When I was fifty （2017）
When I was fifty
Dinner was over, and we were in his living room. I was looking at his paintings, but my mind was elsewhere—or more specifically, a few hours earlier.
The moment we’d arrived, however, the evening had turned into a rerun of the previous Christmas Eve. We were scarcely through the door before he was tugging me toward his bedroom, and I’d let him, discarding my clothes before we’d reached the bed.
“Missed you,” he’d gasped as we fell onto it, both of us rocking together, my lips on his face, his neck, his chest…
“Don’t talk—kiss.”
We’d had a year of catching up to do.
And then we get to wait another year. And another. And another.
Was this what my future had become—an endless stretch of years wanting to be with him, punctuated by brief snatches of joy?
“What are you thinking about?”
I jumped. He stood beside me, holding out a champagne flute. “Is it a special occasion?” I asked as I took it.
“Every minute I get to spend with you is a special occasion.” His words held no trace of humor or coquetry.
And the way he locked gazes with me told me the bed might see more action before the night was over.
“I simply wanted to wish you a belated happy birthday.” We clinked glasses. “I hope it was a good one.”
“It was,” I admitted. “Ben and the family came to visit for a week before going to Disney World.” Ben and Layla had been promising the twins a visit since they were old enough to demand to go there.
There had only been one thing that would have made my birthday perfect, and he was standing beside me.
Better late than never, right?
“Now, tell me what’s on your mind. You seemed so far away.”
I sipped my champagne. “I was studying your paintings.” The wall in front of me was filled with them.
“These really are good.” It was easy to spot the differences between his earlier efforts—though none of them were dated, they didn’t need to be—and his most recent work.
The brushwork was more refined, the use of color more sophisticated.
“Thank you. As I told you once, I’ve been working on it for a long time.”
He’d captured the views surrounding his house perfectly. There were stunning landscapes showing the mountains capped with snow, the rolling green hills, the turquoise ocean…
“How much of this landscape have you explored?” I asked.
“Not as much as I’d like.”
“Why not?”
He sighed. “It’s hard to explain, but… When I’m out there, walking through the mountains, or out on the ocean, it feels… It feels too big for just me.”
“And what if we explored it together?”
His breathing caught. “I would love that.”
“Then we will.”
He fell silent for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Actually… There was something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
When he clammed up again, I glanced at him. “Well? Ask me anything. I have no secrets from you.”
Except that wasn’t true, was it? I had a huge secret, one I never intended to reveal.
“Remember last year? We were discussing my painting, and you asked…”
Oh. Now I remembered. “I asked if you’d consider painting me.”
“It’s just that… I’ve never had someone here to sit for me.” He bit back a smile. “Well, I’ve never had someone here, apart from you.”
I cocked my head. “Are you sure about this? I mean, I don’t know how fast a painter you are, but even if you work like the wind, I don’t think you’d finish it before….”
Before I need to leave.
His face lit up. “Yes, I’m sure. Please, say you will.” He peered at me. “Unless you think it would be a waste of our time, you sitting still while I capture you on canvas?”
I grinned. “If you don’t, we’ll end up in bed for the rest of the night.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
But as we’ve already caught up a little…
” I moved closer, until our bodies were almost touching.
“Besides, you were right. We need to make new memories.” I kissed him, then stepped back. “So… how do you want me?”
His lips twitched. “Do I have to answer that?”
Then the light dawned. “Oh. I see. It’s going to be a nude, is it?”
“Would you mind? I’ve never done one before, and I’ll be the only one who will ever see it.”
Of course I didn’t mind. “No, that’ll be okay, but I do have a condition.”
He stilled. “Oh?”
“If I’m going to be nude, then so are you.” I grinned.
He arched his eyebrows. “You want me to paint you, with both of us naked?”
I nodded.
He shrugged. “Well, that’ll be a new experience.”
“Think of it more as an opportunity to find unusual places to put your paintbrush,” I teased. I was thinking more along the lines of what we could do when he took a break. My dick stiffened at the thought.
Well, there had to be some benefits, right?
His eyes twinkled. “In that case, I have a condition of my own.”
Suddenly I had a bad feeling. “Okay,” I said, my tone cautious.
He beamed. “I’ll paint you, but I’m not going to touch you.”
What the—
“Why would you do that? Surely that has to be the whole point of being an artist’s model? I get to fool around with the artist? Isn’t that a time-honored tradition?”
