An Unexpected Gift

by Brandon Carlisle

  "Whoa! This is new."

  "Handsome, this is only the beginning."

  I wrapped his wrist loosely and tied it to one of the slats in the headboard. His eyes went wide as I straddled his chest and did the same to his other wrist, grinning at his surprised, but excited expression.

  I moved to the foot of the bed and tied his ankle to the base, repeating the steps on the other side.

  I stood off to the side at the foot of the bed and gave him my most evil smile. "Now we can begin."

  Leaning over him, I ran my tongue along the instep of his right foot until I reached his big toe and then swallowed it. I sucked on it until I heard him giggle and then moved along each toe until I reached the end. I tickled his ankle with the tip of my tongue before licking my way up his leg, taking my time, stopping occasionally to tug at the dark hair on his leg with my teeth and listen to him gasp. When I reached his knee, I rolled his leg slightly to lick my way to the back and flicked my tongue before I sucked on the skin gently. It was one of his sensitive spots and I heard him groan with pleasure. I let my hand glide up to his cock and slowly stroked it.

  Working my way further up his leg I paused next to his groin and breathed in his masculine scent. The wonderful fragrance of my Isaac. I let my tongue sweep over the sensitive flesh until it met with his balls and I flicked my tongue over them lightly as I watched his body spasm involuntarily and heard his whimpers. Grinning, I continued until I caught the choked words, "Sebastian, please…."

  I stroked his cock and looked up at him. "Yes?"

  "Suck me, please?"

  "Soon, baby. I promise. Soon."

  I licked his balls and swallowed them one at a time, rolling them on my tongue, before I began my descent down his other leg, taking my time as I heard him whimper. I took extra care to pause behind his knee before continuing on to repeat the attention I gave to his other leg. When he pleaded and cursed, I crawled up and hovered over his sweating face with a smile.

  "Christ, you can be a prick!"

  "And I love you, too." I gave him a peck on the lips.

  Originally, I had planned to give my man a tongue bath before blowing him, rimming him, and fucking him senseless. That was before I had my brilliant idea. "Now we're going to change things a bit."

  I heard him mumble a few curses as I went to the closet and retrieved one of my silk scarves. "Lift your head. I'm going to blindfold you for our next adventure. It's all going to be about your senses. I think you will enjoy it. Think back to some things we've talked about trying."

  Once I tied the scarf on, I climbed off the bed. "I'll be right back."

  I heard him laughing and then, "Oh shit! Where are you going?"

  I was a little nervous as I gathered up the supplies in the kitchen. I placed the last item in the microwave and warmed it before placing it on the TV tray and carried them back into the bedroom, setting them next to the bed.

  "Now, this will be a test of your senses. As I apply these items to your body, tell me what they are. Once you identify what they are, I will lick them off your body. Are you ready?"

  He was panting. "Oh boy, am I ready."

  "This first one is easy." I slowly slid the item across his left nipple and watched it peak as his body shivered and he called out.

  "Ice cube!"

  "Good boy." I slowly licked around his nipple and then suckled the nub before moving on to the other to give it equal time.

  "Now, this one shouldn't be too difficult." I grabbed the can and shook it before tipping it toward the center of his chest. Tilting it downward, I sprayed a generous straight line from between his nipples down to just above his crotch when I heard him hiss.

  "Whipped cream."

  Letting my tongue slowly lap up the whipped cream, I worked my way down to the base of his cock, taking my time once there, and drawing circles above the swollen member.

  "This one might be more difficult for you. Keep your lips closed." I took a tablespoon and dipped it into the jar, applying a liberal amount of the gooey mass onto his lips. "Now taste it with your tongue."

  "Ugh! It's that crappy marshmallow stuff that Andy likes."

  I crawled on top of him laughing as I licked the Fluff off his mouth, and slid my tongue between his lips, devouring his mouth. His groans had me grinding into his hips as he responded in kind. I held his head in place, loving the control I had as I drove my hips against him while he moaned my name in response. I pulled away and whispered with just a touch of evil. "Not yet, but soon, baby." He whined in response, and I smiled.

