Cockle f’r your troubles, dearies?

Note from the editor: I have no idea what this is supposed to be about or what it means. I got it as a submission. Ok, sure thing- i like the cadence. Maybe a reader can understand it.  

Cockle f’r your troubles, dearies?

by G. E. Bauns

“Cockle f’r your troubles, dearies?”

“Oh please, mister! Rough and tumble me will you? Right randy I be-”

“Mm, and bollocks then?”

“Cockle and bollocks both, mister, waggle that wumbly bunch under me bum-n-tumble will you?”

“Waggledy, you says?”

“Oh verily, mister, ‘muckoo muckoo fucky fucky,’ wum wumber me will you? Mmm, yessss...”

And waggle and wumble we did then. Head-first I went, submerging all ov meself into her vandangly lid-lips, and up and up I crept like a centi-preed. Spelunking me lunky into the missus down-under-me-roo, talcum cavern of mucus-prodoosus stalag-ta-tungs. Yes, she was one ripe rummunger. And quick as a leech my rum-cum-tumbles asunder and the whole lot was off with her head.

Pre-emptive revenge cheating on the Last Meridian (A Cautionary Tale) OUR 50TH POST!

Honestly this was a slog to work through, I feel like my style has changed so much in the last year with writing. I wanted to write a classic cautionary tale to celebrate the 50th post on the blog, but some of the readers can probably tell my heart wasn’t truly in this one, although its a story that needs to be told <3 Happy 50th post.
 

Everyone wants a girlfriend with a hot mom. My girlfriends hot mom happened to be only 2 years older than me, and the exact type of woman I liked. Sarah-Anne gave birth to Leah when she was just 16, and at 37, she was a total stunner. Big lips with just the slightest trace of filler, nice firm breasts that seemed to constantly be seeking my attention, and the tracksuits she would wear to the gym left very little to my overactive imagination. I would think about her constantly. There was a certain manner she placed a cool jug of water on the table at dinner times… that is all I need to say. Instead of going to Leah’s room after dinner I would tend to linger in the kitchen, offer my help with dishes, anything I could to be around Sarah-Anne. 

I would pop by the house when Leah wasn’t around as if I didn’t know, and find some reason to strike up a conversation. Sarah-Anne had a deep throaty voice which set my hands to shaking. She was a great listener as well. She had had a string of boyfriends, but no one had stayed long enough, and I could just tell she was lonely. 

On one of these days that I popped over to ‘look’ for Leah, two weeks before my first military deployment overseas, I was sitting in the living room airing my grievances about Leah. I found her to be so immature, and all of the things that had been exciting when we first met quickly grew stale. She spent too much time studying for her University classes and too much time with her juvenile friends. I’d tried having adult conversations with her about responsibility and dependability, and she would do her best, but quickly go back to her old habits. I was starting to feel fed up, and Sarah-Anne was always a receptive ear to my problems, chiming in her own issues about Leah. Spending time with a real woman was sometimes such a nice reprieve from Leah, someone who had barely stopped being a teenager!

I shared with Sarah-Anne the intrusive thoughts and insecurities I was having around my 6 week deployment. I told her how worried I was about Leah spending so much time with her little uni friends, and all the boys that would be around when I was away, and not able to keep an eye on her. Every single service member has an experience with a lying cheating partner, who gets pregnant with another persons baby or starts sleeping around or whatever it is they do as soon as the service member is deployed. 

Sarah-Anne took a great pity for me and reached out to take my hand in hers. I felt the velour of her pink tracksuit sliding against my wrist and I quickly repositioned myself so my erection wouldn’t be too obvious. 

‘Poor Mr. Military’ she said in her husky voice, a sound that purred like a good range rover starting up (I’m british if you couldn’t tell) ‘have you ever heard of  pre-emptive strike? It’s one of the only good things I learned from Leah’s useless father.’

Of course, I had heard of a pre-emptive strike. Our unit was set to bombard the living hell out of the French coastline before they mustered up to the courage to attack the UK, but I wasn’t so sure why Sarah-Anne was bringing it up, so I arched my eyebrows to let her continue.

