Date: Mon, 03 Jan 2000 23:49:38 PST
From: Robert J. Cutter <cutter57@hotmail.com>
Subject: "MY MELANCHOLY DANE - Chapter 3 (Man/Boy/Interracial/Incest)

Disclaimer:   The following is a boy love story.  It is also interracial and
incestuous in nature.  It is a work of fiction; all characters are
fictitious as are all situations.

Author's Note: Please take a minute to e-mail me any comments you have about
this story.  I appreciate anything that you, the reader, have to say; this
is my only way of knowing what kind of job I'm doing and if they are
worthwhile.  I am at: cutter57@hotmail.com.  Please include /RJC57/ on the
subject line of the e-mail and I will answer all.  Thanks.


			     MY  MELANCHOLY  DANE
			------------------------------

	 Copyright (c) 2000 by Robert J. Cutter - All Rights Reserved

The author retains all rights to this story. It is not permissible to
distribute it to any newsgroups and/or other web sites without the express
written consent and permission of the author.


			Chapter 3 - My Angel Arises

When I awoke the room was completely dark.  For a moment I really didn't
know where I was.  Then I felt a luxurious body stretched out on top of me
and I knew I knew it was Simon - my Simon, my wonderful, beautiful,
breathtaking Simon.

I felt the boy stir a little; it felt so marvelous against my body.  It was
so gentle, and erotic - the feel of this exquisite boy sent wave after wave
of pleasure and serenity - and lust - coursing through my entire body.  It
was so comforting - I could sense every part of his body as it lay on mine.
I was relaxed but also quite extremely excited.  I brought my hand up and
lay it on his beautifully rounded butt cheeks and slowly stroked and petted
them.  His face was buried into my neck and I could feel his hot breath
every time he exhaled.  The slow repetitive pattern was both calming and
agitating.  It was great.  I was slowly being tortured and soothed
simultaneously.

I don't know how long we remained this way.  When Simon began to stir I
turned on the small lamp by the bed and looked at his angelic face.  Angelic
was a total and complete understatement - Simon was the epitome of boyhood
beauty.  His beauty would have inspired Renaissance and Baroque painters to
heights of rapture and they would have created masterpiece after masterpiece
forever making permanent Simon's unique beauty.

I knew for sure that his exquisite beauty was most definitely inspiring this
artist.  At that moment I knew my fate; I knew that my duty in this life was
to capture Simon as best my talents would permit.  I felt humble in the face
of such surpassing magnificence.  But I knew my fate and I accepted it
ompletely.

"Simon?"  I was speaking quietly and slowly, and to my great surprise, quite
shyly.  "Simon, can I.can I, you know, have your permission to...you know,
to touch and kiss you...and your absolutely magnificent...fabulous
body...uh...now?"

"Of course, uncle."  He gave out a beautiful chuckle.  It took my breath
away by its carefree attitude and lilting quality.  "Absolutely!  That is
why mama has sent me here to be with you."  I was absolutely flabbergasted
at his last comment.  My jaw sagged and from the look on his face I could
see that he was surprised at my reaction.  "What's wrong uncle?"

"You said your mama, my sister, sent you here to be with me so that we...we
could be...together?"

"Yes, uncle.  Do you not know that?"

I shook my head very slightly.  "No," I said in a low voice.

"Why should that surprise you, uncle?  Mama knows that you are very lonely
here in America and that I am lonely also in Germany.  I think she had a
very good idea.  Do you not also think so?"

I looked up and smiled at him; he smiled right back.  "I think she had an
absolutely marvelous idea."  I leaned over and kissed him softly on his
sensuous, laughing lips.  "And the story of you having trouble in school and
with the authorities..."

"Not all was true.  Yes, I did have some trouble in school."  He hesitated
slightly and looked away from me.  "One of the older teachers seemed to be
in love with me and was making movements towards me.  But that was all and
he was disciplined; that was the end of the situation."

"I see," I said still slightly stupefied.  "So why did Maria decide to send
you to America?"

"It was my decision, uncle.  I wanted to come here to America and to be with
you."

"You wanted to live with me?"  I was flabbergasted!  "Why?"

"I thought it would be great fun," he said, giving me a great big smile.
"Also, when I see pictures of you that momma showed and I knew you were so
handsome and I knew in myself that I wanted to be with you and to live with
you here in America.  I also remember when you visited last to Germany and
how much fun we had together."

