Upon a Wishing Flower

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Upon a Wishing Flower Page 11

by Amy DeMeritt


  “I guess that’s true. I want so badly to paint a rainbow over this for you, but I just don’t see how to.” I smile and kiss her lips. “Hannah, you can’t see it because you’re not looking in the mirror.” She looks at me confused and I laugh a little. “You are the rainbow, Hannah.” Her eyes and mouth curl into an adorable grin and she wraps her arms around me. “You really are a dream.”

  I smile at her loving words and squeeze her closer to me.

  Hannah was right; she can never fill the holes my parents created in my heart, but she could overshadow them with the beautiful love and affection that she gives so freely and abundantly. Hers is the kind of love that can build bridges across the broken pieces of my heart, making those painful channels less noticeable.

  Chapter Eleven

  I’m sitting on my back porch with Hannah’s head laying in my lap while I watch a few birds splash around in the birdbath at the back of my backyard. The birdbath is a giant concrete eyesore that has been here since before I moved in. I wanted to get rid of it from day one, but the thing weighs a ton and I can’t move it alone. Because of how heavy it is, I can’t just leave it for the trash collectors; I have to actually have it hauled to the dump by a special heavy waste crew. In my procrastination to do something about it, I’ve actually grown accustomed to the ugly thing. It’s nice to watch the birds splash around in the water.

  We didn’t really plan on it, but Hannah has been with me all weekend. It has been really nice having her here with me so much. I feel like I’ve been on a much needed vacation. It’s going to be hard saying goodbye to her later when she goes back home and we go to work tomorrow.

  My cellphone ringing cuts through the tranquility of my silent moment. I look towards the door and groan.

  “Do you want me to grab it for you?”

  “No, that’s ok.”

  Hannah lifts her head off my lap and I hop up to try to catch the call before it goes to voicemail. I quickly answer the call and step back out onto the porch without even looking at the caller ID on my screen.

  “Hello?”

  “I had sex last night.”

  “What? Who is this?”

  “Who else do you know that had a first date with their long time crush last night?”

  “Felicia? Oh, my god, you had sex with Belinda last night?” She laughs at my shocked tone. Hannah looks at me with a big smile and suppresses a laugh as I sit back down next to her. “Ok, so, I guess that means your date went well?”

  “I’m actually a little mad at you right now. How come you never told me how amazing sex is with a woman?”

  “Uh, I thought being a lesbian implied that I find sex with another woman to be amazing.”

  Hannah looks at me with quirked eyebrows and laughs behind her hand. I smile and put my phone on speaker so she can hear Felicia.

  “Whatever, you were holding out on me. We were supposed to go out to eat, but we never made it out of her apartment. When I got there, we started making out and things quickly escalated.”

  I laugh and nudge Hannah in the arm. Hannah and I almost had that same problem on our second date. Hannah smiles and kisses me.

  “You know how she rolls her R’s when she talks? She did that against my clit. If I was a guy, I would have covered her face.”

  “Ok, too much information, Felicia. I do not need that image of you in my head.” She laughs hard and so does Hannah, who quickly covers her mouth. “Bitch, who do you have listening in on my call?” Felicia laughs and I let out a small nervous laugh as well. “Sorry, it’s Hannah. I told her about your date. I didn’t realize you were going to be so personal and graphic.”

  “Oh, I haven’t gotten graphic yet. Have you ever had a girl rub her breasts over you? Her rock-hard nipple working around my…”

  “Ok, Felicia. I get the point. It was amazing. So, are there more dates in the future? Or should I say, a real date that you actually leave the house for?”

  “Yeah, we’re going to try for an actual date Monday night. We did hang out and talk for a few hours after having sex a few times. It was nice.”

  “That’s good. Make sure you talk to her today.”

  “We already talked this morning. Do you know how sexy it is to get a wake-up call from a sleepy Spanish woman? Oh, my god! Her voice first thing in the morning is like after-sex glow. It feels so erotic on the ears.”