‘It’s what Leah’s father would do, he would worry that I was going to cheat on him, so he would revenge cheat in anticipation of what he believed I would do. It’s a tool I’ve used to keep some of my weaker boyfriends in check from time to time.’ Sarah-Anne said. “A good looking man like you, it should be no problem to secure a couple cougars to release your wild stallion into… Yes I saw you coming out of the shower once. Leah will be so distressed the whole time you’re gone, that she won’t have the will or energy to cheat on you!’

I was a bit surprised, but flattered as well. A hint of doubt crept up the back of my neck. ‘But Sarah-Anne… she is your daughter, aren’t you worried about her? She makes me mad, but I feel protective of her, almost like a father. I don’t want her to be hurt.’ I didn’t mention anything about what she’d said about me coming out of the shower.

Sarah-Anne thought about this for a moment looking defeated, her lips took a sensual downturn. ‘I guess you’re right Peter. She might be hurt if you were to sleep with some stranger…’ Her eyes lit up again ‘but what if it’s someone that she knows has her best interests at heart! I’ve never done this before, but what if you slept with me, and then I was able to support her and take care of her while you are gone!’

My eyes bulged slightly in my sockets. I could feel blood pulsing through my rigid cock like the stampeding of hundreds of hooves across a great plain. Did I hear her properly??? ‘Sarah-Anne, could you please repeat yourself? I’m not sure if I heard you properly…’

‘Well Peter, Leah knows I would never do anything that wasn’t best for her. I am her mother after all. I would be prepared to help you stabilize your relationship by engaging in anticipatory revenge cheating with you so that she won’t cheat on you first. It can be a bonding experience even, between me and you, and will bring the family closer together in the long run.’ She raised her hand up to my cheek. ‘to be honest, I like having a good man like you around Peter, even if it’s to be with my bratty daughter, your presence in my life reminds me that there are good intentioned men out there, and you have a strong force of life in you. I bet you blow a big load. I would be quite curious.’

I almost came right there as her hand played with my lower lip. I was beside myself with lust. ‘I can’t get pregnant again, I don’t want to raise another one, so we will have to use a condom. For me, this is even better feeling sex’ she said. I had no problems with that. I told her I wanted to plan something really special. and to be ready in a swim suit the next weekend. I left the house later with cum leaking out of my boxers, a viscous river that spiderwebbed out until wicked by my thick leg hair. 

—————————

I called some favours at the military and got a boat for us. I wanted to fuck her on the last meridian. It’s something I had dreamed of ever since I learned about sex. The Greenwich meridian rolled off the tongue in a way most pleasing to a future veteran like myself. Humanity had categorized the world, and in the order that came from categorization, there was something thrilling about being at the first or last spot in that order.

Sarah-Anne looked like something that I would watch on a porn website geared towards modern male interests. She looked just amazing! She wore a bikini that amplified the exaggerated curves she had received in Turkey. I took a sip out of a small flask I carried in my pocket to calm my nerves. My military friends who snuck us into the compound were flabbergasted. They had never seen a woman this beautiful. They were boys, barely 19. I faced my nerves and put my hand across her thigh, sampling the yielding flesh with the nerves in my fingers. It leant itself to my probing touch.

We boarded the boat and set off North-East. Sarah-Anne stood to my side at the wheel, looking backwards to the land. ‘It’s my first time at sea’ she said ‘I like new experiences, and I’m happy to help out in a family matter, but I can’t help but feeling a little scared. The ocean is huge.’

I fought down the urge to guffaw. It was interesting how a woman this worldly and experienced in the world of relationships could be this clueless about boats and water. I didn’t want to ruin our afternoon, so I held back my laughter. ‘It sure is Sarah-Anne. Sometimes I feel a kindred relationship to the volatility and power of the ocean. It can be difficult to keep such strength in check sometimes. Leah doesn’t seem to understand that.’ Sarah-Anne remained respectfully silent, seemingly lost in reflection about the forces that I had to keep at bay.

Upon reaching the last meridian, I dropped anchor, pulled out a bottle of distilled spirits from my picnic basket and poured us both a glass. I was ready to get drunk. Sarah-Anne was still lost in her contemplative silence, and it was starting to irritate me. I had expected her to behave in a more sexual way. I started drinking and looked at her expectantly. She brought the glass to her lips but didn’t swallow. 