We smiled at each other and I moved to wrap my arms around his beautiful and
thoroughly enticing body.  He moved close to me and threw his arms around
me.  We held each other closely and tightly and kissed passionately.  "This
boy was sent to me," I kept thinking over and over again.  "What an
incredible gift.  What a marvelous gift!  That's what it is - a gift, and a
gift that I must repay as best I know how."

He lay back.  I looked over at his naked body, stretched out, as it was, on
his half of the bed.  Simon was a thrilling sight - overwhelmingly beautiful
and desirable.  I began to sketch him on a pad I always carried with me.  He
seemed delighted and posed fetchingly.

That face!  That incredibly face!  It was a miraculous combination of beauty
and sweetness.  Perfectly oval in shape, everything in flawless combination,
Simon's face was a marvel of sensuality and wholesome boyishness.  His
blonde hair, cut relatively short on the sides and back, with long strands
in the front to frame and highlight the incredible beauty.  Those strands
were graduated with the longest ones coming down to the middle of his
cheeks.  I just wanted to kiss each and every hair - he was so delicious.

And the eyes!  I realized that his eyes were not pure blue but had some gray
in them.  Those magnificent blue-gray eyes!  They seemed to change color
with the change in lighting and even with Simon's temperament - sometimes
more blue, sometimes more gray.  But always startling and always riveting -
and totally alluring.  They just sucked me in.  Blonde-brown eyebrows, that
were widely separated and almost straight, framed his eyes - they had very
little curve to them, and were moderately thin.  His eyelashes were blonde
but did not give his eyes a washed out appearance as many blondes have.

His beautiful slightly pug nose, rosy, incredibly sensuous full lips, the
ideal size of his mouth, perfect chin and the sprinkling of beautiful
freckles completed a face to die for - or rather, to live for.  The
proportions of his face were breathtaking - the size of his chin, the
distance between his nose and lips, the fullness of his cheeks, the
dimensions and shape of his ears.  The face...the face of perfection, the
face an artist craves to find.

I busily sketched three wonderfully detailed examples of Simon's
immaculately beauty face.  I asked him for different expressions and he
willingly and wonderfully complied.  What a perfect model he was going to
be; I knew it!.

I then did four sketches of his magnificent body; the word magnificent does
not begin to do him justice.  I only hope that I can accomplish in my art
what I cannot possibly do in writing.  That is why I became an artist and
not a writer.

Simon's faultless neck led to his magnificent body - an epitome of boyhood
beauty.  I will freely admit that I may be overstating the qualities and
scope of his raging beauty because I was so much in love with him.  But
these truths are not overly exaggerated or intentional.  This body that must
be
preserved for all time.  The slimness of his arms, the incredibly taper of
his thighs, the beautiful lower legs, the evenness of his magnificent torso
- each part put together to create a creature of consummate glory.  A light
sprinkling of beautiful blonde hair on his lower legs and arms added to the
fabulous allure of this splendid creature, my most wonderful Simon.

And then, of course, there were his magnificent genitals - that wonderful
package that drew me to him with tremendous lust and unqualified longing.
They were so stunning, so inviting and so ready to be loved.

I put down my sketchpad and kissed my Simon.  It was delicate and I slowly
ran my hand down the side of his body during the kiss.  I could feel Simon
beginning to breath more and more deeply - and so was I.  I brought my hand
gradually back up his body, dragging it across his chest until it was
resting
on his nipples.  I rubbed my palm over his glorious little nipple and felt
the little point grazing my hand.

I looked at his face again and it brought tears to my eyes.  I was so
unbelievably happy!  He was so incredibly beautiful and loving.  He gave me
the softest smile and brought one finger to his lips and kissed it.  He
slowly moved the finger to my lips and I also kissed it.  I opened my lips
and slowly drew that lovely finger into my mouth and gently began to suck on
it.  What a divine feeling - what a glorious thrill.  I sucked harder and
Simon began to groan a little.  While sucking on his finger I continued to
work my hand over his magnificent, erect nipples and luxuriated in the feel
of his magnificent chest.

I continued to move my hand down until I was stoking his velvet soft thighs.
  It was truly glorious.  The skin of those thighs could not have been
softer and more luxurious to the touch.  I thought my brain would
short-circuit trying to assimilate the myriad of new sensations being sent
to it at such a steady rate.

I looked down at his little penis straining and twitching so invitingly.  I
knew I could not ignore it too much longer.  But first I wanted to taste
more of his luscious and alluring skin - that skin, which seemed to give off
a power and radiance of its own.

