-I’ll be in your driveway in three minutes. He’d threatened to surprise me for w
-I’ll be in your driveway in three minutes. He’d threatened to surprise me for weeks after I’d moved in. This small, porched, quirky farmhouse was barely eight miles from His 3Br, 2 Bath friendly neighborhood ranch but the drive took 25 minutes, winding through partly up the mountainside to the hidden flatland. They used to grow apples in the orchard, and pears. Mostly, they grew grade A moonshine (the mountain winds regularly blew the fruit down early; harvests were small. But the young fruit wine was plentiful and strong, and popular among the locals.) The cattle, seven in all, came with my purchase. There would be a spring calf, maybe two.Three minutes. Knowing the drive, and His predictable driving speed (safe but a hair faster than practicle), that puts Him alongside the wide creek where the birch stand, just before the turn up the long gravely private road. Actually my driveway, but road sounds less stuck-up.The dust cloud floats thin over the rise. 4, 3, 2… and there he is.My body reacts in funny, unconscious ways because of Him. Over the phone, His voice grounds but also excites, makes me ache. I usually touch myself after we hang up. In writing, I read between every line. He is a good writer. Photos bring honey, wet between my legs, rippling “I.Want.That.” through my body. Doesn’t matter if we’re at church or some crazy party buzzed and dancing around a bonfire, or drying dishes on a night He’s come for supper: I want Him all the time.He pulls around the circular drive to where I stand as requested, half naked in lingerie, apron and heels. Smiling His devil smile the car door opens, -on your knees. Show Me I am home.Agent 355 -- source link