  “You asked her to speak in Spanish to you, didn’t you?” She giggles in the phone and Hannah laughs. “Of course, I did. When I made her cum, she screamed out in Spanish. Oh, god, that was so fucking hot! Hey, Hannah, you still there?”

  “Yes, I’m here.”

  “So, Brooke told me I can’t meet you till you two have sex. So, did you make her a new woman yet or are you still holding out on her?”

  “Hey, that is not what I said!” Hannah laughs hard and I feel my cheeks blush bright red. Hannah kisses my lips and rubs my thigh in a sympathetic way before saying, “Brooke is all fresh and new like the first blossoms of spring.” Felicia laughs and my cheeks burn even hotter. “Great! Now that you got some booty, Brooke, you better arrange for me to meet this babe in person.”

  “Fine. But don’t forget, I have to write your review soon.” Felicia scoffs comically into the phone. “Please, your professionalism always outweighs your personal interests. Well, except for Hannah. Which is why I am dying to meet the little minx.” Hannah smiles and giggles at Felicia’s teasing. “Ok, I have to get going. Brooke, I’ll see you tomorrow. And Hannah, I’ll see you soon.”

  After we hang up with Felicia, Hannah looks at me with her arms over her chest and an amused smile on her beautiful lips.

  “So, what was that about needing to get some ‘booty’ before I could meet your friend?” I laugh and shake my head. “Felicia is a brat. She twisted my words. Friday, she asked when she would get to meet you. I told her we are still fresh in our relationship and I want to be selfish with my time with you for a little longer. She put those words in my mouth, but it’s not what I meant.”

  “Well, we have been very wonderfully selfish this weekend. I have enjoyed all the time we have spent together. I really like being with you, even when we are just sitting here in the quiet.”

  “Well, that’s good. It wouldn’t be a good sign if my girlfriend didn’t enjoy being with me.”

  Hannah smiles broadly and presses her lips to mine, holding them there for several seconds. When she pulls back, she playfully flicks the tip of her tongue against the tip of my nose once.

  “I like hearing you call me your girlfriend. It’s a good thing you drank too much champagne that afternoon after taking pictures of the spa. I think it would have taken me a lot longer to wear you down if you hadn’t gotten so sleepy and needed my care.”

  “Probably. But you were already winning the senseless battle before I had the champagne. You are very persuasive.” Hannah smiles and moves to straddle my lap. She wraps her arms around my neck and I place my hands on her hips. “What would you need me to do to persuade you to do something daring with me?”

  “That depends on how daring you are talking about. Is this skydiving daring, or getting a body wrap at your spa daring?” Hannah laughs and shakes her head. “In between. I’d like to introduce you to my parents.”

  “Ah, that is daring. I think that’s two pegs under wrestling a hungry alligator. That’s going to cost you a lot of your persuasive womanly wiles.”

  “Yeah? Can I accomplish this in one day?” I smile and shake my head. “A full week I think will do the trick.” Her eyebrows quirk upwards and she smirks with a little giggle. “I’m going to have to be creative then, considering I won’t get to actually see you every day this week.”

  “I have no doubt that you can think of something.”

  “Can I start now?”

  I smile and squeeze her hips, pulling her in more firmly against me. Hannah smiles and moves in to kiss me. Just as her lips press against mine and her tongue starts to slip between my slightly parted
lips, my phone starts to ring. I groan and Hannah and I pull apart. I look at the screen and my brow furrows in confusion. The number is blocked.

  “Hello?” Silence with only a faint shuffling of papers in the background answers me back. “Hello?” Still nothing. I hang up the phone and just as I am setting it back down on the porch, it rings again. I exhale impatiently, and with equal frustration in my tone, I request, “Hello?”, again of the blocked caller. This time, a steady female voice that sounds scripted cuts through the silence, “Yes, hello. Is this Brooke Dunning?”