  I grabbed the squeeze bottle and paper towels. I tucked a few sheets under his balls. Popping the cap, I squeezed the bottle.

  "WHOA! What the fuck! Is that syrup!"

  "What kind?"

  "I hope it's chocolate."

  I licked his balls and heard, "Oh yeah."

  Spending the time on one of my favorite activities, I continued as he pleaded, "a little higher", which I ignored. When I finished licking him clean, he whined. "When?"

  Sitting up, I bundled up the paper towels and set them on the TV tray, grabbing a fresh batch. I tucked them under him and heard a little, "Oh yeah". I grabbed the last item which was the jar I heated in the microwave, and it was still pleasantly warm. Taking another spoon off the tray I ladled the thick mass over the tip of his erect cock and ran it down to his balls.

  "Holy crap! What the hell is that?"

  "Guess."

  "Umm… Ahhhh… I… I… fudge sauce! Is it fudge sauce?"

  Sweeping my tongue over the length of his cock he laid his head back against the pillow, letting out a sigh of relief. I set the jar down on the TV tray and went to work.

  I licked up and down continuously until I cleaned his shaft. Then I went to his balls to catch every stray bit of sauce I had missed until he was clean. I swallowed each of his balls, rolling them one at a time in my mouth while I massaged them with my tongue. When I returned to his swollen tip, I swallowed deep until I was down to the root and worked him until I knew he was getting close as he bucked into my mouth. He had been close for some time and I knew it wouldn't take much to make him come, but I pulled off at the last moment.

  "This is your night. I am giving you three choices. You can come now while I suck you, or you can come while I rim you, or you can come while I fuck you. Which do you want?"

  "How about we try for a mix? What if you suck me and I come? Then you rim me, and when you fuck me, I try to come again?"

  Oh my God. I almost came just from the thought of it. "I like the way you think." Untying his ankles, I grabbed the bottle of lube from the night stand and squeezed some on my finger. Swallowing him whole I slipped it into the puckered rosette and went straight for his prostate as I sucked him. It took no time at all for me to be swallowing the biggest load of his I ever had, and I had to catch my breath before I could climb up next to him for a break before we could start round two.

  Round two was eventful, though not as record breaking as the first. Rimming him was one of my favorite acts, and I had him writhing and calling my name, begging me to fuck him in no time. I was hard as a rock and leaking pre-cum before I entered him. Unfortunately, his poor dick was pretty spent, and when he came, I could tell his dick was raw. I fucked him into the mattress and filled him as if I hadn't had sex in a month, which was far from the truth.

  We must have slept like the dead because we were awakened by, "Holy crap, I did not want to see this!"

  Isaac and I bolted upright in our bed to find Andy looking at the assortment of goodies on the TV tray and then back at us with the most incredible expression on his face.

  "You guys are not as vanilla as I thought. I, uh, knocked, but you didn't answer. Patrick is making waffles. There's coffee ready if you want breakfast."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The Exhibit

  Isaac

  Now that the boys have moved out it felt strange having them close but not right here in the flat. We enjoyed the privacy, but it felt w
eird not having them underfoot. It had been a few weeks now and Andy was spending hours in the studio painting. He had gathered a lot of material from his trips with Abby. He and Patrick bought an old VW van that needed work, but as they told us, it suited their purposes.

  Andy was preparing for the grand opening of his exhibit at Margaret's gallery this coming Friday at seven in the evening. Margaret wanted to do it earlier, but with Andy's sales at the gallery, the inventory ran short so the opening had to be postponed. He finished some partially complete paintings to add to the show, and now it was ready.

  We wanted to do it up with tuxedos but Andy put his foot down and said it wasn't him. He agreed to let us wear sport coats and told us he and Patrick would meet us there. When Abby came down to meet us, we were floored. She was wearing a pale blue silk dress that exposed her still healthy cleavage and had matching high-heeled shoes. She also had matching eye shadow and blood-red lipstick. The ruby jewelry we found in the attic sparkled and stood out beautifully. The necklace, brooch, and earrings, were complimented by the emerald ring and an assortment of silver bracelets on each wrist. Her hair was cut and dyed like Dorothy Hamill from the Olympics. She looked like an older version of the girl.

