|buy prints of select halfsquatch photographs at etsy or dawanda. (prints of all photographs are available upon request)||day 33
Dave Thompson lay on his back watching Rebecca as she held the portrait he had painted of her to a wall in her bedroom. “I don’t know,” she said, stepping back, her arms stretched straight.
“You don’t like it,” Dave said. He rolled onto his stomach.
Rebecca set the framed painting down carefully on her desk and sat down next to Dave on the bed. Her back rubbed against his side. Instinctively, he moved closer to her. “No. It’s not that. I just think that having a big picture of myself in my room seems kind of weird.” She stood and reached for the picture. “Maybe I could hang it there, over the bed, so it’s not, you know, looking at me all the time.”
“If you don’t like it, I can get rid of it. It’s no big deal.”
“Come on, Dave. You know I love it.” Rebecca sat again and touched his back. He wiggled his hips slightly, trying to adjust his growing hard-on.
“So get up and help me hang it.”
“In a minute.”
“Seriously. Let’s hang it before I change my mind.” Rebecca pulled on Dave’s arm, dragging him to the edge of the bed. He didn’t roll over. He couldn’t. “Stop being so stubborn,” Rebecca said. She let his arm go and started to tickle him.
Dave convulsed with laughter. “Stop it! Becks, stop!”
Rebecca didn’t stop. Dave’s thrashed around on the bed. He was on his side, his legs curled into his chest. He was on his back. Rebecca kept tickling him. Then he was on his feet. Rebecca stopped and jumped back, noticing his hard-on. The outline of his penis was clearly visible through his slim black pants.
“Oh,” Rebecca said and looked at the floor.
Dave quickly adjusted himself. He reached for the painting. “So, my dad’s completely lost it.”
“Yeah, I bet.” Rebecca picked a nail out of the open package on her bedside table and grabbed the hammer. She handed the nail to Dave. “So, it’s really real?”
“That’s what the DNA tests said.”
“That’s crazy,” Rebecca said, shaking her head.
“I know.” Dave tilted the painting left a smidgen. “Okay, now stand back and tell me if it’s straight.”