Weeks Vacation Day 01

We had been talking almost a full year online and on the phone. We'd cammed and sent snail mail and email. Now Brian was really here, in my drive way. I could see him through a small gap in the living room curtains as he hopped out of his beat up 67 Chevy.

I knew from a dozen different conversations that the truck was his baby rescued from a junkyard. He had slowly rebuilt and or replaced every inch of it. Its problems were all cosmetic now according to Brian he just needed to reline the bed and give it a paint job. I didn't mind the primer gray and I enjoyed the classic lines and cute sidesteps on the front of the short bed.

I wasn't looking at the truck now however my attention was captured by the twin distractions of his adorable butt in tight jeans as he leaned back in the truck to grab a rucksack style bag and throw it over his shoulder. He grabbed something from the dash before slamming the cab door and turning toward my house.

My heart skipped and my breath caught in my throat. I was unbearably excited and filled with a sudden shyness. What if he didn't like me in person. I stroked my sweaty palms over the full curves of my hips and outer thighs. Should I just go out and meet him or wait for him to knock? I smacked both hands against my own ass to move myself. I opened the door and stepped onto the small covered front porch. It was just big enough for the 4 foot long porch swing to one side and the five tier spiral plant stand I'd covered in ferns on the other.

Brian was just mounting the top step and his face broke in a grin revealing his dimples to me for the first time in person. "My Michelle!" he exclaimed. He seemed to set down his bag, close the gap between us, and wrap me in his arms in the space of one of my stuttering heat beats.

I inhaled deeply smelling a faint whiff of lectric shave and a hint of old spice over fabric softener. Delicious. He lifted me completely off my feet before setting me back down and drawing back just enough to kiss my cheek. His nose burrowed in my neck and I felt one hand stroking my back. To this day it's the only hug I can remember being both to short and to long, to tight and far to loose. I would happily have crawled into his clothes with him if I could have. He must have felt the same as the stroking hand slipped under my shirt to press my bare skin. It was sexy but still innocent in that I somehow knew his only intention was just being closer to me.

I was laughing in happiness when we finally broke apart and his deep chuckles quickly joined mine. Our eyes locked and he caught up one of my hands in his. I was completely captured by him in that moment. My heartbeat was slow and steady.

"You want to sit out here or come on in?" I motioned my head slightly toward the door unable to break eye contact.

He brought his other hand up and I saw he was holding a small posy style clutch of roadside weeds and flowers. "I want to come in."

I took the flowers and felt my face go up in flame. I had a sudden clear image of what we would look like to others. Me blushing with a half mile wide smile with a handsome young man, clutching hands so tight both were a bit white knuckled and it made me laugh again. The loud outburst seemed almost rude to me as it was right in his face but he only smiled wider.

"I picked um myself darlin'," he played bashful grinding a toe into the porch and hid his face by looking down. He looked up winking and I wondered at his ability to understand exactly where my mind had went.

He leaned back and snagged the strap of his bag in one hand. I caught him and myself by surprise as I leaned in to kiss his cheek and caught his lips instead. Our lips seem to meld together before his parted and closed over my lower lip. I felt the faintest touch of his tongue before his lips dragged across mine and where gone. His hand cupped my cheek, calluses rough against my soft skin.

My eyes didn't want to open and let the moment end. I wanted to savor it, to live it over and over again. His lips touched my nose and my eyes flew open suddenly aware what a fool I must look like standing there eyes closed and lips half pursed. He wasn't looking though, his eyes were closed as well and his forehead leaned into mine before he opened them. This close looking into his eyes seemed more intimate than anything I'd done with my last boyfriend.

I turned and lead him into the house by our still clasped hands. "You can put your bag there," I pointed to a small bench I kept in the front hall beside a standing coat rack. "Or I can show you around and you can put it away?" I ended the question a little uncertainly. We'd talked about sleeping arrangements before many times and he was supposed to stay in my spare bedroom but I realized now I did not want to miss a single second I could spend with this man before he left.

"Here's okay. My bags are still out in the back of the truck. This is yours. I made it myself." He added the last sheepishly and set it down. He motioned to it with a flourish.