  Sebastian laughed, "Isaac, now I feel under dressed!" We were in simple sports coats and slacks. I wore a charcoal jacket and gray slacks, while Sebastian was wearing a maroon jacket with pale gray slacks. Both of us were wearing simple white dress shirts with cuff links and no ties.

  With a flourish, Abby pulled out an oriental fan that complemented her ensemble. "I decided for something different. I don't care what the boy said."

  Sebastian fanned his face with his hand. "Girl, you certainly know how to pull it off."

  Just then we heard a horn out front. Sebastian motioned to the door, "Your chariot awaits."

  The ride to Fisherman's Wharf took longer than anticipated, as it was a Friday evening. Stepping out of the taxi, the gallery was already busy, but not yet packed. As we stepped through the entrance, a young lady handed us a brochure with a picture of Andy and a brief profile. Inside the brochure were pictures of several of the paintings on display.

  What amazed me was the picture of him on the cover. I hadn't seen it before and it was striking. He never mentioned having it taken, and you could see a professional did it. He was wearing an emerald shirt with the first few buttons open, and his hair which was longer now, hung loose about his face with the curls brushed out. Looking at the picture made me realize how much he had changed.

  Sebastian tapped me on the arm. "There he is." He pointed to a far corner of the gallery where there was a small group of people. I could see Margaret and Patrick. Someone moved and finally I could see Andy's red hair. Patrick saw us and pointed in our direction. When Andy turned around, I could not believe the transformation.

  Andy was dressed in black leather skin-tight pants, a white silk shirt with ruffles along the front. It was open half way down, and he had on a black leather vest on top. I thought he looked taller and noticed he was wearing polished black boots with heels. His hair was tied with a black ribbon.

  "Our boy looks every bit the artist, doesn't he?"

  "Not only that, he looks like a man."

  "You're right. He's not a boy anymore."

  "It's about time you boys figured that out. Shall we go see him instead of just standing here?" Abby swatted our asses with her fan and made her way over as we followed. As we made our way across the room, I noticed that Patrick was in brown leather, only suede, a white silk shirt, minus the ruffles, and tied back hair. They made a beautiful couple.

  "I've been waiting for you guys to get here!" He handed his bottle of mineral water to Patrick and made a beeline to us, grabbing Abby, then Sebastian, and myself into hugs. "Isn't this awesome!"

  A server stopped by with a tray of champagne and we grabbed ourselves glasses. Margaret tapped her glass with one of her fake, long, polished nails.

  "This is a wonderful beginning for our young artist. I can see great things for him. To Andrew Montgomery Browne." She raised her glass in a toast.

  "To Andrew Montgomery Browne," we said in unison as we clinked our glasses and bottles of mineral water.

  When it was over, Andy waved his bottle. "I need to keep my wits about me tonight."

  Sebastian raised his glass to him. "Smart move. You have your adoring public to deal with tonight. From the looks of it, there are quite a few people interested in your work. I'm very proud of you Andy, you've come a long way from when we first met. We may have helped a little, but it was all down to you."

  I could see Andy's face fill with emotion. "Andy, Sebastian is right. We may have opened the door, but all this…" I motioned around me to the art, the people, "all this is because of your talent. We had nothing to do with that part."

  "Thanks, guys." He sniffed. "Don't get me all blubbery in my big moment here. It'll be embarrassing, okay?" Margaret handed him a handkerchief, and he wiped his eyes, handing it back to her. "My talent may have created this, but you gave me the opportunity. For that I will always be grateful. Also, if it wasn't for meeting you, I never would have met Patrick." He slipped his arm around Patrick's waist and kissed him on the cheek.

  Slipping his hand into Patrick's he grinned. "We have something to show you. Follow us." We went to the center of the exhibit and off to one side was the painting of Patrick under the tree. "We agreed to have it displayed for the opening but not allow it for sale. Look on the back of the brochure."

