This work is not intended as an infringement upon the rights of those that own these characters and is meant solely for non-profit entertainment purposes only.  Original characters--Sharrie, Dawn and Chloe do belong to me and I'll play with them as I see fit. ;-)

Young love relationship. James is in high school.

This story is a sequel to: Work of Desire, Chapter 14

"Marvelous meal, ladies. Thanks for inviting us over." Simon leaned back in his lawn chair and unsnapped the button on the waistband of his slacks. A husky chuckle preceded the hand that slipped inside his loosened pants and stroked the underside of his belly.

"Looks like someone ate one too many pieces of pecan pie." James tilted his chair even closer to that of his lover's and licked clean the smear of whipped cream that clung to Simon's bottom lip. "Extra laps for you tonight in the pool. Don't want my He Man turning into a tubby chubby."

"Who ate three helpings of Sharrie's seasoned potatoes?" Simon caught James by the back of his neck and kissed him hard.

"Gotta keep up my strength, if you know what I mean." Chuckling, James returned the kiss, adding just enough tongue to make his older lover slightly breathless.

"Tell me again why I put up with you?" Simon asked as he reached for his glass of ice tea.

"No can do. It's a national secret."

`WRORF!'

"Sorry, old man," the teen said in apology to Jeffery, whose tail was almost flattened when James lowered his chair back down to the ground. Grabbing a piece of leftover steak from his plate, he tossed it to the yellow Lab and laughed when the guide dog came begging for more. "You're just like your master . . . a bottomless pit."

Redirecting his attention to the couple sitting across from him, James asked, "How'd the two of you lezzies hook up?" While waiting for an answer, James turned sideways in his chair and propped his broken leg on top of Simon's thighs. "Much better."

"Would you please quit calling us that?" Dawn reached across the patio table and collected her guests' dirty dishes. "The correct term is lesbians."

James replied with a mischievous grin and a loud snort. Ignoring the redhead staring daggers at him, he glanced over at Sharrie. "What in the world made you fall in love with Miss Sour Puss there?"

"I'll let you in on a secret." Sharrie watched the sexy sway of her partner's hips as she walked by on her way to the kitchen.

"What? What's the secret?" James followed the direction of Sharrie's gaze and rolled his eyes when he realized what she was looking at.

"Dawn's the best kisser I've ever had the privilege of locking lips with." The older woman laughed when James pretended to gag. "In fact, I bet she kisses as good, if not better, than Simon." She shared a grin with James as she called over her shoulder. "Dawn? Come give James a kiss. He doesn't believe you're the best kisser in town."

James tilted his head to the side and an astounded look came over his face. "Wow! Kissing ain't the only thing her mouth is good for. Didn't your momma tell you proper ladies don't cuss like that?" James caught the towel that was thrown at his head and tossed it right back at the woman now standing behind Sharrie. "Your momma would be shocked to hear some of the words that just came out of your mouth."

Dawn slid her arms around Sharrie's shoulders and kissed her on the cheek before looking across the table at James. "If my momma knew you, she would not only understand my need to cuss but would probably encourage me to do so."

James flipped Dawn the bird before returning to the subject at hand. "So, how did the two of you meet? At some lesbo club? A march for gay rights?"

Sharrie pulled Dawn down onto her lap and gave her a stern look before answering Simon's young lover. "Actually, we met right here. Remember, Simon?"

Simon nodded as he repositioned James' casted leg into a more comfortable position. "You had just launched your magazine and I was to be your first cover story, if I remember correctly."

Sharrie lifted a strand of Dawn's hair from her neck and pressed a kiss to the exposed skin. "That's right. I was told to wait in your studio and had just gotten off the phone . . . .

<><><><><><><><>

"I don't care whose pierced clit you're admiring, Marla. Drag your skinny ass out of bed, grab your camera and get over here as fast as you can. We can't afford to screw up this interview."

