Michael's Final Gift

Michael 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 Michael 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 Michael was gone. He was gone for good and for all time. No more Michael, no more anything. Finite!

I kept telling myself; 'life moves on, think of the joy and happiness Michael emitted to you, and vice versa. You made him 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."

His first words I will always remember, He looked at me saying it was nice to see a girl around doing an allotment, and even better because my plot was adjacent to his. I took to him at once and to be honest, I first thought of him like a sort of father figure, he being at least forty years my senior. But without my even imagining I could fall hook, line and sinker for a guy like Michael . His charisma was electric and this agile girl in her early twenties was already to start again after a disastrous teenage romance which never really got anywhere. Perhaps that is what I wanted without knowing it; an older guy, much wiser and steady, and mature!

His allotment shed was more like a lavish apartment room, all done up with wallpaper and mod con's, step inside and you'd never know it was just a large hut, it even had a very comfortable bed which hinged down from the wall panel and a small twosome sofa. We spent many a wonderful time together in our love nest extraordinaire , as Michael liked to call it.

Michael knew he was going, sure he did but in the note he apologized for not having the courage to tell me. But it concluded; "I will be with you very shortly in a way I think you will 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 Janine."

Michael was nigh on 65 when he died but had the stamina of a guy much younger and was richly gifted with quality and consideration that made our intimacies so very warm and wonderful. I never knew he had heart problem, that's who he died. I hoped I had nothing to do with that after our rather passionate secret times we shared together. I talked to a friend who was a Doctor about it and she consoled me, saying "think of it this way Janine, you gave an old man a lot of joy and happiness in the Autumn of his life, so what was meant was meant, it is quite likely he would have had the heart attack anyway, if he hadn't of known you - because of the stress and strain of being lonely, You out that to rights by all accounts, Janine"

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 daughter 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 Michael had mentioned in the note he left.

Collecting it I carefully undid the packaging. A notice accompanied it endorsed "In memory of Michael Holt". Then another note tucked inside which was obviously composed by Michael, 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 Michael Holt deceased.

I had read about ornaments and such- like being made of a loved one's ashes; but who would have thought of such a beautiful memoriam but Michael himself. I remember one time we talked about how the Japanese excel in sex toys, in making molds of male and female genitalia. He shared my enthusiasm always for good conversation and maybe that is one of the things which drew us together. I recall his mention of cyber skin, also known as thermal plastic, being a brand-name of a soft elastomer material that mimics the experience of human skin; warm and soft to the touch, yet with a firm underlying texture

I thought maybe he was hinting we should try them, little did I know he had something else in mind.

But what emerged from the package came in the form of a perfectly shaped penis in all its erect glory, Michael knew exactly what it would mean to me, and he also knew I wasn't the squeamish type and I knew it just had to be a perfect replica of the part of him that had given us both so much pleasure and satisfaction.

I was lost for words, I held it snuggled in the palms of my hands and it was as if 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 method of retaining ones loved one's ashes --it was so much more than that.

I instinctively fondled its whole form in my hands remembering the size of Michael, 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-like structures were there to make it complete.

In life we named it Freddy which seemed a good name.

I just lay on my bed, snuggled into a pillow, massaging the form touching my heart. I was happy again and all the sorrow of Michael having passed on had evaporated, for there were the remnants of the guy I loved with all the fine detail I remembered of Michael when we had those so very intimate times together.

He was a beautiful guy and his gift was something I could really remember him by, because the ashes were part of the body I adorned so much

Stroking the mold it was so easy to remember the beautiful things we did in our love nest, the time we experimented with the joys of bondage, 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.

Michael made everything seem beautiful and what was important for us was, that we shared laughs too

I fondly remember the time he just kept dropping that dibber in his haste to please me, the times when he had me there for the taking, but kept missing the target. We laughed so much that for a moment he lost his superb erection and I had to start all over with the oral business to get him uo to fine stead. But that was always a joy and made for an extra to what became the most beautiful and intimate episode in the privacy of the love nest supreme

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 Michael as always coming up with some new idea of ways to enjoy me, tying me up in many formulas in order to make my ' beautiful 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 loved to be all ass for him, just to feel his excitement come through as he licked and teased me with his fingertips 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 so vital and soon it was all inside, all seven and a half inches of pure ripe stiff cock, Michael's cock! And now smoothing it in my hands I was eager to feel that in the beautiful form of his ultimate gift.

It was soon time to undress for bed and I knew what I had to do, Michael would have wanted that for sure and warming my hands, I sunk 'Freddy' 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 Michael 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 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 Michael 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, Janine I will forever be there inside and outside you, such is our special relationship" I could hear Michael telling me. I felt him move there inside me,; opened wide Freddy 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 Michael always grasped me so tightly, when he held me to stabilize me for the most perfect and deeply sensual thrusting fuck.

It was like he was still with me, body and soul; I heard the familiar sounds as he reached his climax; .the deep fill of his fuck causing my body to shudder and shake. It felt so perfect and I so loved his fuck. We were as one, bonded together spirit and flesh. I needed for that to continue -in our secret place, no longer in the confines 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 Michael 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.