previous: Coven of Angels ch5
The next few days were a blur. Richard’s body was sent for cremation. Much to my surprise, it took only a day for the remains to be returned, in a beautiful blue urn covered in military decals.
A memorial was scheduled to be held in Leo’s place. I put out an ad on a few base websites from places my father served. I also messaged my mother but I wasn’t holding out hope. In just over three days, Richard Blake’s ashes would be cast into the wind.
Until then, the house was painfully quiet. I went to the clinic, putting in volunteer hours. If they didn’t need medical staff, I would help clean bathrooms. Anything to keep my mind busy.
Once I got home, I found myself talking to the urn. Perhaps I was hoping to hear a voice from the great beyond.
Instead, the day before the services, I suffered an anxiety attack. It started with a bottle of scotch, peppermint bark and a bag of pork rinds. This ‘midday snack’ was meant to clear my mind, but instead it led to developing a mental obsession over the fact that I would someday forget the sound of my father’s voice. I remember sobbing uncontrollably, vomiting in the nearest toilet, and eventually falling asleep in the bathtub where my father and I had made love.
When the day of the memorial arrived, I did my best not to be hopeful. I didn’t ask for anyone to RSVP, so there could be anywhere from zero to hundreds of people attending. It was difficult at the best of times for military members to catch a flight. But if there were even a few people who wanted to say goodbye, this would not be a complete waste of time.
Over the course of the day, several dozen people gathered in the house. The celebration of life flowed into the garden area. There were active duty, and retired military of all ages and genders, friends and hospital staff; all there with stories of my father’s kindness, and compassion. And then there was my mother.
My mother sat in the corner, under a shady tree, sipping from a flask. Not surprising since she had nothing in common with the other mourners. Her eyes locked with mine, but I quickly walked away. I needed a drink of my own.
My father’s many friends were excited to share tales of Richard’s heroics on and off the battlefield. Richard Blake was a selfless, kindhearted caring soul who went out of his way to be the friend everyone needed, when they needed him. He helped people through the loss of family, children, and other loved ones (sometimes holding secrets that could never be aired.)
What each of them felt for Richard was a true emotional connection, a sense of trust deeper than blood relations. It was all rather empowering, and soon I felt emotionally strong enough to pay my mother a visit. “Hey, mom.”
“Hello, mijo, my love.” She wore a plain black short sleeved dress with a Nike logo on the shoulder. it looked like something from the local Walmart or perhaps a store meant for a younger demographic (since she was struggling to keep the bottom of the skirt pulled over her thighs. “Sorry,” she muttered. I drove all the way into town before I realized I didn’t pack anything black.”
I was surprised by the fact that she chose to drive instead of flying. “So, you went to Walmart?”
“No, it was a Goodwill or some sort of charity thrift shop. This was the only black dress I could find.”
Fair enough. “Why are you even here?”
“I don’t have an answer for that,” she sighed as she lit up a cigarette, “The battle is over.”
“And you won?”
“I guess,” she said with a nervous nod. “I’d like to think you won as well.”
“Because you were such a prize of a mother?”
Holding the cigarette between her lips, she reached into her light blue Kate Spade purse, pulling out a small folded photo that had yellowed with time. “If there was a funeral, I would have wanted to put this in the coffin, but since he’s already cremated, I want you to have it.” She held out the item, expecting me to take it from her hand.
I wasn’t sure I could, or even if I wanted to. “What is it?”
“It’s nothing, it’s garbage.” My mother blinked tears from her eyes, tossing the paper to the ground. “es solo basura.”
The photo fell to the ground, unfolding to reveal a young couple wearing graduation gowns. My father was holding the camera, taking a retro selfie while my mother kissed his cheek. She looked so happy, sweet, in love. I picked it up, gazing upon the youthful smile of a man whose life was about to go to shit. “You’re right. It is garbage. You never loved him.”