I’m going to butt in for a second as the author because I didn’t know how to write this in. Sarah-Anne had been overcome by a deep fear of the unknown, and was undergoing some genuine change having been removed from her environment of comfort. Disgusted by the weak man she saw in front of her, and ashamed of the destructive behaviour she brought to her family relationships, she wanted nothing more than to return to shore and apologize to Leah. There are some wounds that make us behave against our base natures for years and years and she was ready to change. I guess it was just the shock she woke up to in that moment - allowing lust and her own abandonment to dominate her life, when she had everything she really wanted at home. Anyways, back to the other perspective.

I was impatient, and felt like my erection wasn’t going to last long in the negative mood she was projecting, so I reached in the picnic basket and pulled out the condom I had brought. I was tearing at the package with my teeth when a swell came from the ocean and knocked the condom in the water. Disbelief .. as I watched the condom sink below the waves. I hadn’t packed another. I had formed the words to ask to do it raw with Sarah-Anne when I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye. 

Ok, so I’m butting back into the story as the author, because I just want you to suspend your disbelief for a minute, and pretend that this next part really happened. It’s a cautionary tale with a strong moral. I’m switching perspectives because Peter is boring me.

Seemingly all the life rose out of the entire ocean in that moment, and started bumping against the side of the boat. Squid, jellyfish, dolphins, a whale, seals, normal fish… The spokesperson of these fish gestured in a way that implied the reason they were there was because of the disgusting element which had been cast into the water. Sarah-Anne remained quiet. In her heart she knew this meant death for them. In this moment, she felt as if this was the natural conclusion of a series of mistakes she had started making, mistakes she hadn’t been able to accept as reality. Her face was wet with tears. She could see Peter was screaming and yelling at the animals, but she couldn’t hear anything. It was hard to care about anything aside from the downpour in her head.

Sarah-Anne watched numbly as Peter was dragged from the boat and down into the ocean, his body quietly seizing and shaking until it sank below the surface of animals, packed so densely she could hardly see the water. She watched as one giant tentacle licked up the side of the boat, disappearing until she saw it slamming down two inches from her, catapulting her into the teeming masses of life. There wasn’t much more after that.

Consensual Sex Leads To Expected Pregnancy

 Clementine had always wanted to be a parent. When she was a little girl she would build nests like a mother bird, arrange her dolls and bottle feed them gatorade from the plastic nipple until their mouths were stained red. She would piece together elaborate meals, picking up things from around the garden, and try to coax the dolls into eating, using every technique her own parents had auditioned on her. Countless hours were spent playing school, making up games to stimulate their creativity and help them develop a unique identity and sense of purpose in this world. 

Dolls don’t have a wide range of emotions accessible to them, so when she was old enough, she began looking after the other children in her life; family, the younger siblings of friends. She approached all of them with love and humanity, as well as the neuroticism of an obsessive wildlife behavioural specialist. She would constantly test out her budding theories on how to best handle the various emotional outbursts that the other children were prone to. She assessed what brought them joy, what shut them off. These reactions she would meticulously file away in her big brain and countless personal journals. 

It’s not that she was forced prematurely to be an adult, Clementine was still very much a child to her own parents - and until they publicly and irreparably divorced when she turned 15, she saw them as models of security and the good parental instincts she sought to develop in herself. During the divorce, a piece of her heart wandered off, and didn’t present itself to her until a pivotal decision was being made in Paris, France one morning 30 years later. 

Rather than having her own familial ambitions shattered by the divorce, Clementine reacted to her heartbreak by doubling down, exerting excessive pressure on herself in her intellectual pursuits. As she watched her mother and father fall from heaven, she became aware of their fragility. In torment, like every child, she encountered with difficulty the fallibility and flaws in her parents, who were previously unimpaired in her eyes. While living with her father, to her own dismay, she was even forced to put the parental skills she had been developing her whole life to use, in order to keep him from the purgatory adults can go through after experiencing significant changes to their narrow lives. 

It was a profoundly jarring experience for her young soul. 

