumps up and down, Feline copying him.

Together they race all over the backyard and Pat even pushes Feline on the tire swing before their Mother arrives with Kentucky Fried Chicken and calls the children in for dinner.

***********************************************************

"You finally got them down?" Kristine is laying in bed, a disarray of boxes all around the room, clothing strewn about.

"God, I hope so." Chuck rakes a hand through his thick, dark auburn hair. It was finally starting to grow out again, after he shaved it off 8 months ago, in solidarity with a cancer fundraiser. 98 long dreadlocks, gone. Just like that.

"Feline's never been any other place, in her mind." Kristine calls from the bed as her husband enters the large en suite adjacent to the room.

"Mmm Hmm." Chuck reenters the bedroom, brushing his teeth. "Poor lil thing." he mumbles around his toothbrush. "I can't remember the box I put her shark in."

"My poor Baby Bear! I was wondering what the problem was! Why wasn't it with her diaper bag? Really, Charles. You know, that thing is her lifeline. Is Patrick with her?" Kristine sighs, about ready to go check on them.

"No, Honey, wait! Give them a bit. You're too soft, you'll have them both in here with us tonight! Then we'll never sleep alone again." Chuck laughs, and goes to spit. "And yes," he reemerges from the bathroom, completely naked, tan and handsome. "Pat's with her."

Chuck jumps in and slides into the sheets with his wife, tickling her.

"You've got to find Bruce tomorrow!" she breathes, as he releases her.

"Ya Honey. You betcha." Chuck grins, kissing Kristine's shoulder.

"Chuck. Promise me you'll make the damned, stuffed shark a priority. It's 1 in the morning. The kids are going to be all messed up and cranky tomorrow. I don't want a redux tomorrow night!"

Charles sits up and gazes into his wife's eyes tenderly. She rarely curses, well, unless he's pleasuring her. Then his wife has the mouth of a sailor!

"Promise. First thing. Even before coffee." Charles whispers, leaning in to kiss his beautiful wife's neck.

"Let's not go that far." Kristine whispers back as they share a laugh.

"We've never had a king-size bed before." Chuck says softly.

"Your sister never used this room." Kristine states. "Why?"

"She preferred the carriage house. She reserved all the rooms in the house for her guests. She was never alone. Right up to the end. She had a steady flow of friends. Colleagues. They all loved her, Kris." Chuck Jaxton's voice starts to crack. "She just...she had a weird schedule, you know. Up all hours. Making noise. Working on articles, lining up gigs, photo editing images. She had all those musicians come over...She loved music...fuck Kris!"

"Honey." Kristine gently kisses her husband's lips. "You loved her. You did everything you could."

"I couldn't save her." Chuck sighs in his wife's loving arms.

"No one could save her baby. It was just too advanced." Kristine laces her fingers with her husband's. Large hands, scarred from working various mechanics jobs over the years.

"Fucking cancer!" Chuck nearly shouts.

Husband and wife are quiet for some time.

"Patrick hates me too." Chuck grits out, breaking the silence first.

"Honey, he doesn't hate you." Kristine coos, smoothing her husbands' hair as he lays his head on her lap.

"He fucking hates me." Chuck groans. "I took him from his whole life."

"Chuck, I hate it when you get like this." Kristine gently chides, making her husband groan. "You're way overthinking this. You made the best decision for our family. I love you, I loved your sister, and I always loved it here in Cayucos. Patrick will too. He'll make new friends. School starts in three weeks. You'll see. He'll love it here. Just you watch."

"Ya, but what if he doesn't make friends? What if I fucked up his whole life by moving here? What if I changed the course or the direction of his entire future?! Will he even be able to get on the gymnastics team? I'm not sure if..." words tumble out of Chuck's mouth.

"Babe...you gotta chill out." Kristine interrupts her husband, "He's a child. They bounce back. Patrick loves you. He's just upset right now. That's all."

"He hates me." Chuck groans again.

"O lawd. Come down off that cross and kiss me. Jesus, Chuck." Kristine rolls her eyes and then shakes her head. Charles obliges her and she melts in his embrace.

"Christen the new bed?" Chuck whispers against his wife's lips.

"I thought you were going to agonize about our son all night." Kristine whispers back. "I want to be on top!"

"Hell woman, take control, you know I like that." Chuck winks at his wife and gently cups one of her breasts, pulling her down into the bed and rolling, taking her with him.

Kristine gasps as her husband rolls her onto his chest without missing a beat with her right nipple. He's so strong and sexy. She wanted him the moment she laid eyes on him...

The year was 1996. August 2nd to be exact. And Kristine Savvidis was having the time of her life. She was at Spartan Stadium in San Jose, California. The event was Lollapalooza and Soundgarden was about to come on stage. The weather was excellent, and so was the drink she was sipping. As Kristine was excitedly looking around the crowd, she locked eyes with a sexy red head. Well, his hair was more auburn than anything, and it was dreadlocked to boot! Her weakness.