  “It is, and who is calling?”

  “I am calling on behalf of Veronica Dunning. She would like to schedule a lunch meeting with you this week. She is available on Wednesday at 2pm and Thursday at 12noon. Can I confirm one of these appointments for you? ”

  I laugh into the phone.

  “Are you serious? Is my mother there?”

  “Pardon me?”

  “My mother. Obviously, you must have put two and two together. We share the same last name.”

  “Ms. Veronica Dunning is not available at the moment. Which of these times would work best for you? If neither of these times work, you can provide me with a proposed rescheduled appointment date and time and I will get back to you as soon as possible.”

  “Unbelievable. No, neither of those times work for me, and for as long as the call comes from you, I won’t be available. Relay back to my mother that her daughter requires her to put the effort out if she wishes for an audience with me. Have a nice day.” Without waiting for an answer, I hang up.

  Hannah looks in my eyes in a sad sympathetic way and runs her hands through my hair. Her touch feels so good that my eyes start to close. Hannah presses her fingertips into my scalp and massages my head over its full surface and then down my neck and out to my shoulders. She presses in close, pushing her breasts in my face, as she firmly glides her thumbs and fingers down the full length of either side of my spine. I moan and squeeze her hips.

  “You are really good with those hands.”

  “So are you.” Hannah dips her hands below the waist of my pajama bottoms and massages the tops of my cheeks, making me moan again. “What would you like to do today?”

  “Macerate under your sweetness.” Hannah giggles and pulls back to kiss my lips. “How about, we go inside, make some tea, and you show me some of your photography so I can dote on you and your talent?”

  “Ok, but first…”

  I pull her down into the kiss we were about to share before the business like call from my mother’s secretary. Our lips and tongues move together in a hypnotizing way, making my head foggy like a steamed up shower. Hannah presses in harder against me and inhales deeply. I suck her bottom lip for a moment, and she moans against my lips. My hands glide over her hips and over her ass, gripping both cheeks firmly. Hannah moans again and thrusts her hips against mine.

  I have always counted myself lucky to get a corner lot that backs to trees. I have high fences so no one on ground level can see into my yard. And with the way my lot is situated, it’s impossible for anyone to see onto my porch from their windows. Unless there is an unseen drone hovering nearby, no one can see us.

  Hannah moves to my neck, kissing and sucking hard on my skin. I moan and feel my body heat rising. My hands slip inside her pajama pants, over her bare ass. I massage and squeeze her cheeks. I push deeper into her pants, cupping her under her cheeks and feel her wet slick from her center. I moan and pull a hand free, only to immediately return under the waist of her pants in the front. My hand slips between her lips and Hannah gasps loudly, thrusting her hips against my hand. Hannah lifts her hips off my lap and dips a hand inside my pants between my lips.

  Hannah resumes her mind-blowing tangle with my mouth and we both pant and gasp while we eagerly taste each other’s tongues and lips.

  After several minutes, our mouths stall with tongues lying next to each other, we both inhale sharply, and moan into the shared open cavern of our pressed mouths as we both cum at the same time and spasm and jerk against each other.

  We wrap our arms around one another and disentangle our mouths. Hannah leans her cheek against mine as we take gasping breaths. Hannah whispers in my ear, “Kissing you is dangerous. ”

  I laugh and squeeze her closer. I never want to let go of her. After a few minutes, however, we stand and go back inside.

  “My portfolio is up in my office. Do you want to start the tea while I go get it?”

  “Ok.”

  When I get to my office, I feel a rush of excitement. It has been ages since someone has wanted to see my portfolio. The last girl I dated had no interest in art at all. She was a very “clean palette” kind of person. Her entire apartment was pure white, with no decorations or pictures. It had a very sterile look about it and always made me feel like I was in an observation room of an experimental facility in a Sci-Fi film or something. Our relationship didn’t last long – maybe a couple months, if that.

