It’s time for Tuesday Tales!
Welcome back! This week is our picture prompt week and all posts must reflect the chosen image. Our picture prompt posts have to reflect the chosen image and can be no longer than 300 words.
Do bear in mind that these snippets are unedited so please be kind if you find any mistakes.
This story may have gay erotic scenes, strong social issues addressed and mature language. If those things offend now is the time to move onto another Tuesday Tales blog. Thanks for stopping by!
“All teasing aside you look well loved and happy. I’m thrilled for you.” He gave my knobby knee a squeeze. Hector arrived then, slightly rumpled and damp hat on his head, and began handing out presents. I smiled sweetly at Lily’s mother then went wide eyed when Hector placed a small gift in red paper into my hands. Pierre had one as well only his was wrapped in green paper. I threw a glance at Julian who was seated next to his grandmother Iris, a round little lady with silver hair and sparkling brown eyes behind thick glasses. He shrugged.
“We have nothing for you,” I croaked softly.
“You have gifted us with your presence and made my son smile like a loon. That is enough.” Hector patted my shoulder and then returned to doling out gifts. It was not enough at all in my opinion and as soon as I could I’d remedy the situation. Perhaps a lovely gift for New Years? I’d do some shopping online this evening when I returned to the dean’s house.
I removed the wrapping paper from my present. It was David Bryne’s Arboretum book. My gaze flew to Julian who was unwrapping socks. Joey bounded across the room with a brand new rawhide bone while Alexa was playing Spanish Christmas carols throughout the home. The smell of something delicious baking in the kitchen reached my nose.
“I hope you don’t have it,” Hector said as I stared at his son while running my fingertips over the cover of my new book. “Jules said it would be a perfect gift.” Julian gave me quick little pucker of his lips then went back to thanking his grandmother for the hand-knitted socks.
“I don’t have it, no. Thank you. I shall read it cover to cover,” I said and Hector grinned. Pierre had also gotten a book, a memoir about Daniel Day, the famed haberdasher from Harlem. We were both well pleased. The rest of the day grew better and better. The meal was incredible. The foods rich and filling and zesty. Oh my poor Canadian tummy was going to revolt at the spices but Lord was the meal delicious. Julian moved closer as the day wore on, touching me in soft and secretive – and sometimes not so secretive ways – that helped to make me feel as if I belonged here.
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Copyright 2021 ©by V.L. Locey
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