Page 21 of The Woodcarver's Model
Mitch slid the tarp off, unveiling a full-sized male nude carved out of wood. It wasn’t one of those chainsaw-carved folk-art pieces Rob had seen in small towns across the country. This was as detailed as any classical Greek sculpture and it seemed alive. Its skin of warm wood shone like it was sweating, and a body like this, all taut muscles and strained ligaments and tendons, would have sweated. Its arms were lifted forward, palms up, as if waiting to catch…something.
“Meet Eric,” Mitch said.
“He’s…beautiful isn’t a strong enough word. He’s a god.”
“Actually, he’s a neighbour. A construction worker, hence the physique—he built Aunt Sarah’s house. That’s how we first met. I stained the wood just slightly to give it that chestnut colour.”
“Gorgeous,” Rob said as he circled the sculpture, staring—its abs, its bubble butt, its penis. He suspected the real Eric would have been as hard as this one.
“Yes, you can touch it.”
Rob ran his hands over the statue.
“Close your eyes while you do it.” Rob did.
“Feel the warmth of the wood,” Mitch instructed.
The sculpture was alive. He was touching the living Eric. He wanted to touch the real Eric. He could imagine the form breathing.
“Do you see what I mean? It’s not like cold marble. Marble never lived. But when you carve wood, the life it once had somehow…returns.”
Rob opened his eyes and saw Mitch before him, naked. His well-worked muscles, glistening with sweat, were accentuated by the light flooding in through the windows. His chest was dusted with black hair, his shoulders and biceps were strong and firm, and the shape of his ass was perfectly round like someone had implanted bowls under his skin. He stood there like Da Vinci’s perfect man, if Da Vinci had given his man an erection. Rob took it into his hand.
“I thought you said this place could be hazardous to these.”
“Well, normally yes, but I put all of the sharp tools out of the way.”
Rob lowered Mitch onto the canvas that had covered the sculpture and began to caress, to taste, to consume him, starting with the toes and working up. He gorged himself on Mitch’s testicles, choked himself on his cock. He felt the urge to turn this into a pagan ritual by devouring this sacrifice, then giving himself up to it. Rob stripped and mounted Mitch, impaling himself on his erection, now slick with saliva and Mitch’s own fluids. Sweat poured from him as he rode Mitch’s shaft. He had never wanted to be part of someone as much as he did at this moment. He was giving a part of himself that he hadn’t given to anyone since Kevin, and nothing seemed more right.
Mitch thrashed in ecstasy as Rob caressed his nipples, then howled as he orgasmed. After his breathing returned to normal, he raised up his face to Rob’s, and kissed him deeply as he turned the two of them until Rob was lying on the table, then Mitch took Rob’s erection in his mouth and brought him to a rapid climax.
They lay on the work canvas, warmed by the late-afternoon sun. The sculpture of Eric looked down on them.
“Please tell me you’ve tried that?” Rob asked, pointing to Eric.
“Wouldn’t you like to see the video?”
“There’s a video?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
And Rob obeyed.
Chapter Nine
They got out of the large shower and Rob said, “Tonight I make dinner.”
“Well, let’s just see how you do and whether I keep you around,” Mitch teased.
“I thought I’d already proven my usefulness.”
Mitch smiled and said, “Well, something more can always be said for the multi-talented male.”
As the lamb was marinating, Rob began to make notes on the day’s activities, thoughts which could be used as the basis for the article.
I have spent the whole of my professional life travelling to the far-reaching corners of the Earth in search of adventure, a decade and a half of travelling to, what for me, were exotic places, and I have just learned something—every place is exotic if you don’t live there. Exoticism is perceived as a function of distance—the farther we travel to obtain something, the more alluring the prize. We forget that what we find in our own backyard is exotic to someone halfway around the globe.
After dinner, they sat on the porch and watched the light of the setting sun play on the distant shore of the mainland.