Dreadlock Boy, as we'll call him, was tall. Probably 6'2". And lean. With a sinewy musculature that made her gasp. He had a trim waist with rounded shoulders and arms carved from stone, threaded with proud, protruding veins. The faded Alice n Chains t shirt he was wearing was tight and outlined his outstanding shape. And he was tan. So tan.

Dreadlock Boy smiles right at Kristine, and it's then she notices how ruggedly handsome he is:

Two day stubble frames a strong jaw and slightly cleft chin, the shade of which, even deeper than his lovely dark copper dreadlocks which fell just past his shoulders. There were probably 100 of them. They didn't look like shit, either. This guy looked after his. They looked tidy and well-groomed. His eyes are an incredible color of blue. Very deep. Almost an eerie violet shade. Like cornflower blossoms. Those eyes against his tan are hypnotic. He's older than she is. For sure. But then, she was only 19, and he looks to be mid 20s. He has a killer smile.

Suddenly, a cute, blue-haired, petite goth girl carrying two large cameras, bigger than her, attached to a leather harness on her torso, runs up to Dreadlock Boy and throws her arms around him. Breaking the moment between him and Kristine. He spins her around and plants her on her feet before he turns, looking for the devastating, black haired, beauty in the short, tight, black skater dress with a tiny, white t shirt tucked into it. Before she got sucked into the crowd. Before she was lost forever. Why was his heart beating so fast?

"Hay! Chuckington! What gives? Looking for someone?" the goth girl lightly kicks Dreadlock Boys' shin with a hard rubber toed, knee-high, black, platform boot. The brand is called SWEAR, and they add at least 3 inches to the 5'2" petite beauty, dressed completely in black.

"Ya! Actually! There's a tall girl. Pale like you. She's wearing her hair in those ponytail things..."

"Space buns. Yup." goth girl nods. "I see her. THERE!" she points off the side. "Ten O'clock."

"Thanks sis. Be right back." Dreadlock Boy bounds off towards the tall beauty.

"Hi!" Dreadlock Boy smiles.

"Hi." Kristine smiles back.

"I'm Charles Jaxton. Well, everyone calls me Chuck. What's your name?" Charles holds his hand out to Kristine.

"Hi Charles." Kristine says, smirking, taking Chucks' hand in hers.

There's an electric moment when hands meet hands as two strangers lock eyes and smile. Suddenly, the epic Seattle, Grunge band known as Soundgarden is announced to a deafening cheer.

"YA!" Kristine screams excitedly as Chuck grins, like an idiot, over at her.

Goth girl sighs. "Gotta rescue this dork." she mutters, marching over to Chuck.

"Who's your friend, Chucky?" Goth girl's tar black lips reveal a genuinely cute smile as she stares up at Chuck and then Kristine.

"O shit, hey Lace." Chuck smiles, releasing Kristine's hand. "This is...damn...she never told me."

"Kristine." the raven haired beauty frowns, crestfallen now that she knows he is taken. "I'm sorry, and you are?" suddenly not wanting to be an ass.

"She's..." Chuck starts.

"Lacey. Lacey Jaxton. Rolling Stone...You've got a LOOK! Do you mind if I take your picture?" Lacey shouts over Chuck's voice and Chris Cornell's guitar as he checks the tuning and then begins a diatribe about how glad he is to be here today, on stage.

"Wow! Rolling Stone for real?" Kristine shouts back.

"For real." Lacey proudly displays her 'press' badge with 'Lacey Jaxton writer/photographer Rolling Stone Inc.' and her photo on the side hanging in tags around her neck.

"That's amazing! How long have you two been together?" Kristine wants more than anything now, to just go back to the concert. The handsome stranger, looking down at his girlfriend? wife? with a smirk, making Kristine's heart ache.

"Fuck, our whole lives!" Lacey laughs as she snaps a couple photos of Kristine.

"What?" Kristine seems genuinely both confused and concerned.

"She's my sister, Kristine." Chuck finally interjects.

"Older twin sister." Lacey corrects her brother.

"By 55 seconds, Lace, Jesus." Chuck's exasperated expression.

Kristine's face lights up, and she laughs and laughs. Chuck is absolutely smitten.

"I thought you two were married!" Kristine chuckles.

"O God, kill me now!" Chuck puts two fingers to his head and pretends to pull a trigger. His sister kicks him in the shins again.

Kristine finds her adorable.

"Get in there with her, Lover boy." Lacey motions to her brother to get in frame with Kristine.

"Do you mind?" Chuck asks. "She likes to take pictures of interesting people."

