Delicious - 2. A Love Machine

A Love Machine

~A James and Faris Story~

By T. Landon

Faris was ill.

I could probably just leave that line alone without further explanation, and well, if you knew Faris there would be no need to say more. But in case you don’t know Faris, I’ll continue.

What do I mean by ill? Well, it could be mononucleosis, the flu, or food poisoning all of which require bed-rest and some nursing. You’d feel sorry for the poor suffering patient and would be tolerant of their whining … erm … pleas for help.

But Faris had none of those. What Faris had is a very bad common cold. What I had is limited time and patience.

It was nearly lunchtime. I’d just returned from the store having bought all the things Faris asked for, including, but not limited to, ginger ale, white tissues – not pink or blue – with aloe lotion, a decongestant, cough syrup, aspirin, lemon gelato and a BBQ chicken.

I’d just put the gelato into the freezer when I heard a strange tinkling sound. It wasn’t Faris in the toilet, and it made Larry, our chocolate lab get to his feet. He trotted out of the kitchen, down the hall to our bedroom. I closed the fridge door on the BBQ chicken when I heard the sound again. It was however, a little more insistent this time. I followed Larry down the hall with a sigh.

As I neared the bedroom door, or should I say, The Sick Room, the ringing got louder. I opened the door and went inside, followed closely by Larry.

Faris groaned and turned his head and smiled weakly at me. In his left hand was a small bell. He rang it again.

“I’m right here, Faris!” Yes, that was a bit sharp, but really! “Where did you find that bell?” I thought I’d done a better job of hiding it after the last time.

Faris moaned and managed to lift his right arm, his forefinger wiggled frantically, pointing at the door. “Clo … cl … oh … clos … clossse iiittt.”

Oh for Pete’s sake! I stomped to the door and closed it. Turning to look at my new fiancé, I bit my tongue – not literally – and smiled at him. In the best mommy voice I could muster I said, “Oh baby, how are you feeling? I got all the stuff on your list.”

Faris was a master at pity parties, and he didn’t fail to put on a great performance this time. He swallowed and weakly reached for the glass of water with a bendy straw, which was on his left. Managing to reach it, he collapsed and the glass hit the blue carpet with a small thud. Larry was up in a second to check out the remaining contents.

“Faris! For God’s sake!” I marched around the bed and picked up the glass. “I had the same damn cold! Did I stay in bed?”

Huge crocodile tears puddled in Faris’ eyes. I put my hand on his forehead. “You do feel a little warm.” Oh God what a monster I am!

“Here baby, let’s get your bed tidied up and your pillows plumped. Do you want the vaporizer on?” I pulled off his covers and helped him sit up. “Do you need the toilet, baby?”

He nodded weakly. I helped him to his feet and we walked slowly to the bathroom. Faris clung to me as I pulled down his boxers and lowered him to the toilet seat. I looked at him and kissed his forehead. “Will you be okay for a couple of minutes?”

After coughing he looked at me; there were dark circles under his blue eyes. “Yes, James. I’ll be okay.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” I left the bathroom, flicking on the fan as I did. I don’t know what you’re doing Faris, but I draw the line at wiping your ass!

I returned to the bed and plumped pillows, brushed off the bottom sheet and tucked it back in, and gave the top sheet and blanket a shake. I organized his tissues, pill bottles, the damn bell and a pile of books and magazines. I was nearly done when I heard him calling me.

“Jaaames. Jaaames help me.” I was bent forward with my hands on the bed, my shoulders sagged, and I sighed. I hadn’t even started lunch yet.

I stood up, pulled my shoulders back and kept repeating Take the high road, take the high road. “Coming.”

Returning to the bathroom, Faris was sitting where I left him. “All done?”

“Yes, James.” He wiped his nose with toilet paper.

I walked to him, flushed and then helped him up. I gripped his boxers, pulling them straight up. As we moved, Faris grunted. Oh God, give me patience. “What is it now Faris?”

“Dick.”

“Dick? Dick who?”

“My dick, James.”

“Faris, you’re too sick for sex.” Sex with Faris was amazing and funny and really really good. I was daydreaming about it when his voice brought me to the present.

“No, James. My dick is a lefty not a righty.” Faris looked at me. “You should know that.”

What? Should I? “Faris, what do you mean?” I looked at my watch, it was way past lunchtime.

Faris pointed to his groin. “My dick.” He pulled the waistband on his boxers forward, giving me a wonderful view of his love machine at rest. I looked in and then at him. “It looks ok, baby.”

