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He moved his large fingers with surprising gentleness between the young plants, deftly pulling weeds. It was hot and sweat dripped from his brow. His large body crouched low to the ground, shirtless, reddening under the glare of the noon sun. In a few months the plants would be half as tall as he and full with blossoms but they were mere inches high now, more potential than not. He smiled and reflected that was the nature of life, the journey was the thing, not the destination.
Rising, the man stood and surveyed his work and was pleased. Shifting his gaze, he studied his peonies. They were coming into full bloom and the large flowers were magnificent this year.
Cupping a flower in his palm, he realized the graceful petals reminded him of another flower. He grinned at the mental comparison. For all their beauty, the peonies would not smell or taste half as sweet as that tender blossom.
He moved to the deck and turned the CD player on. The familar sound of James Taylor filled the back yard, warm tones reaching to the privacy fence and beyond. The neighbors didn't mind.
Stripping off his shorts, he rinced off with the hose and stretched out on the grass. A six foot fence came in handy.
He dozed off beside the apple tree.
Dreams of her filled his slumber, erotic dreams. He could almost feel her soft mouth around him, moist lips working up and down his shaft, then cupping first one oval and then the other, tongue tickling the base, wrapping around the shaft, then tickling the tip.
With a start, then a smile, he realized he wasn't dreaming! She had seen him and decided to wake him in her very special way. Well, one good turn deserved another, he thought, so he grasped her around the waist and allowed his tongue to find his favorite flower, tugging on the petals with his teeth. Soon, cries blended with the sound of Sweet Baby James...
6/17/2005 2:21 am
How sweet it is...to be loved by you|