When she was old enough, she worked at daycares and summer camps, still consciencously filing away information in her journals before going to sleep each night. When Clementine graduated from high school, she applied to top Universities across her excessively large country, wanting to get away from the toxic and burdensome dynamic she was subjected to by her embittered parents. At 18, she moved to a big city, took classes in early childhood psychology and nannied on the side to make money for herself. She made friends, had a number of short relationships and one longer one that she had thought would last forever, travelled a few times but never too much and things were very normal.

Anyways you guys get the point so i’m just going to speed run the rest in a paragraph. She finds a boyfriend in an interesting and unique way filled with just enough coincidences to make her believe in fate, she develops herself alongside her compulsive interests in parenting, goes to therapy, works as a child psychologist... In her early thirties when she wants to start her family, she talks with her boyfriend who is a nice and gentle person and loves her very much. They have sex with no ‘protection’ a lot and all the time for a month always making sure to be in a respectful position when the boyfriend is coming, to bring the child into the world with decency. She finds out she is pregnant and is overjoyed… she goes to therapy again because her boyfriend suggests her neuroticism around childhood behaviour might lead to expectations divorced from reality which could negatively impact her relationship to the child. She works through her parents divorce (unrelated to the thing that happens in Paris, France ten years later). She is proud and ready to be a healthier mother, while still holding on to her wealth of knowledge and abundance of love. The child is born and the family is beautiful. She reconciles with her own parents, who have done work of their own, and while the parents won’t ever get back together, they are comfortable seeing each other and being great grandparents to the child who isn't called Banana (as this would cheapen the story, but I thought it would be worth noting anyways). She probably has a couple more kids, and is a well developed and mature person, who in the later seasons of her life has glowing skin, and to whom both children and adults are drawn, due to her serene energy and the vitality she exudes.

So that’s the story, i guess it’s about the beauty of ones natural impulses and how they interact with the contradictions that exist in being authentic to oneself while also maintaining a relationship to family and society, especially as a child - how this can lead to neurotic behaviour, but by working through the root causes of your neuroticism, you’re able to healthily engage in these incredible impulses that define your relation to your own humanity.

It’s also about an amazing outcome of condomless sex that hasn’t been talked about enough, which is expected and wanted pregnancies and children. For a lot of people, this is important. Finally, there are themes of patience, and understanding that some human relationships are in constant development over long periods of time (decades), and are never set in stone, especially close family relationships. These are the relationships that make life worth living even though there are often accompanied by long periods of distress and confusion.

Take care everyone xx

Transformative Justice with 2 Hot Supportive security guards at the Grocery Store

 Money was a constant issue. I’d also begun to uncover that some of those that I had welcomed into my inner circle were showing their teeth and slithering around my feet, tripping me up.

Despite this, with summer on the horizon, my turmoil seemed to be relenting to my persistent belief that things would get better. One sunny evening I took my bike out from my back porch and made my way down to the budget grocery store near my house. Two years prior at another low point in my life, I had been permanently evicted from that store for shoplifting. Two years is a long time though, and I doubted they remembered me, so I would shoplift again from time to time, keeping an eye out and putting the merchandise in my bag as I perused the aisles. 

Soon after my bike hit the pavement I saw two rabbits mating in the park near my house, with a third sitting and watching from off to the side. Sometimes these things move me to tears, I see life around me engaging with the world in such an unburdened way and I start to spiral on my own sense of alienation. Maybe if I could have just had a normal job and normal expectations from life I would feel more stable. Somehow my expectations never seem to match with the reality presented to me, and I have a hard time entering that reality as an active participant as it doesn’t come naturally. Sometimes I wish I was even the third rabbit, watching unselfconsciously like that. I’ve always admired people who experience things without questioning whether it’s the right or wrong kind of way to experience a thing. 

I honestly don’t want to shoplift any more. I had outgrown my compulsion for it, and although it served a practical function now, I made a decision on my ride down to never shoplift again. Often upon leaving a store, once the paranoia was gone, I would get this awful sense of shame burning down my throat like boiling syrup. This time, I told myself, I would put it on my credit card and save myself from that horrible feeling. Parking my bike on the side of the building, I passed the two sets of sliding doors and kept my head down as I walked under the CCTV camera. I turned left at the third aisle to fill my basket with spices and canned beans. I passed a few mothers with their children in tow, but the store was otherwise empty. I paid at the self checkout and went to leave when I felt a hand press up against my lower back in an assertive and intimate way.