I lowered my head and delicately and slowly began to lick the creamy skin of
his thighs.  I could feel the muscles beneath - those wonderfully as yet
undeveloped young boy muscles.  He tasted fantastic - and my tongue
luxuriated in the marvelous use it was being put to.  It was all so
exciting.  I could feel my cock moving over his lower legs; I knew I was
coating the kid with my pre-cum.

I breathlessly worked my way up his inner thighs.  The closer I got to his
delightful boy equipment the wider he spread his legs, until I was able to
see his gorgeous little opening.  I picked my head up to get a complete view
and I was awestruck.  This most private of areas was beautiful beyond
reasonable belief.  The smoothness, the roundness, the seeming perfection of
it all was sorely trying my capacity for rational thought.

I moved one hand until it was gently stroking his thighs and leisurely moved
it to the area of my fascination.  When I reached his butt, I let one finger
lovingly and lingeringly play on his crack as I moved my mouth to his
crotch.  The area above his most inviting genitals was beautiful - so
inviting and so
tantalizing.  I nuzzled and kissed the delicious, smooth, delightfully
rounded mound above his dick.  I let my tongue lap at this most marvelous
skin.  It was so enjoyable, so velvety, had such a wonderful taste, that I
thought I would never leave.

But I did leave, and slowly brought my mouth to the head of his absolutely
exquisite and straining dick.  I kissed it and licked it all over.  Simon
was going absolutely crazy but still I continued.  I took the covered head
into my mouth and sucked on it very gently.  His rather long foreskin began
to retract but continued to cover the target of my quest.  I let his boy
dick slip from my mouth and with my other hand I gently and unerringly
peeled back that luscious piece of intact flesh.  The head was pink,
beautifully shaped and just magnificent.  His slit was quite small and so
incredibly cute.  Simon's dick was absolutely everything I knew it would be.

I blew a warm stream of my breath over the head and Simon reacted as I had
hoped he would; his body began to shake and he babbled something in German.
I was delighted to see him behaving so uncontrollably.  It actually gave me
a great thrill having him react so strongly to my lovemaking.

I lowered my head and began to lick that superb little head.  God!  The
taste was redolent of young boy and filled my mouth.  I inhaled deeply to
capture every single subtle essence of this marvelous boy, while continuing
to work my tongue over that delicious piece of flesh.

Simon was incredibly hard.  God!  The joys of being young.  I slowly began
to move down the shaft of his fabulous dick, bobbing my head, sucking and
stroking everything with my tongue, until my lips reached that glorious
mound again and touched his wonderful sac.  The constant motion of my tongue
seemed to be driving Simon bonkers.  He was bucking and moaning and flailing
his arms.  I gently rubbed his ball bag and tried to grasp his little balls
with my hand while sucking delicately on his dick.  I could feel them
floating around but I could not grasp them.  I removed my mouth from his
dick (I
most certainly needed to return to it soon) and began to lick that
scrumptious scrotum - that beautiful, endearing little ball bag.

I felt myself getting extremely lightheaded as I first licked, then sucked
and finally took Simon's entire sack into my mouth.  It was a delight, a
delight the likes of which I had never, ever known before - never
experienced in my life - my very promiscuous life.  I rolled his little
balls around and around, delighting in their feel, their free-floating feel
- and the taste and smell of his ball sac.  God!  What exquisite pleasure it
gave me!  What enormous pleasure Simon gave me!  This marvelous boy was here
with me - a gift, a generous sublime gift - and I knew we were destined to
be with each other forever.

Meanwhile, Simon was screaming his head off!  He was making the most ungodly
sounds.  I thought it was just wonderful!  To get this kind of reaction from
him - from my wonderful, beautiful boy - was absolutely exhilarating.  I
took his dick in my mouth again and started sucking that gorgeous head again
- that warm, luscious tasty head.  I slowly let my mouth descend that shaft
while continuing the sucking and licking.  I brought one hand up to his
beautiful ball sac and gently took hold.

Between the sucking of his dick and the squeezing of his balls I knew Simon
was ready to have his boy orgasm soon.  His beautiful body started bucking
and twisting - and the noises he was making!  I was totally gratified - I
adored everything about making love to this marvelous creature.  I only
hoped
Simon was feeling good about it.  Judging from his reactions, I was sure he
was.

He came with his dry boy orgasm and it was shattering.  I was hard pressed
to keep his fabulous equipment in my mouth while he gyrated on the bed.  The
noise was ear splitting!  Simon was obviously have a magnificent time and
the feel of his dick in my mouth - pushing and thrusting and growing and
driving as far as it could possibly go - was overwhelming.  I could never
remember being so incredibly hot - and my reaction was demonstrated as I
shot another big load, this time right onto parts of Simon's body and the
bed.

