why is it that i am unable to outrun the blaring tv???
is everyone in my life addicted to that crap?
at home, i fight my kids' shows.
at night, i try to ignore my husband's shows.
HERE, i am attempting to ward off the nosie from my father's shows.
i'm not sure why i feel that MY addiction is more noble, more worthy--
but I do.
hee.
I'm seriously struggling, here, folks.
i think i may have written myself into a corner--
so i'm going to do a back hand spring and land somewhere totally new and unexpected.
i WILL write a fantasy today, but it may be different than my usual.
i think the biggest part of the problem is that i am living my greatest fantasy--madly in love with the father of my children, and satisfied with all that we are and have and do...
it's hard to dream of anything that would be better than this.
the other part of the problem is that i haven't taken time to really meditate on this subject in a long time...
(yeah, that means i haven't masturbated in a while.)
i haven't really connected with anything outside myself/my life lately.
SO.
i have to really sit back and let my thoughts wander.
don't hold your breath....
**********
It would be out of the way--by nearly an hour--on that dusty stretch of freeway.
But i was filled with a deep sense of happy satisfaction at the thought of delivering this care package to my boss's son.
I had known him since he was a kid, from spending time with the family.
he was stationed at a marine base, would be leaving for Iraq soon.
in fact, i hadn't seen him in a couple of years and still pictured him as a kid.
When i knocked on the door to his room in the barracks, i could hear loud rock playing inside and smiled.
he flung the door open, poised to yell--
he hadn't heard my knock, over his music, and was preparing to warn his floormates that a woman would be on deck shortly.
...apparently i was early--he sported only a towel.
(around his waist, fortunately.)
we both blushed and he hurried to turn down the music and finish dressing.
his room reminded me of a hospital room--sparse and cold.
he returned in fatigues and a t-shirt, his tightly buzzed hair already dry.
the awkwardness was difused when i handed him the box from his parents and we began talking about them.
as we spoke, i was afforded a closer look at him--
he had grown up.
17 to 20 is a big jump, especially when those years are spent in military training.
the boyish curves of his face had been replaced with the hard, straight lines of a man--his thin wiry body with the thickness of one preparing to defend himself with only his hands.
as the cheerful conversation found a quiet spot, i realized i was openly staring at him--with the wrong sort of thoughts in my head...
he cleared his throat and informed me that his orders were in.
he would be leaving early the next morning.
i swallowed hard, and tried to think of the appropriate response.
before i could speak again he stood and started unnecessarily organizing some books on a shelf.
do you remember the company picnic, a few years ago? right before i left for bootcamp?
he didn't wait for a reply.
i was in my dad's room, looking for his stash of smokes, when i heard someone coming. i figured it was just someone coming in to use the bathroom, so i stepped behind the closet door.
he paused, and turned around to face me.
it was you. and you didn't go into the bathroom...before i could say anything, you had slipped out of your swimsuit, and back into your clothes.
his face turned a little pink, and mine was as red as a rose.
i looked down, not knowing what to say.
i don't think i'll ever forget that. you were so beautiful--are...
surprised, i looked up just in time to see him step toward me.
i smiled and stood.
he put a hand behind my neck, gently pulling me toward him.
i've dreamed of you every night since then...
his voice was husky, quiet.
i hesitated for a moment, then kissed him.
he kissed me back, his hands in my hair, the kisses so soft and sweet.
i could smell the soap on him, and he tasted like rainwater.
i let out a small groan, resisting my urge to tear him apart.
we proceded slowly, tenderly.
he kissed my ears, my neck, my shoulders--as if he were performing a sacred ritual.
he removed my clothes and continued exploring my body as if i were the first woman he had ever touched.
...and he looked at me as if i would be the last...
he peeled off his briefly donned clothes and i swallowed hard.
i hadn't seen a body like that in a few years...
i pulled him to me, roughly, fiercely--kissing him with such force it took his breath away.
i began my own worship--much less delicate than his own had been.
on my knees?
yes...
feeling so patriotic, giving head to this sweet soldier.
swallowing him greedily, then sliding up him, kissing his neck, biting.
we sat, legs interwoven, as he kissed my breasts and regained his momentum.
when he was ready, he laid me back and dropped into place...
we moved together, nearly frantic with desire, with need.
my nails in his back, i breathed, faster...harder...
and he brought us both home--
as we lay together in his tiny bed we wasted no words pretending to be in love...
we were madly infatuated with each other and amazed at our respective good fortune.
i stayed until it was time for him to report for duty in the morning, to board his plane.
and we packed a year's worth of fucking into those 16 hours--both leaving smiling and sore.
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