My mother was now bawling, covering her mouth with her hand, as to not draw attention to herself. “Your father was the love of my life. That’s why it hurt so God damned much when he cheated. Not only did he have sex with men, he found a love stronger than anything I could give him. And that’s why I hate him. I hate him so much, but there will always be a hole in my heart.”
I had no pity for her tears. “Dad told me he called you when he was sick.”
My mother nodded. “He had just come back from deployment. Your father claimed he was in real bad shape. He wanted me to come visit, even offered to pay for my ticket.”
“Did he tell you he was afraid? He was alone? Did he fully explain, that you and me; his family, we were all he had?”
She nodded again, still choking back tears.
“And you just didn’t care?”
“In my mind I assumed this whole ‘cancer’ thing, was just a trick to get me to allow him to see you. That was why I acted the way I did; treating him as if he got himself sick on purpose, just to upset me.” She held the cigarette between two fingers as she took a long drag, sucking the flame halfway down the shaft. “Please forgive me.”
“That’s between you and God.” I sure as hell would not be forgiving her anytime soon.
“Speaking of which, are you actually… you know?”
“Are we on the subject of things that upset you? Or the things that I will need to ask God’s forgiveness for?” My heart was burning with rage. “No, wait I know. How about: things that are really none of your fucking business?”
My intoxicated mother turned to me with a look of remorse. “I understand. I don’t like it, I don’t support it or accept it, but I love you.” She took another long sip from her flask, choking down the mouthful of strong-smelling alcohol. “I pray for the day my mind will catch up to my heart.”
“Yeah, me too.” I forced myself to shake her hand before I left her to her solitude. Back inside the main room, the guests enjoyed Leo’s food and wine. They spoke of Richard Blake’s remarkable life. And when the time came, my father’s ashes were cast to the wind.
I couldn’t help but sob. I was swallowed up by the love and compassion of a room full of strangers, all showering me with praise just for being the son of such an amazing man. Surrounded by such love, I’d never felt so alone. That night, and for the rest of my time in South Dakota, I went to sleep in Leo’s bed. I had a few more weeks in Leo’s place. I mean I could have left, but where would I even go?
In that moment, I just needed to get some sleep. (Or try to anyway.) As it turns out, all I could do was watch the alarm clock ticking slowly. At around three am I felt Leo crawl into bed. “Hey, Jeff.” He softly kissed my shoulder, as he proceeded to spoon my back. “You doing okay, kiddo?”
I shook my head, burying my face into the fluffy, oversized pillow. “I don’t know what to do. All my life, all I ever wanted was to meet my father. I thought that would somehow lead to every answer to every question.” Holy fuck, that sounds like something a small child would say. “So, God damn stupid.”
“No, nothing about that is stupid. You wanted to know your past; your history, your culture.”
I knew Leo was right. “I had built up that moment in my mind, my father would be the missing piece and just knowing him would give me the strength to go on with my life. Now I don’t know what I want. I don’t want to go home to Nevada, or Washington, I don’t want to go back to school. Fuck, I don’t even know if I want to be a doctor.” There was an awkward silence. Was I considering suicide? Was there anything left to live for? My heart raced at the thought.
“And that’s fine.” Leo kissed the back of my neck. “Everything about you is fine.”
With Leo’s comforting warmth I finally fell asleep. After a dreamless night I awoke to a bright window and an empty bed. At least that’s what I thought.
Physically and emotionally exhausted, I forced myself to stand up and close the curtains, only to be greeted by a massive cliff where the garden used to be. “What the?”
Although my legs felt like jelly, I rushed outside to find a ledge. What remained of the garden was a white wooden bench, next to a single apple tree. Sitting on the ground, in front of the bench, with his legs dangling into the abyss was a young man with blonde hair. He seemed to be focused on something in the far horizon.
“Hello?” I took a step forward, onto the cold, wet grass.
The man turned, smiling at me with his sweet youthful eyes. “Hi Jeff.”
“Dad?” The man smiled and nodded as he stood up holding his arms out for a hug. I rushed over and held him. “You look great.”