  Sebastian, Abby, and I turned the brochure over. The painting of Patrick was on the back. Under it was the caption "Natural Beauty." There was also a description that read, "I dedicate this exhibit to Patrick Decker, the inspiration for this painting, and Andrew Montgomery Browne's life partner. Also, to Sebastian Montgomery, Isaac Browne, and Abigail Lee for inspiring me, and guiding me on this journey to where I am today." I looked up at him but couldn't find the words.

  Sebastian slipped his arm around my waist and saved me. "That's beautiful, Andrew."

  "It's also the truth."

  "Andy, I don't know what to say except you're going to make my mascara run, dammit." Abby threw her arms around him, almost knocking the bottle of mineral water out of his hand, before giving him a kiss on the cheek, leaving a dark red imprint.

  A gentleman of around thirty sidled up to Margaret and whispered in her ear. "Andrew, I'd like you to meet Steven Prescott. He has a gallery in Los Angeles."

  He reached out to shake hands. "Andy, I love your work. It's great to meet you."

  Andy plastered on a smile and seemed a little stiff. "Thank you very much. I go by Andrew. Andy is only for my family. It's a pleasure to meet you."

  The poor guy looked embarrassed. "My apologies, Andrew. I'd like to speak with you before you leave this evening about having a showing in my gallery."

  Margaret leaned in close to Andy, whispering in his ear. "Andrew, Steven Prescott's gallery has a wonderful reputation, and a stellar clientele. Be nice."

  "Steven, I'd be very happy to talk to you about showing my work in your gallery." Andy had a genuine smile on his face now.

  It was Margaret's turn to smile. "Gentlemen, why don't we plan on meeting in an hour. It's early, and I'd like Andrew to circulate as it is his night."

  Steven bid his farewell for the moment, and Margaret excused herself to see how refreshments and everything was faring. Andy let out a sigh of relief as Patrick slipped an arm around his shoulder and gave him a hug. "You are a success, Red."

  Andy looked at him a little surprised. "I guess I am."

  Abby raised her glass to Andy. "Kid, you've made it to the big time. That man has an exceptional client base, including some Hollywood bigwigs."

  "No shit!" He looked around to make sure no one heard him.

  "No shit, sweetie. I will get another glass of champagne and see who's here. Catch you later."

  "I have to ask you a question, maybe several." Sebastian piped in, drawing Andy's attention. "First
, I love your outfit, but what brought such a change in your wardrobe?"

  "Patrick and I were out shopping for the opening. We were at Union Square where we were going to shop for suits and he stopped me in the plaza. He looked at me asking why we were there and I said I wanted to look good."

  Andy got this strange little smile on his face. "Patrick asked what did I absolutely want to wear for my debut as an artist and I told him. Shaking his head, he grabbed my hand, and we headed back to the garage under Union Square. He said this place wasn't good enough for what I wanted. We drove to a couple of leather shops and bought the pants, vest, and boots, and found the shirt in the Mission District. He said, as we climbed into the van for the ride home, words I will always remember, 'Always be who you are. That's the man I love'."

  I looked at Andy and knew the transformation was complete. The man that stood before me was whole. He was confident, assured, and knew his direction. He also had a companion beside him that would guide him when needed and protect him.

  "What was your other question, Sebastian?"

  Sebastian looked back at him, and a little smile spread across his lips. "I think you already answered that one. If you have time, can you give us a tour?"

  *****

  Some paintings on display we weren't familiar with. Andy explained that they were pieces he hadn't finished, or were new inspirations from older drawings. Some were from his outings with Abby. It was still what Andy and Sebastian described as impressionist and expressionist, but there were other pieces that were what I called realistic, like the painting of Patrick. There was the nude of the older man that Sebastian told me about. It was amazing how real, and, I guess the only way I could put it was respectful it was of the subject.

  As we turned the corner, we came upon one piece against the back wall that stood alone as if they gave it a place of reverence. It was much larger than the rest, and different in the stark realism it portrayed. Unlike the other paintings that would either display one emotion or another, this piece mixed themes in a subtle contrast, and then threw it in your face. It gathered a crowd in front. I stepped through the group to get a closer look, and to read the caption. It was one word, "Indifference".