Alerted by Marta that Mr. Banks' two o'clock appointment had arrived, Dawn hurried out of the bathroom and made it to the studio's entrance just in time to hear the tail end of the woman's conversation. "Oh my!" she exclaimed as she entered the room and got her first look at the editor and owner of the newest lesbian journal, Women Who Dare.

Sharrie Davies was a few inches shorter and a good deal heavier than Dawn. Chestnut curls framed her round face, drawing attention to her amazing green eyes and full lips which, at that moment, were pulled downward in a frown. Dawn allowed her gaze to momentarily drop to the woman's generous bosom and she found herself blushing at the thoughts that rushed through her mind.

Clearing her throat, she took a step forward and introduced herself. "Ms. Davies, I'm Dawn Trently, Mr. Banks personal assistant."

"Call me Sharrie, please." Sharrie shook hands with the younger woman and took a moment to do some of her own looking. Feeling an instant attraction to the tall, willowy redhead, she offered a smile. "Sorry about that." Sharrie waved her cellphone in the air, indicating the conversation Dawn had overheard upon her arrival. "My ex-wife tends to get a little forgetful when she's in the throes of passion with her newest love interest."

"Ex-wife?" Dawn took another assessing glance at the woman strolling through Simon's studio and decided she definitely liked what she saw. Ms. Davies was, indeed, a little on the plump side but that didn't bother Dawn. She'd take curves over bones any day of the week. "Your ex-wife is your photographer?"

Sharrie tapped the bare ass on one of Simon's nude sculptures. "Yes. Marla's great with the camera and because our breakup was amicable, I saw no reason to fire her. Business is business." Sharrie looked up and captured Dawn's gaze. "And pleasure is pleasure."

Drawn to the older woman, Dawn moved closer and found herself suggestively stroking the opposite buttcheek of the sculpture Sharrie was contemplating. "Simon will join us in a few minutes. He's on the phone with his lawyer right now."

The two women maintained eye contact as they continued to stroke the nude sculpture, their fingers occasionally touching. Sharrie was the first to break the silence.

"Your employer seems to be fascinated with the male form, the naked male form to be exact. Is there a reason Mr. Banks doesn't sculpt women?"

The older woman's gaze made it quite plain to Dawn who she thought Simon should be sculpting next and the redhead felt the heat of embarrassment stain her cheeks again. Tearing her gaze away from the mesmerizing eyes of emerald green, she coughed nervously and answered, "Mr. Banks prefers men."

"In more ways than one." Sharrie shared a knowing smile with the attractive assistant. "It's quite unusual for an acknowledged gay artist to receive as much recognition and praise as Mr. Banks has garnered over the past year. As we both know, he is quite outspoken about his sexuality. Not to mention, an avid supporter and generous contributor to several well-known gay organizations, my publication included."

Sharrie moved to the largest of the sculptures on display in the studio. "Society normally doesn't welcome such notoriety, especially from the gay community. What makes your employer so special?"

Dawn took up a position directly behind Sharrie and indicated the sculpture in front of them. "Look at the naked emotions Simon has captured with this piece. The young boy's anger, his confusion, his desperation. They're all right there for you to see. On his face, in the way he's clinging to his injured lover. The emotions are so real, you almost find yourself stepping forward to help him with his fallen companion."

"And then there's this one." Dawn indicated a piece near the door. "Yes, it's a sculpture of two men kissing, but look at their faces. Can you see the wonder, the shyness? Without even being told, you just know they're sharing their first kiss. It's in the way they're looking at each other, in the way one is gently caressing the other's cheek." Dawn placed a reverent hand on the taller of the two sculpted men. "What I wouldn't give to be kissed like that."

Sharrie stepped forward and covered Dawn's hand with her own. "Maybe I could . . . . "

"Ms. Davies? Your daughter is in need of your attention."

Dawn felt an acute sense of loss when Sharrie removed her hand and she made no effort to contain her sigh of discontentment. Following the older woman, she was surprised to find Marta standing in the doorway of the studio, holding a toddler in her arms.