“I feel pretty good.” Richard glanced at his body; with his sun kissed skin, and exposed abs, he looked like a college kid on the way to the beach. “This was my body before everything went to hell.” He touched his stomach, as if trying to test if this moment was real. “I was in my thirties when I first started getting headaches; something about long-term radiation exposure, I don’t even remember.”
“And you shouldn’t.” I cupped his face, looking deep into his eyes. “You did so well in your life. You earned your right to everlasting peace.”
My father placed his finger to my chin, stroking my bottom lip. “There are some things I do want to remember.” He kissed me softly, coaxing my mouth open. “You have his soul; the spirit of an artist, a visionary. Carlos saw the world in a way that made everything make sense.”
I opened my mouth taking in his breath. As our lips hovered, I closed my eyes, desperate to fully experience his touch.
“You, my beautiful boy, in all your forms.” He took my hand, guiding me to his chest, down his ribs to his hip. “You were the love of my life.”
I slowly opened my eyes, hoping to God this was not a dream. Looking down at my hands, I finally got a good look at Richard Blake in his new, perfect form.
He wore a light blue button-down shirt with a popped collar. It was completely open, exposing his body; the sexy defined chest and stomach muscles, the kind of body someone could have a lot of fun with. I couldn’t help but notice, his tattoos were gone, but where my father was headed, they would not be needed.
I moved my mouth to his, kissing him with a passionate intensity as we both struggled to undress. I had to pause for a second, to tear off my own t-shirt, since it refused to politely slip off over my head.
As we kissed again, my cock was so hard, just begging to be set free. I let my sweatpants fall to the floor, kicking them off the cliff.
My father had full range of my body to do with as he pleased. He maneuvered us back to the door where he commanded me to lift my legs around his waist. As he pinned me against the door, I could feel his erection pressing against his stomach.
“I want you so bad.” Richard struggled with his denim shorts for a moment, but once he was free, his cock rammed into my hole, fucking me without mercy. With every thrust he was slamming my back against the wooden door.
It was like being loved by the father I never had and the partner I always wanted. I was holding on to him, not even noticing what my own cock was doing. I snuck a peak, briefly, looking down.
“Don’t even think about it.” My father forcefully kissed my neck, licking, sucking, and even biting his way up to my ear. He paused, matching his breaths to his thrusts. “Only sinners touch themselves. Do you understand?”
“Good boy.” Richard scooped me up in his arms, carrying me to the bench. With his cock still inside me, my father bent me over the bench, facing away from him. He reached around, gripping between my quivering thighs. “Spread your legs, son.”
I tried my best to oblige, spreading myself until I could feel a breeze on my exposed sack. This got me a sharp smack to my thigh. I gasped for air. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“Don’t be sorry, you’re doing good.” Richard spanked me again, this time harder. “Show daddy that nice ass.”
I needed to cum so bad. “Please let me touch myself, Daddy.”
“You get to finish when I tell you to.” He held on to my hips with one hand, while gripping my shaft like a cock ring. “Do you hear me?”
“What was that?” He gripped me harder, moving his hand up to my tip. I could feel myself drenching him in precum.
My legs were trembling, I could barely stand, but as I took a breath, I knew what he wanted from me. “Yes, Papi.”
I felt a deep, intense, pressure as my daddy filled my ass over and over. “Say it again.”
“Yes, Papi,” I cried out through the most powerful orgasm of my life. “my angel, mi amor.”
Soon there was cum dripping down my thighs. “Good job, son.” My father kissed the back of my neck. “Now stay where you are. You’ve been such a good boy; I want to give you a treat, something I know you’re going to like.”
I could feel him spread my ass putting his mouth to my tender hole. “Daddy?” My father licked my rim, tasting his own heavenly seamen. Just when I thought there was nothing more he could do (other than finally letting me ejaculate) Richard put his tongue inside me, causing me to clench. “Oh, God.” This was a first.
