“I really don’t want to let you go, Angel.” Martin cuddles closer to Dave. Only thirty minutes, then the love of his life has to leave for the airport. “Why do you snicker now?” Instead of answering Dave picks something from Mart’s messy curls. It’s a little, white down feather that somehow must have escaped the duvet or one of the pillows. “I knew it! You’re an angel and I ruffled your feathers.” With a broad grin the blond man takes the little item from his lover’s slim fingers, puffs against it and then starts teasing him with it. “Mercy, stop it!” Dave digs his fingers into his attacker’s fluffy, banded mohair pullover. “You Llama!” “Who’s the Llama spitting on stage like a rugby player?!” They both wriggle on the white couch, guffawing like teenagers.
“Let me feel it again.” Before Mart can complain Dave’s hand disappears behind the waistband of his stonewashed jeans. His touch evokes another passionate moan. With swift moves the fly is open and Dave stares at the glistening ring with the two shiny gems. He quickly kisses it and then zips Mart again.The door buzzer yanks them back into reality. “Fuck!” As fast as he can Martin opens Dave’s trousers and pulls down his briefs a little to have a good view. “I still can’t believe it. I love you!” He kisses the ring and then puts everything back into place.
Mart’s mobile chimes and he hastily picks up. “I just landed, Sweetheart.” The blond man has to swallow hard. “We have a hell of a blizzard over here. Merry Christmas! We’ll talk New Year’s Eve!” “Dave…god, I’ll be counting the hours!” “Sure, but we both have our kids and family, too. Give them all your love now. I for sure will. Need to rush now. Cheers, my love!” Mart hears the signal of the line gone dead. That’s so typical Dave again! “I love you, my crazy fool.”
“Daddy, could you help me with the socks, please?” The blond haired, tall girl – typical teenager – tries to find a hook over the massive, antique fire place. “Do I really have to, Paris? I told you I’m not really in a proper Christmas mood.” “Please! Be good for me! It’s bad enough you told all family to leave you alone in your misery but I won’t let you slack off again like a clochard!” She steps down from the chair and walks over to one of the couch chairs and hugs the scruffy looking man who’s sitting in it, pretenting to read a book. His face could need a proper shave and his hair is – friendly spoken – a bit messy. Alan doesn’t give a shit. “How long will you go on with your self-hatred, Da?” She plunks down on his lap and curls her arms around his shoulders. “I love you, Daddy. I can’t stand seeing you this way.” She looks sad yet there’s still a good portion of strength and determination in her expression. “What do you think of taking a hot bath, shaving and sprucing up while I make us some hot chocolate with Amaretto? I also brought lots of cookies from granny.” “You’re not giving up, won’t you?” “No, I’m as stubborn as you.” She hugs him again and kisses his forehead. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth. You smell awful!”
The last water drops trickle down the moist tiles. Dave grabs the large, white, fluffy bathing sheet from the rail and starts rubbing the shiny wetness from his skin. The fragrance of his shower gel lingers in the damp air. Ruffling through his short hair his view meets his own reflection in the glass door of the shower area. The sight of the silvery ring around his private parts sends tiny electric impulses through his groin. Gently touching it his cock twitches slightly. Closing his eyes he envisages Martin’s clear, green eyes, the tiny brown spots in the never still irises, the plump lips – the corners curling up, emphasizing the sweet little mole on the lower, right cheek near by. The soft, full locks – he can nearly sense them under his fingers clutching around them while they every now and then tickle his lower abdomen, in the steady rhythm with the moving lips sucking him senseless.
A low but needy moan escapes the brunette man’s throat. Another sensation lets him abruptly lifting his lids. Slim, cool fingers join his right hand around his growing manhood. Tender lips kiss between his shoulder blades.
“Hey, Baby- let me help you with that.” Jennifer’s breathy voice gives him crawlies down his spine. “Rosie’s finally asleep and it’s after midnight. Merry Christmas, David.” Her fingers meet the prominent ring and she stops in her actions, pulling him by his arm to make him turn around. He follows her nonverbal request. “A gift?” She places her index back onto the shimmering item and follows it’s form. “It’s beautiful.” She hesitates for a moment. “He’s got taste.” Dave has to swallow and faces the vivid, dark eyes of his wife. “Merry Christmas, my angel.” His pink lips meet her’s and he drags her into a proper embrace. A little giggle lets him break the contact again. “Dave, I don’t think you’re in need of it. I have no complaints so far – not at all.” She blinks at him in her special, naughty way. He takes her by her shoulders and fixes her view. “I don’t wear it for that reason – well, not in the first place.” He touches the ring and a little click sound illustrates his further words. “It’s adjustable – despite the usual ones. I can wear it as long as I want.” He clears his throat nervously. “I will wear it as long as Martin wants me and I him…as long as our love is alive.” He makes another short pause. “He’s got an equal one. They’re custom made…after the design I handed in to one of my fav designers.” The pressure of his fingers that start to dig into her delicate skin increases. “Jenny, I love you. I made that promise once – I would make it again any time you want.” She places her face against his chest and exhales slowly. Listening to the agitated beat of his heart she rests there, staying quiet at first.
“David, I know what I was in when you asked me – no - more begged me to see Martin. You could have just sneaked out. One day more or less – you would have been back in time. Yet you asked me. I’m not stupid. I know how you tick meanwhile. God, if that’s the price to pay I’m willing to pay it. I love you and I trust your heart with mine.” She lifts her face again and a single tear creeps down her left cheek. “Is it too much to ask my husband to make passionate love to me now? With me?” She tries a tiny smile and reaches for the cock ring, pressing it, making it snap tighter with another click. “You’ll need it now. I’m demanding tonight.”
“When do you have to leave, Precious?” Alan checks his watch for another time – nervous and disillusioned. “Argh, Dad! Why can’t you simply enjoy the time I’m actually there instead of worrying about the one I’m gone? You’re really difficult recently, you know.” She moves closer to him on the cosy, soft leather couch and hugs him heartily. “Anyway – I love you, grumpy old man!” Seeing the pain in his eyes she knows that wasn’t such a clever remark. “Being in your late fourties isn’t a death sentence…really!” Paris smoothes down his stubble. Her eyes start to water. “No, baby- no tears on Christmas Eve! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for being such an awful dad at the moment.” “Then stop feeling sorry for yourself for a start. There’s nothing I have to forgive you. You have to forgive yourself.” She looks straight into his eyes. “That’s what mom says.” He lowers his head in shame, recalling Hep’s big, sad, pain filled eyes, the blood dripping down her nose, her battered, fragile face. The little, soft hand that lifts his head by his chin kind of hurts him. “She’s right.”