Surprised, I turned around to see a young woman staring at me intently although her face was a little blurry. I forget what I said but she pursed her lips and said something back that I also forget, and led me off to the right, past the cashiers and into a backroom with staff lockers and camera feeds from around the store. I don’t remember exactly what happened, as my brain was operating differently. I saw her lips moving. I’d been in the room before, when I’d been caught two years ago. I started to imagine that I was making my way through tall grass at the end of a summer day and the sky was pink in that special way that's only there for a couple weeks and there was not that much moisture in the air but I couldn’t see that well and my breath was coming out slowly and there were small inoffensive flies that were buzzing overhead and the ground was accommodating to my feet and I could smell something familiar. After a while I came back to reality to find I was alone in the room. I tested the door but it was locked. 

I sat back down and waited. The door opened. 

The first person through the door was the woman who had stopped me. She had soft features. The second figure was roughly my height and wrapped in a hooded cloak, and I couldn’t make out anything from behind the cowl. After recovering from my episode, I sat poised and open, trying to physically express that I was at ease and no threat to public safety. ‘Good Day’ I said ‘What is Going On?’ Obviously relieved to see me talking, the woman who stopped me introduced herself as Camilla. She told me that the ——  (name of the store) has been using a new type of intelligence software for facial recognition and I came up in their database as a criminal trespassing on their property. She had detained me on these charges, and had only refrained from calling the police because I was having some kind of episode. The second figure brought their hands up and slowly removed the hood. ‘Hello, I am Samantha. I am a sound healer and Camilla brought me in here to tend to you’. She had alert eyes, and I could sense goodness. ‘Despite Camilla’s misunderstandings and scorn over my psychological practice, she did turn to me first, for which I am grateful - and you should be too.’ 

I couldn’t think of much to say, I wanted to let both of them know I was quite sorry for my transgressions against the store. ‘I’m very sorry for my transgressions against the store,’ I said humbly. I thought it might be too much to hang my head in shame, although shame had caught up to me already. I kept my gaze steady but I was falling apart inside. I didn’t want criminal charges, and I knew they were well within their rights to call the police. Oddly, neither of them uttered a single word. I saw Camilla tensing her facial features like she was holding something back. Samantha struck me as quite an impressive figure in her hooded cloak, and I felt a sense of awe come over me.  She knows something important, I thought to myself. 

Camilla had had enough of the silence, and I saw her hand fidgeting with the strap of her taser. As though she was choosing each word carefully, she said ‘Samantha has this idea that you need something other than punishment to unlock what is good inside of you.’ Camilla then said ‘I am trying to learn more about how to approach justice from a holistic perspective, so I’m going to give you two options or I’m calling law enforcement:

1. You pay back your debt to —— in labour. You will owe two months of part time work at a cash register.
   
2. You let Samantha lead a ritual to ground you into your confidence and goodness and expunge your poor behaviour. We will not tell you what the ritual is.
   

Camilla stared at me hard. After a second she said “Samantha says she wants to help me too with something… I can’t say I trust her, but I have a dark shadow that follows me. Not the ordinary one, but a second one that sits down on the chair next to me at meal times, and makes me feel like there is a bubble of hard air that’s spun around my head when I am alone and it scares me’. She ran her hand over her taser again. ‘She thinks we can help each other’.

I reflected on this. I didn’t like working. I felt like I could trust Samantha. She had a cooling effect. I didn’t want to think too hard anymore. ‘Samantha, Camilla, I will take the second option. What is it?’

Samantha spun and struck off the lights, leaving the room lit only by the soft glow of the CCTV footage. From my bench, I saw Samantha and Camilla disrobing. Samantha, in one fluid motion dropping her garb to reveal a nude figure underneath. Camilla began by unlacing her military grade boots and once those were off, she went from the top down. She looked soft. She was wearing a little silver necklace and matching bracelet. Samantha quietly commanded me to remove my own clothing, although I have no memory of hearing the words out loud. To my surprise, I had trouble getting my pants off because of how hard I was. I was scared but relieved to be able to have something to do. 

I smelled a pleasant odour coming from where the two women stood. Samantha rummaged in her cloak and brought out two strung instruments on wooden frames that I had never seen before, and set off a pair of ringing notes as she began to play for us. 