He chuckled. “It may very well be, over in your realm, but here? Tonight? No. There will be no touching—until I finish the painting.”
I gasped. “Please, tell me you’re a fast painter.”
He grinned. “Oh my, no. I’m notoriously slow. After all, time stands still here, so I can take as much of it as I want, can’t I?”
I was beginning to regret agreeing to this, but I wasn’t about to back out. “Okay, do you have a room where you paint, or are we just going to do it here?” I had visions of me posing on the rug in front of the fireplace. At least I’d be warm.
He rubbed his bearded chin. “I was going to ask you to pose on my bed. That way, when we’re not together, I can remember you there.”
I really liked that idea. It was even better than last year’s Polaroids that were pinned to my headboard. I stared at them every night before I switched off the light.
“The bedroom it is, then.”
We went into his bedroom, and I undressed. He disappeared for a moment, returning with his paints and easel, and a fresh canvas.
I stared at it. “Any bigger, and it’ll be life-size.”
He chuckled. “I need a canvas this big to make sure I have enough room for your penis.”
I burst out laughing. “In my dreams, but you sure know how to make a guy feel good.” I held my arms wide. “So… How do you want me?” My dick stood to attention, and I glanced at it. “And you can go back to sleep. He isn’t going to play with you.”
“Lie on the bed,” he instructed. I clambered onto it. “Yes, on your back. One leg bent, your foot on the mattress, your legs spread.”
I did as he requested, aware of my cock rising into the air.
He laughed. “I can see I’m going to need more flesh tint.” He tilted his head. “Are you warm enough?” I assured him I was. “Then let’s begin.”
I coughed. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
He stared at me for a moment, then his eyes widened. “Oops.” He undressed, taking his time.
“It occurs to me you could remove your clothing with a click of your fingers,” I observed.
He grinned. “But where would be the fun in that?”
I glanced at his cock, pointing toward me. “At least you have somewhere to hang your cleaning rag. Or balance a paintbrush, if you’re so inclined.”
“I’m naked because you asked, okay? And now I’m going to forget that, and concentrate on painting you.” His gaze drifted lower, his lips twitching. “I suggest you do the same.”
“Hey, don’t blame me. He has a mind of his own.”
Santa’s eyebrows shot up. “He does, does he?”
I gave him a frank stare. “Are you telling me you don’t refer to your dick as him?” I grinned. “I bet you do. I’d bet you even gave him a name.” Then I snorted. “And I know what it is.”
“I do not have a name for my penis,” he protested.
I wagged a finger. “Aw, come on, you can admit it. There’s only us two here.” I gave him a confident smile. “It’s Rudolph, isn’t it?”
His mouth opened and closed, and his cheeks pinked. “Okay, painting time,” he said in a strangled voice.
It took me five minutes to stop laughing.
We settled into the activity, and astonishingly enough, I did forget about the naked part.
We chatted as he sketched and painted, and I have to say I have never been so relaxed in the presence of another person.
Stripping away our clothes had also stripped away the cares of our lives.
It was as if we’d known each other forever, when what we’d shared amounted to a little over five weeks.
But we’ve poured so much of ourselves into each reunion. No wonder it feels like years.
And yet all the while, I was conscious of time ticking away in my own realm. I knew there would come a point when I would have to go.
I didn’t want to leave, but I couldn’t think like that. I couldn’t let my awareness of my own fragile human existence intrude into this realm, spoiling my time with him.
I was fifty years old, for God’s sake. Who knew how many more encounters would be granted to us?
I gazed at him, at the face I’d grown so fond of—the face of the man I loved.
“Can I ask you something?”
He paused, mid-stroke. “You can ask me anything.”
“I know you said you’ve always looked like this, that you were created at this age. But that must have been a long, long time ago. Do you feel…” I didn’t know how to finish my sentence.
He put his paintbrush down. “You’re asking me if I feel ancient?
” I nodded. He stepped away from the easel and sat on the bed.
“Yes, I’ve always looked like this, but I don’t feel old.
Bringing joy to so many…” His face lit up.
“It’s a blast of energy. It makes me feel alive.
But… I can’t help but see men who resemble me.
They seem afflicted by aches and pains… but I don’t.
” He placed his hand over his heart. “The only ache I feel is in here. And that ache eases with every second I spend with you.”
The sincerity in his voice was unmistakable.