She continued giving me a wonderful blowjob, stopping occasionally to stroke, fondle, and admire my hard dick and again she would say "you have a beau...tiful dick!… I mean penis!". I've never felt such appreciation for having a "nice dick". She really seemed delighted with it.As I mentioned, this episode started in a beer joint where I was drinking beer, then moved to a small impromptu party where I was drinking whisky, and so I had consumed a fair amount of alcohol. I wasn't drunk to the point. I did my best not to let my worries show. I wanted to present a solid front to my wife and coworkers so they wouldn't worry too much about me, or, even worse, pity me. I wouldn't have been able to stand it if they pitied me.A week went by and I knew it was time for me to get the call, but no call came. They did give me a window during which they'd call, so I decided to give them that time. Each day seemed to drag, every phone call making my heart race until I found out it wasn't the doctor's. Eventually I heard keys in the front door, saw the light as it opened. Sasha came into the dark bedroom. He stood above me, silently looking at me for a moment. ‘Hey, how are you?’ he whispered. ‘I don’t know.’ He sat on the edge of the bed and put his hand on me. ‘What did you do tonight?’ ‘Not much.’ ‘Are you feeling OK?’ I didn’t answer. He didn’t ask again. He got undressed and came into bed with me. He lay close, but didn’t try to embrace me. I was relieved. It occurred to me at last. Not a lot had changed from the last time he was there. Thomas flicked through the CD collection, found HIM's Deep Shadows album and put it on while he looked around a little more. When he did really look, he saw that the furniture had been moved and there was a space of blank floor by the window. A folded up easel leant against the wall and Thomas spotted a sheaf of papers next to it. There were the paintings done during that modelling session and another loose pages of sketches to fill a book..