“Blake, we need to get out of bed. The open house is today! People are going to start streaming in just forty-five minutes from now.” He had his arms wrapped tight around me kissing the side of my neck and grinding his hips into mine. The last thing I really wanted to do was climb out of bed and go next door.

Blake moaned, “One more quick thing…” He slid down under the sheets and kissed the head of my stiff cock.

I said, “Okay, fuck, we’re never going to get out of bed with you doing something like that.” I reached down and tangled my fingers into his hair.

The head of my cock disappeared into his mouth and he started to suck. With a loud moan, I arched my hips upward and then began to buck in rhythm to his sucking. Just as our rhythm synched up, he pulled his mouth off my cock and came out from under the sheets with a wide grin on his face.

I growled, “Damn you, Blake!”

He said, “I just wanted to make sure I was on your mind this morning.”

As I struggled to catch my breath, I said, “When are you ever very far from being on my mind. I think the answer to that is never.

Blake gave me a pout and said, “Okay, fine.” He climbed out of bed and I reached out to give his ass a swat just before he headed for the bathroom.

It was an exciting day. We spent the past month cleaning up Blake’s house. We systematically searched through all of the ancient boxes in the basement and found some treasures. We sorted it all into three groups. The first group was items that Blake wanted to keep. The second was a few boxes of things we thought that his aunt and uncle might find interesting. The largest group was artifacts that we decided to take to the county historical society.

Blake’s aunt and uncle helped us the final week in making sure everything was set to be staged for potential customers. It was February, and the realtor was skeptical about our luck in luring a buyer, but he thought it was good to get the house on the market. Nobody was in a rush for the sale.

Around Christmas, Blake and I decided to move in together. We talked about it off and on for a few weeks, and then one morning Blake sat bolt upright in bed and proclaimed, “Let’s shack up together!”

I was worried when we made the decision that he would want us to live in his house. My house was not necessarily any better, but I was emotionally attached to it. I had a lump in my throat when I even thought about leaving the garden behind. I sighed with relief when he said, “I hope it’s okay with you, Ian, but I like your house better than mine. I think I’ll ask my uncle if he wants to sell it. We’ll have to clean a lot of stuff out, but your house is a better choice.”

We had a well choreographed dance for those mornings when we were running late. Blake took his shower first, and we met in passing with me on the way to the shower while he brushed his teeth.

After we both pulled on clean jeans and T-Shirts, the dance continued in the kitchen. I dropped the bagels in the toaster while Blake brewed our cups of coffee. I gave the toasted bagels a good smear of cream cheese while he poured glasses of orange juice.

We were in a hurry to get to the open house, so we didn’t even sit at the kitchen table. We clinked our glasses of orange juice together and then practically wolfed down the bagels. We both drank our coffee last, and I shook my head feeling the buzz start to settle in.

“Are we gonna sell it today?” I asked.

Blake said, “I’ve got a good feeling. I think there’s a buyer out there.”

He set his coffee mug in the sink and headed for the kitchen door. I said, “Hold up just a second. I want to grab something from the living room.”

Stepping into the space, I realized how much we made it a blend of our two lives in the few months we had lived together. My furniture still dominated the space, but shelves, the fireplace mantel, and the coffee table were decorated with items that Blake discovered in his basement. Delicate glassware gleamed in the morning sun, and framed photos of strangers who now felt like friends gazed out into the room.

I walked up to my favorite shelf in the entire living room. We installed it on the wall just beyond the base of the staircase leading up to the bedroom. It contained the vintage softball items Blake found in his basement. I walked up to the shelf and picked up one of the old-fashioned white softballs. I tossed it up and down twice in my hand before I returned to Blake.

He saw the ball and wrinkled his brow asking, “Why are you bringing that with us?”

I said, “It worked once.”

He asked, “It worked once?”

I said, “Yes, and I’m going to bring it with us to the open house. It’s our good luck charm.”

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Thank you for reading Complete Game. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it for you.

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