“I have a confession, my love,” he whispered in a low baritone voice.
“I thought you didn’t have any dark secrets?” I sarcastically smiled.
“Well!” He furrowed, a hint of concernment crossed his face.
My heart sank. Not Antonio. Please not Antonio
“Veronica, they are not deep dark secrets. They are simply lost memories in which I would like to remind you,” he comforted.
“What do you mean?” wiping tears from eyes.
“Remember that card I put on your cousin’s nightstand.”
“Yes, I couldn’t believe you went to the store and bought it for me.”
“I didn’t,” he quietly replied.
“I don’t understand.” I wistfully stated.
“Veronica, I have had that card for thirty years. It is a picture of us.”
“What, that is impossible,” I exclaimed, “it looks like new.”
“That is because I never took it out of the plastic.”
“Think back. Really think back. When we were children, our families met during a photo shoot. You and I met. Your father actually inspired me to play the guitar.”
“Get out of here. You have to be joking.” I wheezed.
“No, really think about it.”
“So, you have known me this whole time?”
“No. I actually realized it last night. I have had that picture card for years in a childhood memory box which I misplaced. When Maria died, I had to go through her closet. As I was shuffling through her items, I found my memory box. I had forgotten all of the items that I had placed inside of it. Guess I am a pack rat with the sentimental things.”
When I came across the picture card, my mind drifted back. I was so happy and excited to be at the beach. When we were there I was too young to hardly care about being in a photo shoot, if you know what I mean.”
“Yes. Oh my gosh, wait a minute. I am starting to remember. Sorry…I didn’t remember it was so long ago. And, it’s just that I had done so, so so many photo shoots—” Wow that sounded a bit conceited—“as a young girl, but this one was different, I am vaguely remembering because, yes it was at the beach.” I sat up higher on the pillows to gain some leverage in our conversation. “Please keep talking.”
“The man who took our picture was Dave Hamstein. He was getting ready to start a card company and wanted our picture as his signature card for that year. My dad had mailed a baby picture of me to a radio station conducting a contest for baby beach models. According to my father, Dave saw my picture and new I was the child for the job.”
“I don’t remember the part about my parents entering a radio contest.”
“That’s because they didn’t,” he smiled that sexy grin, “My dad told me that your father was Dave’s lawyer. My Dad told me that when Mr. Hamstein was creating his company I with your father’s legal advice, he looked up your dad’s family photograph and noticed you. He immediately asked your father’s permission to allow you to be photographed.”
“Oh my, I remember my dad coming home one day saying kids were going to the beach. Vikki is going to be a big Star. Wow, I actually remember that. But he never told me it was an actual photo shoot.”
“That’s right….Well, maybe he didn’t want you to get a big head and all…with all those other photo shoots you were doing.” Antonio laughed. “What a small world.” He hummed.
“But why didn’t the cards every get massed produced?”
“Well, that is a very sad story. In which you know a part of it.”
“What do you mean? What are you saying?”
“Shortly after the photo shoot Mr. Hamstein fell on very tough times. His wife died and he sunk into a major depression. Your father, being a compassionate man, helped him for years. Your dad actually assisted him for ten years,” he reflectively shared.
“My Dad helped him for ten years? We never knew!”
“Mr. Hamstein was a proud man and your father respected his dignity.”
“What else happen?” I inquired kissing his mocha cheek.
“This part is hard to tell you, Veronica.”
“It’s okay. Continue.”
On December 21, 1982, your father and Mr. Hamstein were on their way to finally publish Mr. Hamstein’s cards.”
“I know this date. Please stop.” I cried. Tears began to stream from my face.
“I am sorry,” he softly whispered.
“But how? How could you know so much? What kind of game are you playing,” I barked rudely.
“Veronica, please. This is not a game. I told you I found my memory box. I told you I found the card inside. What I didn’t tell you was that I found my journal. When I was a young boy, I would journal. One of my favorite things to journal was my conversations with my dad.”
“My dad and Mr. Hamstein became good friends after the photo shoot. Mr. Hamstein used to rave about your father to my padre. For some reason, he really trusted my father.”
“Just hold me,” I whimpered. Being reminded of the loss of my wonderful dad was so painful. I wanted to forget, but my curiosity got the best of me. “What happen to Mr. Hamstein?” But I failed. The truth was it also felt healing to hear wonderful things about my father.
“He passed away with your father. I am sorry. Your Mom never told you?”
“No,” I quickly and rudely responded, pouting like a little spoiled child. “She only told me that there was a terrible accident, and daddy is with the angels. Of course I was so young…” I quickly burst into to tears, sobbing.
“I am so sorry…for your loss..” His voice was so genuine.
Antonio held me tight in his strong arms, tenderly kissing my forehead. He softly sang in order to calm me.”
“Hush little baby, don’t you cry…” He sang so lovely.
I didn’t mean to cut him off. “Antonio, make me forget. Please make me forget,” I sighed, pressing my lips against his mouth.
He quickly turned me on my back, softly spreading my legs.
“Yes Antonio, I need you. Make me forget the pain.”
His fingers laced me my ankles as I reached down and caressed his large member. It was warm and thick in my hands. I glided him toward my soft flower. He gently pushed forward until he penetrated deep within me.
“Yes, that is what I need. I need you Antonio. I need you,” I wistfully whispered.
Resting on his knees he gently stroked my moistened fruit with his full cock. Each time he pulled it out, I could feel the ridge of his gland rub against my clitoris. The stimulation was mind blowing. I began to pant again.
He began thrusting faster and faster sending us both into a crescendo of moans and groans until we both simultaneously exploded. Looking deep into his eyes, I whimpered, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he quickly responded.
I couldn’t believe that I was lying with the boy of my youth. I laughed, joked, teased with him in another lifetime, as children. I felt like we were soul mates, and I could sense he felt the same way.
Breathless again, we collapsed into each other’s arms.
“Wow, I have never had anyone make me gush in such a high pitch voice the way you do,” I exhaled.
“I told you that you were the high note to my song,” he brushed his fingertips across my throat.
I beamed deeply into his eyes; he winked and cloaked me in his loving arms around my nakedness. I laid my head against his chest; his heartbeat was all I could hear. He squeezed me gently, I did the same in sync, reassurance, and we both knew there would be a lifetime of high notes to hit together.
THE END
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