I released his dick quickly after his orgasm and flopped back on the bed.  I
was feeling so marvelous...and so grateful...and so loving...and loved...and
so exhausted.

After a few minutes of heavy breathing and settling down, Simon turned to me
and gave me a big smile.  He crawled into my arms and I cuddled him.  He
kissed me and I returned the pleasure.

"That was incredible, uncle.  It was the best...the very, very best.  I love
you."

I became slightly teary eyed.  "And I love you so much, my precious Simon.
You are the best thing to ever happen to me."  He snuggled closer and we
held each other in a wonderful and comforting embrace.

Suddenly Simon said that he was very hungry.  I knew I was also feeling the
need to eat.  We cleaned up quickly, then dressed warmly and went out.
Winter in Atlanta can be nasty and it certainly was that night - cold, windy
and rainy.  We found a small place that specialized in southern barbecued
pork and went in.  Simon loved it - this kid could not eat enough ribs.  He
also loved the side dishes - dirty rice, okra, coleslaw and black-eyed peas.
  Plus all the iced tea he could drink.  We were both stuffed when we got
out.

We joked as we walked slowly back to the hotel.  Simon seemed to be in a
very good mood and so was I.  When we got to the room, he asked, "What time
are we going to be leaving tomorrow, uncle?"

"Well, I figured we should get an early start and that way we'll be in New
Orleans by late afternoon.  And we'll be home - in my apartment and you'll
be able to settle in.  Then the next day I'll register you in school and
we'll begin our life together as a family."

Simon gave me a great smile when I said this last part.  "That is wonderful,
uncle.  I can hardly wait!"  Neither could I!

		----------------------------------------

That night we slept comfortably together.  I could not remember a better,
more comfortable and thoroughly restful night sleep in my life.  Simon clung
to me and I clung to him.  It was wonderful and so satisfying.  The warmth
and smoothness of his prepubescent body was a balm to my soul and made right
anything that I had worried or fretted about.

The next morning we packed, and were on the interstate by 6 AM.  The drive
was uneventful and pretty easy, except for some rain and Simon loathing the
music on the radio.  He simply hated country and most rap music.  We stopped
for breakfast and lunch in places just off the road, and at both we received
some uncomfortable stares from the patrons; I sure the idea of a black man
with a white kid was repugnant to them.  I also think that my car was the
only one in the parking lots - the rest were pickup trucks, festooned with
gun raks.  For a black man in this part of the south it was quite
frightening.

When we arrived in New Orleans it was raining, of course.  The sky was very
low and the general atmosphere of the place was one of overwhelming gloom.
But I was happy; Simon was with me and he was so very excited about being
home.  He commented about everything - the flatness of the land, the big
hotels, the torn up highways, the number of taxis, the Mississippi River,
the Super Bowl, Lake Pontchartrain.

When we arrived at the converted warehouse/factory that was my home he
practically leaped from the car.  He raised his arms, seemingly to embrace
the building.  He then wrapped his arms around his body smiling broadly all
the time.  I stood behind him and wrapped my arms around his beautiful and
loving body.  We stood that way for about five minute.  I relished the feel
of his body against mine.

"This is so beautiful, uncle."

"Beautiful?  I've heard it called many things but never beautiful."

"It is...it is!  The beautiful shape of the building, the old bricks and
windows.  The old painted signs on the side.  It is a dream...a real dream!"

"Well, dream or not, it's home Simon.  Your home and my home."

"That adds to the beauty of it.  I love it!"

I was touched that he liked where I lived.  I had had this terrible
premonition that he would be appalled by the decrepitude of the building.
"Well, enough rhapsodizing.  Lets get our things inside because I have to
return the car to my friend before tonight."

We loaded all of our bags and all other paraphernalia into the freight
elevator that serviced the entire building.  I had the entire upper floor as
my studio and living area.  The lower floors were used by a warehousing
company and a company that made tee shirts for any occasion.

Simon was speechless when I unlocked the doors to my studio and turned on
the lights.  He let out a wonderfully loud boy shriek and ran into the
enormous open space.  He threw his arms out wide and spun around a few
times, laughing all the time.  "Uncle, this is magnificent!  This is the
most wonderful place I have ever seen or been in!  Oh, God!  It is
fantastic!"

I smiled at him.  "I'm sorry you don't like it Simon.  I don't know what I
can do to make it better for you."