Offering her thanks, Sharrie took the child from the housekeeper and laughed as she tossed the curly-haired tot into the air. She plastered a kiss to the baby girl's diapered tummy before turning and introducing her to Dawn. "This wicked thing is Chloe, my daughter. She is my entire world and I never go anywhere without her."

Upon seeing Dawn, Chloe immediately thrust out her chubby arms and Dawn was helpless to resist the toddler's request. She hugged the child close and gasped when Chloe nuzzled her way inside Dawn's loose-fitting blouse and attempted to latch on to one of her unfettered breast.

"Seems my daughter has the right idea, if you ask me." Sharrie rescued Dawn from her hungry child and couldn't help but chuckle at the shocked look on the redhead's face. "Now, that is something I would love Mr. Banks to sculpt. My Chloe nursing at your breast. It would, indeed, be a work of art."

Dawn slipped her hand inside her blouse and pressed it against her chest. She had never before experienced such a strong attraction for another woman. The thought of doing exactly as Sharrie suggested left her breathless. "I . . . Me? A work of art?"

Both women were so caught up in each other, they completely missed Simon's arrival. The black artist appeared at Dawn's side and offered his hand to Sharrie.

"Well, Ms. Davies. If my assistant is agreeable, maybe we could make a private arrangement."

<><><><><><><><>

Sharrie smiled at the black artist sitting next to her and briefly touched his hand. "You still owe me that sculpture, Simon."

"Indeed, I do." Simon reached down and carefully picked up the child that was sleeping on a blanket beside Jeffery. "We may need to rethink the subject matter. I do believe this little one is beyond the nursing stage."

Sharrie wrapped her arms around Dawn's narrow waist and kissed her softly on the mouth. "I say let's stick with the original idea."

James leaned over and playfully tugged on Chloe's blonde curls. "Yeah, but Chloe's too old. You'd have to get a new . . . . " The teen eyed the suggestive way Sharrie was rubbing Dawn's tummy. "Oh for god's sake! Don't tell me you're . . . . " He gestured at Dawn. "You can't be serious. Red's way too old to be having a baby."

Sharrie shook her head adamantly. "Nonsense. Dawn is only 34 years old. Perfect age to bear our child." She winked up at her partner. "Find the right donor and we could give Chloe the perfect present on her next birthday . . . a little brother or sister. What do you think, my love?"

James grunted as he lifted his leg off of Simon and placed it on the ground. Grabbing up his crutches, he backed away from the table. "You're both certifiable nuts. Come on, Simon. I don't like the way those two are eyeing you."

James placed his hand over Simon's groin once the black man had relinquished his hold on the sleeping child and stood up. "This sperm is mine, ladies. And don't you forget it!" Unwilling to wait for his lover, James took off, moving as rapidly as his crutches would allow down the flower and shrubbery laden pathway that led back to Simon's house. He stopped beside the small pond that marked the halfway point between the two homes and waited for Simon to catch up with him.

"That was extremely rude of you, James," Simon commented the moment he arrived at his young lover's side. "You need to go back and apologize to Sharrie and Dawn."

"Yeah. I guess. Maybe." James stared at the reflection of the moon on the smooth surface of the pond. "It's just . . . . " The surly teen grew silent.

"It's just . . . what?" Simon leaned over and released Jeffery from his harness. "Your comments were totally uncalled for, that's what. Sharrie and Dawn have every right to bring a child into this world if they so desire."

"But not yours."

Simon almost didn't hear the teen's whispered reply. "I beg your pardon. Do you have a problem with me donating my sperm so that they may have a child together?"

"Yes!" James nearly shouted his answer. "I don't want you to do it."