My father gripped my abs, steadying my balance. “Just relax,” he whispered to my gaping hole. “Put your weight on your arms.” He massaged his hand down to my ballsack, giving it a tender squeeze. “I think you’re ready.”
“I’m ready?” I wanted to inquire further, when footsteps approached.
The sound seemed to be emanating from the direction of the cliff. “Do you think he’s ready?” the voice was Tomas.
Before I could turn to look in the nurse’s direction, Richard placed his hand upon my neck. “He’s strong, he can take it.”
Why didn’t he want me to look in Tommy’s direction? I could hear the sound of a long thin belt being used to secure my hands. The item felt like leather but shimmered with a white-silver glow.
Tomas gripped my hips, spreading my ass. “Don’t be afraid, Jeff, just close your eyes.” He rubbed the length of his shaft against my well lubed hole, teasing me, before penetrating my already sore man-pussy one inch at a time. “I don’t want to hurt you too badly.”
“Fuck you, Tomas,” I said with a drunken laugh. “I can take anything you can bring.”
“Don’t worry, you will.”
In a matter of moments, I needed to scream. I had never felt something so big, and ribbed. I could feel it growing, stretching my insides. And then he started to thrust.
I cried out, gasping for air. I could feel his manhood fucking the inside of my abdominal wall. Was this what it felt like to be pregnant, to have my body filled with life?
“You’re doing really good, just take it all in.” Tomas put his hand on my stomach. He was rubbing his own dick, through my skin. “You like that, don’t you? Do you like having your pussy fucked?”
My muscles tightened as I went limp. My entire body felt overcome with pleasure.
“Do you like having your tight little ass stretched until you can’t feel anything except for my cock.”
I nodded silently, as I continued to struggle for breath.
Tomas spanked my tender ass cheek. “Do you want me to breed your man-pussy like the slut that you are?”
“Yes, please.” I blinked my eyes, hoping for a moment of rest.
Suddenly, Leo stood in front of me. He was completely naked, his cock was near my lips, dripping with precum. He ran his fingers through my hair, guiding me to swallow him whole. “Just take it nice and slow.”
His shaft went completely down my throat. I could still breathe out of my nose, but there was a mild sense of fear as he held my face to his sweaty ballsack. Leo’s stomach tightened, making his abs look even sexier. The fact that meant he was about to climax was lost on me, until it finally happened. As Leo was filling my stomach, to the point where my gag reflex was too compromised to even function, Tomas gripped my hips.
My eyes filled with tears as he blew his load deep inside my ass. The sensation was electric; pain and pleasure combined in to one beautiful moment. If I had to guess, this was what it felt like to both die and be reborn.
“Daddy’s here.” Richard Blake lifted my face, leaning in for a soft gentle kiss to my forehead. “I’m so proud of you, son. When this is all over you will have the answers that you seek.”
I closed my eyes, letting the pure energy wash over me. I had never felt so free. When I awoke, I knew what I wanted. (Or at least I thought I did.)
I leaned back, taking in the refreshing warmth of the silk sheets. The morning light was still there, and I was still very much alone. On the nightstand was a note, ‘Don’t forget to leave a 5-star review. Thanks, love, Leo.’
“Yeah, I’ll do that.” My bags were all packed (assumably by either Leo or Tomas), all I had to do was take a step outside. My e-bike was in the driveway, fully charged. I’d never felt so afraid. My helmet was in my luggage, or at least I assumed it was.
That was when I touched my hair, the length, the texture. it was my Hispanic mother’s hair. something about it felt wrong. I got on my bike heading east. Maybe I’d go to New York, New Jersey or any other states I’d never been to before. I barely got a view of the street signs, as they whizzed by. I figured I just keep driving until I caught sight of a major city. Nevertheless, as the sun went down, that goal became, ‘Any sign of life what so ever.’
“What are you thinking about?” I asked the sky. I assumed I had at least one (possibly three) guardian angels. “Am I acting crazy? Is there anything waiting for me in this direction? Can I have a sign?” It was at that moment my bike skidded off the road, into a tree.