"Stop making fun with me, uncle.  I just love it!  I really do!"  He looked
closer at the various places in the enormous room and then began to examine
the works of my art that littered the place.  "Yes,
yes...hmmmm...beautiful...okay...ugh..." were some of the comments he made
at the works that were visible.

"I notice that you are also an art critic, Simon."

He turned and smiled at me.  "You have a lot of your works stacked up around
here, don't you uncle?"

"Unfortunately, yes.  My works don't sell well, Simon.  So I have lots of
them around.  In fact, I have just about all of them around here in one
corner or another.  I find I have to paint just like I have to eat and
breathe.  So things pile up."  I lowered my head and became a little
miserable.

"Well, uncle, things will change now, right?"

"What do you mean Simon?"

"Well, I'm here with you.  I will bring you a new inspiration and then all
of your pictures will be sold."

I smiled at him and spread my arms wide.  He ran to me and I lifted him and
swung him around in the air.  He hugged me tightly and we kissed.  I was so
happy to have him here with me.  I knew I would love having Simon living
with me.  As for bringing me new inspiration, I wondered how he realized
that
that was uppermost in my mind; that I had already decided that he would
definitely be my main subject in the future.

We unpacked his belongings.  Well, unpacked is not quite the right word.
Since I had very little furniture, we divided his clothes out into separate
cartons and stacked them up.  I knew we would need to do plenty of shopping
because Simon's clothing was for a much colder climate than we have here in
New Orleans.  He had too many heavy winter clothes and not enough lighter
wear.

For our first night in New Orleans and our new home, I decided that we
should celebrate by eating out.  Simon's palate needed to receive a thorough
education in Cajun and Creole cooking and he might as well start quickly.

He was very excited.  We dressed nicely, although casual would have been
more appropriate.  First we walked through the famous French Quarter and I
showed him the extremes of Bourbon Street - glitzy, gaudy and noisy.  Most
people think that garish and bawdy Bourbon Street is the French Quarter, but
it most certainly is not.  Most of the quarter is quiet and residential and
even a bit tame.  We walked down the quiet and very upscale Royale Street;
it is hard to believe that this other world is only one block from Bourbon.
We looked around Jackson Square and the multitude of shops there, and also
the sketch artists and psychics camped around the square.  The weather was
mild and it was a very pleasant walk.  We did get some looks from some
passersby, but they must have been tourists.

We ate in one of my favorite places (when I had the money), Arthur's.  It
was family run and very homey place.  The old man greeted me and I
introduced him to Simon.  He took Simon around, showed him the restaurant
and took him into the kitchen to introduce him to various employees.  Simon
was all smiles when he returned to the table where our first course was
waiting for us.

The meal was delicious and Simon basked in the world of new flavors he was
discovering.  Some of the Cajun dishes were a little too hot for him and he
passed on them; I told him that within a month he'd be eating everything
just like a native.

We walked slowly back to the warehouse and went up to our loft.  I had a
private sleeping platform constructed in one corner of the large floor and I
wanted...no, I needed...Simon to sleep with me even though I had acquired
another bed for him.  Simon looked at that second bed and laughed.  "Do
you really want me to sleep in that small bed, uncle?  I do not think so.  I
think that you would like me to sleep in your bed with you.  Right?"

"Yes, you're right, Simon.  I'd love it if you would sleep with me."

"Then that is what we will do."

I was happy that our previous sleeping arrangements and sexual encounters
were to continue.  I loved Simon very much - as a nephew and a new found
lover.  He was everything I desired in a companion.

We crawled into bed and held each other while watching TV.  I knew Simon was
very sleepy - it had been a very long day - and he fell asleep in about
fifteen minutes.  I held him tightly not wanting this dream to end; in his
sleep he returned the squeezes and caresses.

However, I could not fall asleep.  My mind was too active.  I was worried
that my constant tossing and turning would wake up Simon.  I could not sleep
because I kept seeing Simon in scene after wonderful scene conjured up in my
imagination - my mind was certainly playing tricks on me.  He was so
beautiful walking through the Garden District or the French Quarter, playing
hide and seek among the tombstones of our unique cemeteries.  I knew I need
to begin; I need to begin to fulfill the promise that I had made to myself
of creating new and different works of art. Simon was to be my inspiration -
my muse.

I got out of bed and grabbed a sketchpad and pencils and in the dim light of
the loft created only by the light from the street (there were no shades on
the windows) I began to feverishly draw Simon.