“Wrong side! You put it on the right it needs to go on the left!” His nasally whining was starting to eat into the little patience I had left.

“So, you want me to reach in there and move your dick. Is that what you’re saying to me?”

“Yes, James.”

Shaking my head slightly I reached in and picked up his soft member and moved it to the left side. As I did it seemed to come alive a little bit. I peered in to see.

“What James? What’s wrong?”

Yep, it definitely was getting bigger. “Um, Faris, you seem to be developing a growth.”

He looked down and then grinned at me like a happy wolf. His eyebrows rose suggestively. His blue eyes looked toward the bedroom.

“I, um … am starting to feel better, James.”

Oh are you? “Well I think you need to get back into bed and rest.” I held his elbow and guided him back to the bedroom. He tried to kiss me but I gave him a little shove and he sat. “Feet up, patient.”

I picked up his legs and dropped them back on the bed and covered him up. He reached for me and I slapped his hands away. “Oh no, you’re very sick, here in The Sick Room!”

“James.”

“Nope. Here.” I shoved the thermometer in his mouth. I stood looking at him with my arms crossed. I was upset; tired of his games. I pulled the thermometer out of his mouth and looked it. “Oh, look … it’s fucking NORMAL!”

After placing the thermometer onto his bedside table, I stalked out of the room and slammed the door. I could hear Larry whining as I walked through to the kitchen and opened the patio door. I leaned there breathing deeply.

Sighing, I started to make chicken noodle soup with the BBQ chicken I’d bought. As I chopped carrots and onions I heard The Sick Room door open, and then a few minutes later, the shower start.

I sautéed the onions, added the carrots and softened them. Then I poured in the organic chicken stock and added the chicken and parsley. I don’t add noodles, I don’t like them when they get soggy, so I cook them, cool them and put a serving in the bowl and then add the soup. Much nicer.

As I was doing this, I felt Faris’ arms sneak around me. He kissed my neck. “Baby. James, I’m sorry. I was being really bad.”

I sighed and continued to stir.

“That smells great, baby.” Faris was still holding me. He started to rub my chest and belly. “Forgive me?”

He pressed his hardening dick against my butt. I put the spoon down and spun around to face him. “Why Faris? Not everything is a fucking joke.”

Faris looked into my eyes. “I know that. I was being stupid.”

“But you always do this. Look at what you did when we went to Di and George’s. I was ill and you were like freaking me out.”

Faris looked down and then held me close. “James, you are the sweetest guy in the world and I love you. I’m a joker. I don’t mean to get you mad, but that’s me.” He kissed me then, his sweet tongue danced with mine. “Do you still want to marry me?”

I put my head on his shoulder. “Yes, Faris. Yes, I love you too.”

He smiled happily.

“Look Faris, go sit at the table and I’ll bring in the soup, okay?” I took bowls out of the cupboard.

“You sure? I can help.”

“Nope, you just go sit. I’m going to slice the bread.”

“Okay.” He slunk off to the dining room.

I sliced the bread and put the soup in the dishes.

Now it was payback time. I had prepared a little surprise – may as well use it today. I found the bag under the kitchen sink. After a couple of minutes of prep, I screamed like someone had stabbed me. Blood poured from my hand ….

Faris ran into the kitchen, there was blood everywhere around me. His eyes were saucers. I did my best not to laugh. He grabbed a tea towel and slipped on the ‘blood’, falling on his ass.

He crawled to me. “James, James, oh God.” He put the towel over the massive ‘cut’ on my hand. “I’ll … I’ll … call an ambulance.”

He ran to the kitchen table and picked up the phone and started punching buttons. Larry was licking me and I started to giggle. Then the blasted dog took off with my fake cut!

“Come back, here you brown monster,” was out of my mouth before I realized it.

Faris’ back was to me and he slowly hung up and turned around. Larry had his paws on the table and a dripping bloody piece of fake flesh in his jaws.

Quickly figuring out what I’d done, Faris started to laugh. “You prick, James. Oh you are in so much trouble.”

“Piss off Faris, you deserved this.” I got up off the floor. “If it had worked.”

Faris had his hand down his boxers. “The Looove Machine is working. Wanna see?”

I looked down. “So it is.”

Faris grabbed my hand and led me to our bedroom. “I … I’m just a loooove machine and I won’t work for nobody but you ….”

He shut the bedroom door. “Ooooh yeah baby.”

C’est fini