This is a work of fiction. It is straight out of my imagination, except for most of the pagan practices mentioned. This is written for adults and if you are not supposed to read this where you live, then please don't.
Part 17
I woke the next morning, fifteen minutes before the alarm, as usual. I looked over at my beautiful man. I leaned down and licked his ear. He squirmed a little and smiled. A moment later he was asleep again. I tickled him under his arms and he squirmed away pulling the covers over him. I licked him again, and he opened his eyes. He sat up and kissed me. We both had morning breath, but we didn't care. We kissed and fondled until the alarm went off. I hit the snooze and we kissed some more. He started to go down on me again, and I stopped him.
"We don't have time. You have to go to work. I don't want to make you late." He smiled and kissed me.
"I don't care if I am an hour late. You are more important." He slipped down the bed and took me in his mouth. My back arched and I gasped for air. He ran his tongue up and down my shaft. He worked on my cock until I could feel my orgasm build. I moaned louder and he worked on me faster. I couldn't speak, so I put my hand on his shoulder. He pushed his head down on my crotch as far as he could as my cum poured down his throat. He swallowed it all and kept sucking. My orgasm wound down, but he was still sucking. My sensitive penis was overstimulated, and I had to push him off of me.
"Please, I can't take it," I said in between gasps. He looked up and smiled.
"That is for tickling me," he said with a laugh and climbed out of bed. I watched him walk across the room. His ass was perfect. I marveled at how the muscles moved underneath his tanned skin. The alarm went off again and I slapped the snooze. I sat up and turned off the alarm. I put on my robe and slippers, and went down to fix breakfast.
After starting the coffee, I made a quick meal of scrambled eggs and bacon. I beat the eggs and put bread in the toaster while the bacon was still in the oven. I set the table and looked out the window. The sun was up, and the day was going to be beautiful. I knelt next to the window. Ryan walked in tying his tie, and knelt next to me. We prayed and then turned to each other.
"You were my wish," he said looking into my eyes.
"What wish," I asked, hoping it wouldn't upset him that I had forgotten.
"The wish on the star; on your balcony." The memory flew back to me and I was touched. "I wished for you, and now you are mine." I started to cry. Ryan held me and we kissed, still kneeling on the floor.
I made him eat breakfast, wished him a good day at the office, and then sent him on his way with a kiss at the door.
"You aren't going to be wearing a polka dot dress and pearls when I get home are you," he asked, backing down the sidewalk. He picked up the newspaper and tossed it to me.
"Well, I'm not now," I said with a laugh and caught the paper. I watched him climb into his jeep and leave, waving over his shoulder. I waved then returned to the kitchen and sipped another cup of coffee. I decided it was time to put on some clothes, so I went upstairs and showered. I put on a pair of khakis and a button down, light blue shirt. I took the paper and headed off to the studio. I tossed it on the desk and sat down. I called Mom to see how Dad was doing.
"He is doing fine. He is working on his model. We talked a lot last night after you left. He is the man he was years ago. They say every dark cloud has a silver lining. This was really a miracle."
"I am glad he is doing well. Maybe I will come visit next weekend," I said looking at my calendar. There was nothing written down, but I knew I had artwork to finish before Christmas.
"That would be great. Are you going to come for Christmas? I know it is just another day to you, but it would mean a lot to us," she said, laying on a little guilt, sounding hopeful.
"I wasn't planning on it originally, but I may. Let me think about it and talk to Ryan."
"Ryan, huh. He won't be going to stay with his family in California? You know he is welcome here." She was suspicious.
"I don't know what he is doing. That is what I am going to ask him. And, I know he is welcome. I will think about it, and I will get back to you. There is plenty of time." I talked to her for a little while longer, discussing what gifts we were giving to family members. We hung up and I looked around the studio.
I decided to open up the paper and have a look. The picture on the front page surprised me. It was the man that I was painting a portrait for. Steven Sanders was one of the richest men in Savannah. His family had been rich so long, most people couldn't remember how they got the money. I happened to know that he was gay, and that was why he was a confirmed bachelor. He had a different `assistant' periodically, and they were always a handsome young man.
The article said that he was funding the restoration of an old cemetery on the outskirts of the historic district. The plans were to clean the area and repair any stones that were broken and replace the ones that were beyond help. He had a historian, whom I knew, working as a researcher, and the project was being overseen by his `assistant.' I looked back at the picture. There was a handsome young man in the photo standing to Steven's right. It looked as though he was looking directly into the camera's lense. It almost looked like he was making eye contact. There was an odd edge around him, like an outline. I figured it was mistake in the printing. I got a chill and tossed the paper on the desk. The man's eyes were familiar.
I decided it was time I finished the painting. I was in a wonderful mood, and I was ready to get the painting out of my studio. The subject was Steven's deceased mother. I had lots of source photos, but that wasn't the same as painting from life. The work was good, but didn't quite have the color detail I liked. I grabbed my tools and mixed some paint. I worked most of the day, and was happy with the results. I signed my name across the bottom in the corner and stepped back one last time to make sure it was complete. I looked in the storage room to make sure I had a crate to pack it in, and then called it a day.
(To be continued)
The next chapter will be submitted soon.
I welcome comments, twinkchaser@excite.com