I was thrown safely down a ravine but my bike was totaled. “What the fuck, guys?” Thankfully I was not injured too badly. Dusting myself off, I was feeling just a bit of mortal fear. I figured I had to keep moving in the same direction. Something had to appear eventually. (Either that or I’d be dead by daylight.)
I was tired, thirsty. Little by little I found myself littering the highway with my possessions, leaving behind anything that was slowing me down. Clothes, electronics, anything except for what I needed to survive. I walked for what felt like an eternity, the temperature going from unbearably hot to near freezing. Under the moonlight, just when I thought I was going to pass out in the middle of nowhere, I spotted what looked like a rest stop. There was a single vehicle, a rusted out yellow tow truck.
Someone was sitting in the driver’s seat, facing away. The door was open and they appeared to be smoking. All I could see was a head of blonde dreadlocks.
“Hey,” I said, hoping to God this was not a serial killer.
The figure exited the truck, tossing her long dreads over her shoulder. “Hey.”
I could see she was a female about the same height as myself but with a thinner build. She wore a crop top and torn jeans, but in the moonlight, she looked like an angel. “I’m Jeff, um…”
She replied with a sweet smile. “Well, Mr. Jeff Um, do you need a ride?”
“Yeah, I guess I do.”
She took a step forward, running her fingers through my hair, tracing a line down my cheek. “I like your hair, Jeff Um.”
“Actually, my name is Jeffery Blake.” My hair was heavy with sweat, but I had to admit it looked a little more natural that way. “I like your hair too.” I suddenly realized I’d never gotten her name. Like something out of a movie, I looked at the name tag pinned to her top. “G?” That was all it said; the letter G, followed by a longer word that had been scratched off years ago.
She pulled me close, pressing her hips to mine. that was when I noticed something else. And she knew I knew. “You’re probably wondering what to call me,” there was a quality of nervousness in her voice. “The name’s Gigi, and that’s my truck. I’m headed to Toronto for work.”
“What kind of work do you do?”
“The kind that can pay for my hormone replacement therapy.”
“Kind of a waste of time,” I muttered, not realizing the words that came out of my lips.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I think you’re beautiful just the way you are.” I knew I must have sounded abnormally sweet. My heart was racing, not out of fear, but out of passion. This was fate.
We drove out to Toronto where it turns out she was a first nation native. She worked as a stripper while I took a job at the public hospital, working towards a pediatric residency.
After three beautiful years together:
Gigi and I got married in July. I grew out my hair into long dreads, braided with a blue ribbon the color of the midwestern sky. There was no wedding or guests, just a promise made to each other under the light of God’s love.
Now, twenty years later, I’ve gone into missionary work, living out my dreams in central America. I’m in my forties, still wearing my hair long, with noticeable streaks of gray. I run my own charity group, similar to doctors without borders.
Gigi and I were in Nicaragua helping out after the hurricane-monsoon-earthquake devastated the nation. I remember checking the broken bones of a child who was barely alive. Suddenly, a soldier in full riot gear with a mask covering their face rushed in and placed a small blood covered lump of cloth in my arms. Before I could say anything, the soldier had vanished.
I stepped to the side, allowing one of the nurses to take over. Upon removing the cloth from its face, the baby was screaming in pain. That, at least meant it was alive. I opened the blanket to reveal a little boy. You couldn’t have been older than six months.
When you locked eyes with me, your tears stopped and my heart melted. I remember, you had wavy blond hair the color of corn and big blue eyes the color of the Dakota sky.
I named you Richard, after my pa.
Maybe one day you’ll want to track down your birth parents. I think they were tourists from England or Sweden, something like that. I’ll never stop you from wanting to know your roots. But you will always be my special boy.
coming soon to Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Mary-Ramsey/e/B076VVX9DJ/ref=dp_byline_cont_pop_ebooks_1