Dust to Phallus
Badger had died. As sure as life meets death he had left the blue planet and I was quite alone in the world. Bereft of the man I had loved and cherished for nigh on a decade.
It was hard, it was sad, sure it was and nothing that had ever happened to me before had hit so hard. All the time I was thinking just how wonderful it was to share, not just a deep meaningful relationship, but all the that went with it; the feel of him there beside me, the smell of his pipe and his shaggy tobacco, the touch of his hands fondling and exploring the way only Badger could do, the absoluteness of his fuck warming and gratifying and forever fresh every time we bonded.
Now -all gone forever. All those feelings, the loving and the good times we
shared together, an infinite paradise which I thought would go on and on forever and ever.
But Badger was gone. He was gone for good and for all time. No more Badger, no more...?
I kept telling myself; `life moves on, think of the joy and happiness Badger emitted to you, and vice versa, you made an old man very happy and you know when you found him, in the allotment shed, the secret place where you shared your intimacies. He was just sat there, on his old chair, quite dead but with a smile on his face and a note in his clutched hand."
The old timer knew he was going, sure he did but in the note he apologized in not having brought himself to tell me. But it concluded; "I will be with you very shortly and cherish me, I want that. The delivery man will bring you something very special after I am interred, after I am cremated. We shall be together for always, I promise Peter."
The old guy was nigh on 74 when he died but had the stamina of a guy much younger and was richly gifted with the needs -be that made our intimacies so
very warm and wonderful.
A didn't go to the funeral. I don't think I could have faced that. I wanted to remember him as he was, when I found him with that warm smile on his face. He didn't look at all like I thought a dead person might look and when the paramedics turned up they too could not believe he was gone, until they felt for his pulse.
I cried, sure I did. The Para's asked if I was his son and to save a long explanation I said I was.
I guess I wept on and off for a couple of days after the funeral but three days later, coming back home from work I found a note from the Post Office,
advising that a parcel was awaiting my collection.
It was from a firm called Artmolds and I was curious not having ordered anything from them. Then it occurred to me - the package Badger had mentioned in the note he left.
Collecting it I carefully undid the packaging. A notice accompanied it endorsed "In memory of Badger Holt". Then another note tucked inside which was
obviously composed by Badger, written in a dignified type: "To keep our love alive, and remember I will always be there with you." and when I opened it and saw what was inside I was flabbergasted, a little shocked but then I felt a certain warmth when I saw that it was made from the ashes of Badger Holt deceased.
I had read about ornaments and such like being made of a loved ones ashes; but who would have thought of such a beautiful memoriam than Badger himself.
It came in the form of a perfectly shaped penis in all its erect glory, Badger knew exactly what it would mean to me and I knew it just had to be a perfect replica of the part of him that had given us both so much satisfaction.
I was lost for words, I held it snuggled in the palms of my hands and it was as if a certain radiant warmth flowed into my being.
The cunning old man was still there with me, I felt and heard his voice vibrating through my senses. For as much as if I had heard of such a thing being left by someone else - and maybe considered it a bizarre or even laughable -it was so much more than that.
I instinctively fondled its whole form in my hands remembering the size of Badger, a good seven and a half inches of heaven, I always used to tell him
that, that is was my `seven of heaven and a bit more' and even the form of those beautifully ripe and firm balls were there to make it complete.
I just lay on my bed, snuggled up on the pillow massaging the form against my heart. I was happy again and all the sorrow of Badger having passed on had evaporated, for there were the remnants of the guy I loved with all the fine detail I remembered of Badger when we had those so very intimate times
together.
Flashes in my mind of how he had me tied between two vices on the potting bench and the way he rummaged my hind and dabbled in the delights of poking me with his dibber, the small pointed wooden tool he used to prick out seedlings.
The way he always joked about pricking me with his dibber which was always a delight, especially on a cold morning when a frost had settled on the roof and I was shivering from the cold, having cycled there to see him.
We had so many wonderful times together and Badger as always coming up with some new idea of ways to enjoy me, tying me up in many formulas in order to make my ass more prominent for his enjoyment - and it was a joy the way
he did things to me, I simply loved to be subservient to him and many occasions and loved to be all ass for him, just to feel his excitement come through as he licked and balled me, and at the same time, working his fingers into me, to stretch and prime me for what was imminent – that first touch as his erection found its place and made entry – working into me as I was prompted to help him by wiggling side to side, which made the feel of its bulk seem to vital and soon it was all inside, all seven and a half inches of pure ripe stiff cock, Badger's cock!
It was soon time to undress and I knew what I had to do, Badger would have wanted that for sure and warming my hands, I sunk it into my mouth and there was the familiar scent and taste of him. Whether it was just in my mind psychologically it didn't matter because there, in the sinews of my tongue
I could taste his nectar.
I closed my eyes and felt the feedback - it was as if Badger was there again, I could really feel all those wonderful things he was doing to me as I sucked his pride. The sheer sensual vibrations dancing up my spine as he started to spread my hind apart and tease me up with his fingertips, rimming me there and I felt the the sensation of his tongue licking and doing all those wonderful things lovers do to each other; expressing a mutual love so strong and lasting, then I pushed his replica gradually inside me and it was Badger for real.
I could really feel the throb of his fuck begin to arouse me. Feeling it grow inside me so warm and so wonderful.
"You see, Peter I will forever be there inside and outside you, such is our
special relationship" I could hear Badger telling me. I felt him move there inside me,; opened wide it was lodged firmly inside and I simply relaxed and felt the emasculations gratify my soul. We were spirited together I knew that and I could even feel the way Badger used to grasp me so tightly, when he held me to stabilize me for the most perfect and deeply sensual thrusting fuck.
He was still with me; I heard the familiar sounds as he reached his climax;
.the deep fill of his fuck causing my body to shake. It felt so nice and I so loved his fuck. We were as one, bonded together spirit and soul. I needed for that to continue -in our secret place, no longer in the confined of the potting shed but beneath the cover of my double sized duvet.
And after wards, after the fuck I nourished the feel and taste of his remnant in my mouth and there was the taste of Badger again, combined with mine too, our love juices combined.
So his ashes would never just be sprinkled somewhere, or held in a bottle to be eventually forgotten, because most every night they were warmed in the confines of what he called his tunnel of love and his fuck was forever present given of a love which will last forever, when our combined ashes will mingle and I will feel him there with me all the time.