"I'm interesting?" Kristine asks, pulling Chuck into her.

"Hell, yes, woman." Chuck shouts above the crowd.

Lacey snaps several photos of the couple. And it's right after that moment, Soundgarden starts the intro to Black Hole Sun and a crowd of thousands loses their fucking minds.

"O! O, God...Charles..." Kristine moans out to her husband. Grasping at the sheets, knocking the photo off the bedside table where it gently lands on a soft, fluffy throw rug. The photo Kristine treasures: She and Chuck with huge smiles. Perfect strangers holding each other in a loving way. The Seattle Grunge band known as Soundgarden, visible directly off to the side. The photo that Lacey, Charles' twin sister, took on August 2, 1996. An exceptional shot.

Charles says nothing, as he attacks his wife's sex with his tongue.

Kristine enjoys long sessions of oral. It's understood between them that if he goes down, he can't just leave in 40 seconds. Charles has never known her to come immediately. It takes her quite a bit of time to build up. But once she is there, once she climbs the tower to ecstasy, her orgasms roll through her in 4 minute intervals. As long as Chuck can keep going with tongue, fingers or cock, his wife can come for an hour.

Charles has gotten a strong tongue and jaw over the years of loving his wife orally, and he takes his time with her. Coaxing the first of many orgasms to come that night, out of his gorgeous partner.

The build up is slow, but at about the 15-minute mark, she'll be thrashing her head side to side. And that is when he introduces his middle finger into the equation.

Kristine whimpers on the end of Charles' tongue and digit, grinding up into his mouth. Her clitoris is fully on fire with need. Charles doesn't hurry, nor change tempo, he just continues to take his time coaxing his wife into an explosive crescendo.

"O Christ. O Jesus!"

Chuck chuckles as he slides in a second finger and starts to finger fuck his wife for all he's worth.

"Charles! Don't you fucking stop!" Kristine cries. And her deep, guttural moan let's Chuck know he's got about 10 seconds.

"Mmmmmmmmmm!" he savors, as his wife explodes all around him, legs quaking, mouth open in silent scream, her hips furiously humping those fingers inside her.

And then she cries out. Once. Twice. And collapses on the bed, squealing and pushing her husband's face away.

After a moment, Chuck whispers low. "When have I ever stopped, woman?"

"NEVER! NOW FUCK ME!" Kristine says fiercely, as she presses her lips to her husband's, tasting herself on him.

"I thought you wanted to be on top?" Charles begins.

"Charles Jaxton if you don't fuck me right now I'm going to kill you!" Kristine laughs as she flips over, pulling the white silky négligée off, over her head. She points a tightly toned ass in Chuck's direction.

Charles has a good laugh and presses his 7-inch, thick member up to his wife's hot, closely trimmed black bush.

"That ass is killing me, Krissy. That fucking ass." he sighs, sinking into her.

Kristine moans low and long as Charles slides his full length inside her. After that, no words are spoken. Just flesh slapping flesh. Something that could have been akin to words, maybe originally, babbling out between clenched teeth.

Charles grabs his wife's breasts and pinches the nipples hard.

"MORE!" Kristine cries. "MORE CHARLES! FUCK ME HARD!"

"You want it hard?!" Chuck grits out. "Get over on the end of the bed!"

"What?"

"You heard me, over on the edge of the bed." Charles retreats from the wet, silken sex of his love and moves up off the bed and waits.

Kristine gets his meaning and scoots back until her toes are between her husband's legs, ass way up, face touching the crisp, cotton sheets on the bed.

Chuck enters the love of his life once more, and they both groan out a 'YES' as he sinks deep.

"Hang on, baby. You're getting the fuck of a lifetime!" Charles groans and starts to give it to Kristine in the way she loves.

Charles was a semi pro boxer most of his teenage and adult life. Giving it up 6 years ago, at the request of his wife, he found rock climbing to fill the space boxing had left. His incredibly strong and muscular physique is backed by a kind of endurance most triathletes dreamed of. And now Kristine was reaping the rewards.

Chuck stands directly behind his wife, hands gripping her hips, pulling her into him as he thrusts into her. Hard and fast! He hammers into his love like a man crazed, sweat forming a small rivulet between straining pectoral muscles and landing on his gorgeous wife's toned, lightly tanned ass in large droplets.

Kristine is coming again! She's lost count now how many times! When her husband fucks her like this, she has no control over her body anymore. She's lost in pleasure as he continues his unrelenting pistoning in and out of her body.

Kristine's a swimmer. She always has been. That big pool in the backyard thrills her the most. She's tall. About 5'10 with legs that reach to the sky. Her body reflects her physical fitness level. All her muscles are nicely toned. Nothing too unfeminine. Just tight as fuck. Turning her husband on even more.