I Love Corey, Chapter Twenty-three

My wake up call consisted of the wonderful feeling of a warm tongue doing some very, repeat very nice things to me even though they were somewhat naughty. When I managed to pry an eye open, I could see a blond headed, blue eyed sex monster taking advantage of me. If my bladder had been a little more cooperative I’m sure we would have had a great time. As it was, things were slightly delayed. I made a dash to the place to relieve myself and I guess Corey thought that was a good idea too. After we shook off, I decided to let him continue having his way with me. I can think of less enjoyable ways to start the morning. In fact, almost any other way is less enjoyable.

We scampered back to bed and he picked up right where he left off. I did manage to get him in a position that enabled me to reciprocate. It was just as good as I remembered. He was a little tangy this morning but not as much as yesterday. A night’s sleep after his shower didn’t really allow for a great increase in the strength of his odor but it definitely was stronger than if he’d just showered. As I enjoyed the feel and taste of his cock in my mouth, I savored his scent. I’m not sure which I liked best? That was a good question. There were arguments to be made for either his flavor or his scent. I guess I’ll just have to admit I’m undecided on that issue. I love either. I also like the fact they come attached to such a cute package. I will say it’s a good thing we were in no hurry to get anywhere. Church didn’t start until ten at St. Luke’s and that gave us lots of time to finish what we had started and still have a nice breakfast.

So, we didn’t get as nice a breakfast as I’d thought we would. We didn’t have time. I just don’t know where time goes when you’re having fun. It must have been all that kissing between rounds. I suppose we could cut back on that but we both enjoy it. Oh well, I guess we can survive on cereal and toast.

Fr. George gave his usual thoughtful homily. I could see Corey was really listening to him. Today’s subject was that God so loved everyone that He gave His only son to save them. We should try to emulate him and love everyone and try to help them. I wondered if Corey had ever been exposed to sermons like that. A lot of ministers seem to think they need to threaten their congregation. I never noticed that that type of sermon did much good.

Fr. George managed to get his message across in a little less than ten minutes. I remembered that Rev. Langston had taken about forty-five minutes to get his message across the one time I had attended his church and I don’t think it was nearly as clear as Fr. George’s. It isn’t the number of words you use, it’s how clearly you express yourself.

While we were getting ready to go to the trap club I took a few minutes to put the ribs in the oven. They’re better when cooked on the barbeque but, since I wouldn’t be home to take care of them, we would just have to get by with cooking them in the oven.

There was a definite improvement in Corey’s shooting. He was much more confident even if he didn’t score all that much better. He’d got over being nervous and was now listening and trying to do what those of us who were coaching him suggested. He was disappointed that his scores weren’t better but seemed to feel better about himself when I explained how and why I thought he was improving. I knew he’d do better with a shotgun that fit him correctly and thought I might take him to a meet next weekend. There are usually some guns for sale at them and if we saw something that might work, it would be better than having to drive to the Bay area to find a dealer that specialized in trap guns. I had no thought that we’d be able to find one that truly fit, but with a good gun, we could then get a stock for it that would fit him.

By the time we got home, the smell of the cooking ribs made both our mouths water. There’s just something about the smell of barbequed ribs that makes my mouth almost drown me with excess saliva. From the sniffs and grins coming from Corey’s direction I figured he was experiencing the same reaction.

I quickly basted the ribs and started on the beans. I’d put them to soak last night so that there wouldn’t be a problem with getting them tender. Some chopped onion, a little garlic, various other herbs and spices and bacon and the beans were started. I still had some things to add, but they should be ready in time for dinner. Besides, I still needed to seed and peel the tomatoes for them.

I hoped Bob liked beans and ribs as he was coming over to finish his printing project. He had some pictures of the new granddaughter he wanted to print. There might even be enough time for him to give Corey his art lesson although Corey seemed happy learning about photography for the time being. I didn’t really think it would make that much difference as he was now to the point where his lessons included a lot of time spent discussing his drawings and showing him ways to improve them. He could continue to draw and they would just have to spend a little more time reviewing them at his next lesson.

Bob walked in just as I was finishing putting the tomatoes in the beans. Between the smell of the ribs and the odors that were just starting to come from the beans, the kitchen smelled pretty good. Bob appeared to have the same problem with saliva as we did. At least he kept having to swallow while he was greeting us.

I’d sent Corey down to prepare the chemicals when we first got home. All that he had to do was get them in the water bath to warm them up. I suddenly realized that he hadn’t come back up and sent Bob down to check on him. When neither returned after a few minutes, I went down to investigate. The door was closed and I could hear the murmur of voices but couldn’t make out the words. When I knocked, Corey yelled to wait a few seconds.

They finally let me in to my own darkroom. I mean it was my darkroom and they’d kept me out. Guess that shows me where I rate.

When they let me in, they were giggling. Corey showed me a picture and I started giggling too. Between the two of them, they managed to explain that Corey had decided to try to make a print before I got down there. Only one problem. He’d neglected to change the color settings on the enlarger head and they were still set for Bob’s negative film. The colors were a little strange to say the least. It was one of the pictures I’d shot of Corey and his hair color was different, so different that I’m not quite sure what to call it. Blond it wasn’t. In fact, the color was so unusual that I have no words to describe it. Bob admitted he couldn’t either.

“Corey, think we ought to take the picture and see if we can get the beauty shop to dye your hair to match?” I managed to get out.

“Where will you get the make-up to make his complexion match?” Bob giggled. 

“You guys,” in a disgusted tone was the best Corey could come up with for a response to our suggestions.

I took a deep breath. “I kind of like the greenish-blue mixed with I’m not sure what else color of his hair but I don’t know about the purplish skin tones. What planet does that make him from?” I started giggling again. I was wondering what color his cock would be if printed with that setting.

“Even the Star Trek make-up people never did that well,” was Bob’s contribution to the conversation.

I finally got my breath. “Well, outside of the color you did fairly well. The density is good.”

“You guys didn’t do any better last night,” Corey whined. 

He was right. Our efforts at coming up with the correct settings had produced some failures last night. Big failures with weird colors. His first attempt was fully as good as our first prints, maybe even better. 

“You’re right. Actually it’s a pretty good first attempt. I didn’t do nearly as well my first time,” I told him. “I washed the colors out. The color balance was a little better but I just went with the recommended filter pack. It took a while to figure things out.”

“You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of,” Bob chimed in. “In fact, I taught a course for a few years and I don’t remember any beginning student doing that well on his first attempt, especially with no instruction.” 

We spent the next few minutes evaluating the print. Hopefully Corey learned something from the discussion. Guess we’d learn if he did on his next attempt.

By the time we got done with our critique of his picture, he seemed to feel better about it. By then, I had to leave to finish dinner. I left them discussing which picture to try next.

After dinner, Bob printed a picture of some mountains that he had taken and told Corey to see if he could make a drawing from it and that would be his art lesson for the week. He reminded him to use the methods he’d learned to create perspective. We then spent the rest of the evening making prints from various pictures Bob and I had taken over the years. By the time Corey let Bob leave for the night, it was late and was time for us to go to bed. The usual shower and we soon were asleep.

To be continued…