Despite Camilla's firmly set jaw, I could see how her body relaxed to the music, and I felt my inhibitions lower as well. It was obvious what was supposed to happen. I could smell her pheromones from across the room. I let instinct take over and I moved towards her. I got on my knees and went to take a dental dam from the desk, when the music stopped. I heard the electric crackle of a taser. I looked up at Camilla but she was staring down at me bare handed. I turned my head to see Samantha smiling knowingly at me, hand on the taser. She shook it back and forth in gentle rebuke until I dropped the dental dam. She picked up her instruments and resumed the music. I used my mouth and hands. Each time I would start to slip away into my world of fantasy, I would hear the taser behind me and the electric air would snap me back into the present. I didn’t stop until I felt the waves of pleasure roll over Camilla. 

We made love in a number of positions, and it was good. 

I felt the inside of her reacting to the music, grip and pull, grip and pull, almost like she was trying to take something off of me. I began to feel very close to her. I felt like I had been experiencing my emotional world through a burlap sack, and the mesh was spreading apart, life was coming into greater clarity. It wanted to see reality so badly my chest hurt. My soul felt held down by a weighted blanket, and when she would grip and pull, a lightness took over, the weight lessening. As I approached climax, the bag ripped wide open, the music sped up and the blanket was lifted. I ejaculated deep inside her, I felt human. 

I closed my eyes. I was swimming, along with millions of others just like me, seeing millions of perspectives at once. We were racing through a familiar tunnel, but heading in a different direction than normal. I was pure being, part of a larger collection of existence. I followed the stream and we spread that presence and existence wherever we could - letting our oxygen mix with our hosts, bringing light into darkness and filling fissures in the tissue. Cool pond on the night of a full moon, a soothing force.

When I opened my eyes again, Camilla and I were cocooned in Samantha's warm cloak, holding each other tight. She was breathing softly on me, both of us spent completely. Samantha had her hands over us, humming a frequency that I could barely make out. I drifted back to sleep, watching the comings and goings of the shoppers on the display screens. 

When I left the next morning, I felt liberated. Camilla had no tension in her face, and her features radiated light and warmth. 

I earnestly thanked Samantha. “Thank you Samantha, I feel changed.” “Please Don’t Worry about me now. I won’t come back and trespass, I have learned my lesson, and am grateful to have been met with compassion and sex rather than a court order.” You are a good person, I whispered. I kissed Camilla on the forehead and I never saw either of them again ever. 

Garden shed (part 1?)

It was a beautiful Monday morning. Most mornings were spent tending to my garden. It was on this day that my small-fruited tomato, a sweet 100 variety, sprouted a yellow flower that moved me to tears.

“Finally!” I cried softly. The fruits of my labour began to pay off. 

I ran into the house to tell John that my garden was starting to blossom. 

“Wow, that's amazing! But why are you crying?” He asked innocently.

“I have been so fixated on Mother Nature's synchronicity and natural interconnectedness between seed germination, life and its sustenance,” I exclaimed passionately. 

“Wow, that’s interesting,” John muttered and walked into the kitchen. 

John was a nice guy. He was from Winnipeg, grew up in a nice suburban home with two loving parents, had a master's degree in economics and a stable job, but I began to absolutely despise him. We had been dating for two years, and we met when his corporate tech workplace called FutureMaking came into my garden to volunteer. Initially annoyed that the tech bros came into my sanctuary, John intrigued me. I was in a bad mood that day and felt like being bossy. 

“Go fill up those mounds now,” I exclaimed to John and his friends.

While his coworker George looked annoyed that I was bossing them around, John immediately went with his wheelbarrow and didn’t ask any questions. I noticed that as he was walking, he had these large, thick hands. They weren’t the kind you see when you go to a car mechanic or ironworker, where they were big but leathery, tense and filled with grease, like the kind that knew struggle. His were big, but they had a softness to them, the kind that felt like they could hold you. 

“Should this go here?” John asked?

“Yes,” I half yelled. Tired from the afternoon's rising heat, I didn’t feel like carrying anything anymore.

“Hey, do you mind carrying this compost back to the shed?” I asked John.

Springing to action immediately, he says yes, of course I can.