Shaking his head in utter confusion, Simon reached out for his lover and managed to locate and grip James' shoulder. "Why? Why are you making such a big deal of this? It's not as if Sharrie and Dawn are actually making plans to have a child. It was just a random thought brought on by a memory from the past. A past, I might add, that was dredged up by you." Simon tightened his grip on James' shoulder and shook him slightly. "What's got into you, Tiger? Why are you so against me having a child with those two wonderful ladies?"

James shrugged off Simon's hand and hobbled a short distance away from him.

Unable to follow, Simon tucked his hands inside the pockets of his slacks and called after his lover. "James? What's wrong?" The teen's refusal to speak tested Simon's waning patience. "James! Answer me!"

"You'll dump me, that's why!" James yelled, nearly tumbling to the ground when he whipped around on his good leg to face Simon. "You'll get all chummy with them and the baby and, next thing I know, I'll be out on my ass because you're too busy with your new son or daughter." James fought for control, clenching the handgrips on his crutches so tight his knuckles turned white. "It'll be just like it was when Stevie was born. I ceased to exist the moment Dad saw him. Stevie was the perfect Ellison offspring, Dad liked to say all the time. Meaning I wasn't. And when I started screwing up because of my . . . ."

James bit off his last words. "Do what you want, Simon. What the fuck do I care. Ain't like I haven't been down this road before." Simon lunged in the direction of James' voice and captured the silent teen with his arms. Ignoring the pain in his injured hand, he held James tight, refusing to allow him to escape. "God knows you should understand this by now, but maybe you don't because I haven't said it enough for you to really believe it." Simon knocked James' crutches to the ground, making the teen dependent on him for support. "I love you, James Joseph Ellison. And NOTHING AND NO ONE is going to change that. I will not throw you out on your ass if, by some unforeseen miracle, Sharrie and Dawn do decide to include me in their plans to have a baby."

Simon pulled James into a rib-crushing embrace. "Don't you understand the baby would be theirs, not mine? Yes, I would be the biological father and would, with their permission, offer my financial support to the child. But that's it." Simon carded his fingers through James' hair as he tucked the teen's head beneath his chin. "I realize we've never discussed the subject of children and mainly that's because there's never been a need to do so. My agenda for the future does not include children. It never has."

Simon caught James' chin with a finger and, upon coaxing him to lift his head, kissed the teen soundly. "My agenda does, in case you're wondering, include you. And as far as I'm concerned, that's enough for me."

The hint of a grin touched Simon's mouth. "Unless, of course, you want to have a baby with Sharrie and Dawn. If that's so, I may have to rethink my plans for the future." The artist rubbed his chin in a thoughtful manner. "I guess with you being a first-time father at such a young age, I could be the child's . . . hmmm . . . grandparent?"

James lightly punched his lover in the stomach before sucking the breath out of him with a heart-stopping kiss. "Okay, I get the picture. I'm an idiot. I over-reacted. It's just that . . . . " James twisted around and propped his back against Simon's chest while encouraging the older man to hold him closer. "I don't want to share you with anyone, Simon. Not right now, at least. You're the one good thing in my life and I don't want anything, or should I say anyone to jeopardize that. Sounds selfish, I know but that's how I feel."

Sliding his hands down the length of James' thighs, Simon nuzzled his lover's neck and whispered, "You can be as selfish as you want, Tiger. With one condition, though."

James caught one of Simon's hands and slipped it under his shirt, groaning softly when the man's talented fingers pinched both his nipples. "Condition? What condition?"

Simon slipped his injured hand inside the front of James' jeans, allowing it to savor the heat of the youth's body. "That you allow me to be just as selfish. I don't want to share you with anyone either, James."

"Don't think you have to worry about that, babe." James clasped his hands behind Simon's neck and nipped at the dark skin covering his throat. "I'm all yours, now and forever."

Remaining silent, Simon tightened his hold on James and, once again, pushed all his doubts concerning their future to the farthest corners of his mind.

End Work of Desire, Chapter 15 by Angelise: ldcldc@earthlink.net

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