		----------------------------------------

When I awoke, the smell of fresh brewed coffee filled the loft.  I had
apparently fallen asleep on an armchair in the gallery; the sketches were
neatly stacked on the table next to me.  I looked over towards the kitchen
area and Simon was busily working away.  He seemed to be cooking something
at
the small stove.

I rubbed my eyes, looked at the wall clock (it was shortly after 10 AM) and
stood up.  A pencil clattered to the floor and Simon turned around to look
at me.

"Good morning, uncle," he said while grinning and continuing to stir
whatever it was he was cooking.  "You seem to have had a very busy night."

"Good morning to you Simon.  Yes, it seems to have been productive."  I
picked up the sketches.  There were nine of them, and if I may say so
myself, each was more beautiful than the prior.  There was Simon in all his
fantastic, exuberant youthfulness and his stunning, mouthwatering beauty.  I
had drawn his sleeping features using different recalled sites as
backgrounds.  He was gorgeous.  I was thrilled by the results.  "Did you
look at them?"

"Yes, I did uncle; and I think they are most beautiful.  Did you uncover me
to draw them?"

"Oh, yes.  Well, I think I did.  I don't remember much of what I did last
night."

"Come here and have a cup of coffee.  I made it nice and strong.  I have
already had a cup.  It is quite delicious.  Community Coffee."

I walked over to the kitchen area and pour my coffee.  I looked over at the
stove and he was cooking oatmeal that he must have found in the cabinet.  I
tasted the coffee and it was great.  As I turned to him, he was facing me
and smiling.  I could not help but to immediately take him into my arms and
hug
him tightly while giving him a very long and very loving kiss.

"You are an incredibly great kid, Simon.  It has only been a few days, but I
know how you've improved my very existence."

He smiled a really big smile at me.  "Thank you, uncle.  Thank you.  I know
I have been very happy for all the days I have been with you and I know that
I will be very happy in the future."

		----------------------------------------

That afternoon I registered Simon in a nearby private school.  It was what
some would call a "progressive" school.  To me it taught and concentrated on
the subjects that were most important: English, art, history, science and
music.  There were no crap courses and no wasted time.  It was located
out on St. Charles Avenue and he adored taking the streetcar to get there
and back every day.

Simon came to love it after a period of adjusting to American (and New
Orleans) ways.  He did extremely well.  He was on the soccer (or football,
as he called it) team and began studying the piano again.  I didn't have one
but he was able to practice at school every day.  Simon seemed to be
adjusting very, very well to his new life in America, and I was adjusting
fabulously to having Simon living with me and being part of my life.

Simon made friends very quickly and many of them would come to the loft to
play and study together.  Most of the boys were older than Simon because he
had been placed in a higher grade than his age warranted.  We spoke about
these friends often because Simon noticed that one of the boys, a good
looking redheaded kid name Farrell (I don't know if this was his first name
or last name) seemed to be making a play for my Simon.  I told him that if
he thought Farrell's advances were honest and meaningful he could return
them if he wished.  He thought about this long and hard before telling me a
few days later that he decided that I was to be his only lover - at least
for now.  He loved our relationship and did not want to do anything to
jeopardize it.  I was so very pleased with his decision.

Every evening he would pose for me between study sessions.  The works being
created were enormous and, to my sight, magnificent.  However, one thing
still bothered me about every work I produced of Simon - I could not exactly
capture the unbounded "boyness" of Simon in these canvases.  I even tried
sculpture, I tried photography - yet these still did not capture the
incredible boyhood enthusiasm, the phenomenal spirit and passion of this
most magnificent time of life - this time of unbounded youth - this time of
learning and growing and maturation.

I was frustrated with the outcome of many of the works and I painted over
several of the canvases.  I needed to do this to save money.  Still I
continued to try to capture the essence of my Simon.

We continued to be lovers in the most wonderful, fulfilling ways.  We always
slept together and it was wonderful having this loving and beautiful child
in my bed every night - and sometimes during the day.  It was always an
enlightening experience.  I always learned something new about Simon and/or
me during our times of lovemaking.  If only I could transfer these
experiences - these feelings - these incredibly high emotions - to my work.
What was stopping me from making the breakthrough I craved?  Was I trying to
obtain the unobtainable?  Was what I wanted an impossibility?  Or was it
just simply beyond my meager capabilities.  Was there no way to capture the
essence...the depth...the true nature of this boy?  Years of frustration
would be my future if I did not make a breakthrough - and make it rather
soon!


  			    The End of Chapter 3

       Please Look for Chapter 4, the conclusion of the story, shortly.