  We sit down and Hannah eagerly takes the portfolio from my hands as she shuffles closer to me. She opens the large black binder and starts looking through the photographs. I have a full color section, black and white section, a variant section that I did a combination of black and white with only a single element in color, and a composite section, which combines two or more separate images.

  While Hannah flips through the pages, she makes comments here and there about ones she really likes and asks for copies of some. Occasionally, she asks about the background of the image or where it is. These are mostly buildings and landscapes that she asks about. She flips to a full 8.5X11 black and white image of a homeless man fixing a young girls bicycle training wheels and touches her chest as she studies the picture. When she looks at me, she has tears in her eyes.

  “There is so much emotion and story captured in this picture. This is beautiful.”

  “Thank you. I actually won a couple of awards for that image. One from my college and one from an indie photography magazine. ”

  “Well, you definitely deserved them. Brooke, I know you are great at this advising stuff, but you are an artist. This is where your heart is. I can see your heart and passion in all of these images. Don’t you miss this?”

  “Very much, actually.”

  “We should start a website for you. So you can sell your photographs, book photography gigs, and start building a following. That way, you can start to get back into photography slowly while still being able to maintain a steady flow of income from your advertising job. Then, maybe after some time, you could do some art galleries and maybe open a shop or something.”

  “Well, you have it all figured out, don’t you?” She smiles and nods in a matter-of-fact way. “So, it’s agreed. We’ll start working on your website this week.”

  My happiness at her overwhelming support for my love and passion for photography makes me release a small excited laugh. I kiss her head and lean in closer to her as she continues to look at my portfolio.

  Only my professors in school and a couple gallery organizers ever showed such enthusiasm in my work before. None of my friends, family, or former partners really showed much interest. My friends liked my pictures, but they didn’t respect the art. With the great cameras on smartphones now, everyone thinks they are a photographer and don’t really see the difference in quality from their photos to ones taken with a real camera. I’ve taken some really great photos with my cellphone’s camera, but nothing beats the crisp detailed images you can get with a real top-quality camera.

  Taking the picture is just the start of the art. There are computer programs that have to be mastered and used to further enhance the image. There are countless techniques and filters that can be used to create some really great images that a smartphone just can’t do .

  That’s just with digital cameras. The art involved in taking pictures with actual film – now, that is even more complex. And a photographer can’t just trust anyone with developing their film. When I take photographs with fil
m, I have to book time at a local art college to use their dark room. Occasionally, I can get time at another photographer’s studio. I have considered turning my walk-in closet in my master bedroom into a darkroom, but I wouldn’t be able to stand the smell of the chemicals used lingering around my bedroom, or my house for that matter. It has a very strong vinegar smell and while I love pickles on a cheese burger, I don’t want my bedroom and house smelling like them.

  When Hannah flips to the last page, she sighs and slowly closes the binder.

  “Will you photograph me now?”

  “Right now?” She nods with a serene smile. “Ok, let me get my camera.”

  I can’t stop smiling all the way up the stairs to my office. I have wanted to photograph a beautiful body like Hannah’s since I first decided I wanted to be a photographer. I was fourteen, sitting in a local library researching material for a huge paper I had to write. Someone had left an Ansel Adams book on the table and I got distracted looking through it. I was completely in love with his work. The black and white landscapes made my stomach flutter in a way I had never experienced before. All I could think about was getting a camera and running wild in the woods photographing everything.

  At that wild stomach flipping moment, I looked up and there was a gorgeous woman leaning across a table in front of me to grab a book. It was about ninety degrees outside so she was in short shorts and a loose tank top. As she leaned across the table, her shirt rode up and revealed her soft, femininely fit stomach. The way the light hit her accentuated her curves and lines. I was lost in the shadows and highlights of her figure. Just as she was straightening back up, she looked over and saw me staring at her. She grinned at me and my face blushed redder than a tart cherry at its peak ripeness. That was also the day I realized I’m gay.

 

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