I smiled. “You guys should come here more often.” 

We made eye contact and laughed. I followed him to the shed. 

I had around 100 ears of corn in a bag that John began to carry. I noticed he picked up things with ease, and I started feeling something towards him. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I was feeling something. 

“So where are you from?” John asked.

“I’m from the northern part of the Yukon.” While I replied, he began to sweat and took his shirt off, revealing a tighter long sleeve underneath. I noticed his hands weren’t the only big thing. 

Seeing his biceps, I embarrassedly became flustered. Hopefully I kept my cool, but while looking at his vivacious upper half, he glanced over and smiled. Oh no. 

“Wow, the Yukon looks beautiful. I’ve always wanted to go.”

“I’m going this summer, you should come,” I half-joked, feeling immediately confused why I said that. 

He laughed. “Don’t tempt me. But I’m sure it’s not half as beautiful as you are.” 

I was shocked. Did a tech bro named John really just say that to me? While I always thought some of my features were beautiful, like my brown eyes and cheeks full of freckles, I didn’t always feel beautiful. I didn’t want to admit it, but it made me feel special.

“Hey, don’t get too behind on that corn now,” I commanded. Knowing I sounded bossy, I winked, and he laughed and finished the final load.

“I’m sorry if I came off strong earlier; it's just something about you,” John stated, looking at me with curiosity behind those deep green eyes. 

“I’m flattered, but I’m not looking for anything right now,” I said with half pain and half sarcasm. 

“It’s okay, Im sorry if I overstepped,” John said with such tenderness and respect. He began to walk out of the shed when I said, “Hey, wait!” 

He turned around and looked at me with this look I will never forget, complete excitement. 

“This has never happened to me in my life before, but do you want to have sex? My heart is not open right now, but I haven’t been able to stop looking at you and feeling this strong urge and desire to feel you.” 

He looked at me. 

Oh my gosh, why the hell did I say that? I haven’t had sex since my previous partner 2 years ago, and now I’m looking like a crazy, horny mess. 

Without saying anything, John walked towards me. 

As he walked closer to me, we made eye contact. Without saying anything, John bowed before me and rested on his knee. 

What? I was mortified. 

As I looked down in confusion, John carefully and slowly grabbed my thigh. I felt like I could scream from pure shock. 

He looked up at me, and I immediately became flustered and hot. He gently laid his big hand on my legs and caressed my tattoos on my leg. I felt his big, soft lips begin to kiss my thighs, and I began to feel ecstatic. He made his way up to my belly, gently passing my private parts and made his way to my breasts. I immediately became so hot and bothered that I grabbed him to stand up, and he reached my hips to pull me in and kiss me.  It felt primal. We moved past the shyness and awkwardness of kissing and rushed into something so passionate. I felt like I could eat him. The raw passion and energy between us could fuel anything into existence. His kiss felt so new, so different and raw. He began to touch my breasts and looked down at me with such lust that he ripped my shirt off. I was not used to being naked in front of someone, and today, of all days, was one when I wasn’t wearing a bra. He stopped, looked at me and smiled. Without a moment's notice, he began kissing and fondling my breasts, avoiding my nipples. “It "It’s okay, you can touch them,” I half moaned and announced. He immediately did what I said. In that moment, I felt like I could ask him to do anything under the sun and he would do it for me. 

Next to us was a table with a gingham cloth, and he picked me up, put me on it, and we made out viciously. I began to get excited about the idea of his penis inside me. I could feel it brushing up against his pants and knew we would fit perfectly. But then I started to laugh. 

“What's funny?” he looked confused. 

“I never thought I’d be doing this,” I exclaimed.

“Me neither, but now I want it forever,” he said. I smiled. So did I. 

I decided to get up. He was confused. 

“Gardeners aren’t easy, you know, if you want to feel this,” and I put his hand on my wet panties,” you will have to wait,” I said proudly. 

Worried about his reaction but not showing it, I was wondering if he would be upset. Again, he had this look in his eye that he would do anything in this world for me.

He grabbed my hand, placed it on his crotch and said: “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.” 

We both looked at each other and smiled. 

“Besides, we have a garden to tend to.” 

SENT IN ANONYMOUSLY FROM A READER. NOT MY STORY!