I picked up my part sticking the flowers to my nose and batting my eyes at him in what I'm sure was more a sycophantic display than the coquettish one was going for. "For me? Oh my, flowers and gifts. You do know how to spoil a girl sir." I pretended to turn serious. "Is it your dirty laundry?"

He laughed and undid the top draw string and opened the top. He pulled out a rumpled t-shirt and I was confused for a moment before I laughed with him. He slid the bag down and I squealed with excitement when I saw the wings appear. I stepped up beside him to see the exquisitely carved butterfly wings better. It was a butterfly with its wings partially opened at rest on a more rally carved lump of wood I recognized as a fence post. There was a traditional pattern engraved on the wings but with a raised overlay of floral vines with tiny five pedaled flowers. It stood at least a foot and a half tall and was made of a rich dark wood. I marveled at his skill and the level of detail in each leaf and petal, the wrinkles and ridges of the butterfly's abdomen. The time it must have took to do this staggered me.

"You made this for me? Really? Oh my gosh I love it. Look at it! You can't be serious this must have taken you months. Oh my God" I didn't bother to pause for him to answer my questions I was completely blown away at the generosity of this gift. I' d seen some of his smaller work over cam and had been amazed at how good it was but I'd never really understood just how truly talented he was.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Of coarse! I'm positive I made it just for you.Well my dad roughed out the basic shape for me with his jigsaw, but I did all the detail by hand. It's probably the best time we've spent together in years. I did a lot of the detail work while we talked on the phone."

Brian's father a lifelong carpenter and artist himself, hadn't been hugely pleased with his son enlisting in the air force even if I did provide the education he wanted his only son to get.

I hugged him tightly and only loosened my hold to jump excitedly against him thanking him over and over.

I stepped away and slid my fingers over the satin smooth tip of one richly grained wing. "I'm goanna put it in my bedroom so it can be the last and first thing I see every day."

I thanked him for another 15 minutes and minutely examined every detail of the sculpture. Exclaiming over it repeatedly and enjoying the obvious pride Brian showed without being in the least cocky or obnoxious. How did such a good looking, smart man end up so humble and unaware?

At my request he carried it to my bedroom and placed it on the tall dresser directly across from my bed. My bedroom was the furthest room back and I gave him the dime tour as we worked our way back to the front of the house.

I showed him the spare bedroom without a word as to it being where he'd sleep and moved on to the hall bath. I showed him the store of towels and trial size soaps, shampoos and toothpastes I kept in the narrow linen cabinet along with extra toilet paper. We worked our way through the kitchen and living room and I began to notice a trend in the things Brian paid close attention to. His hands had brushed over my pillow and then a pair of lounge pants I'd left draped over my vanity chair. In the living room he'd stared intently at my overstuffed blue couch. In the kitchen he'd rubbed his hands over the counter of my island unconsciously. I'd felt my face flush watching those hands rub over tiles I'd described him lying me back on in a steamy letter.

We stopped in the room my cousins and friends had helped me add on to the house last summer. We'd done the best we could on built in bookshelves covering every inch of wall that didn't contain the two large windows. They were full to bursting with hardbacks and paperbacks mixed and mingling, stacked and standing in rows in a way I thought was fun and enjoyable to look at. I knew it wasn't perfect but I was extremely proud of this room as it was the only one that always felt truly mine.

I'd inherited the house when my father passed three years ago. I'd never been close with the man and though he'd kept a room ready for me I'd never spent a night in the house until it'd become mine. I'd be forever grateful to him for thinking to take care of me after he was gone in a way he couldn't when he was here as he'd also left me a good bit of money in his life insurance policy. To be 19 and a homeowner with the money for college wasn't heard of in my small town.

We sat down on the worn leather love seat that sprawled oversized with a matching chair and ottoman in the middle of the room.

"I love your house. Everything feels like a home. You know what I mean?" He threw his booted feet up on the ottoman and opened his arm toward me. I slid into his side, turned sideways so I could look up into his face. His arm enclosed me and his fingers began to stroke circles over my hip.

"I'm glad it comes off that way, it's been a hard slog making it my own. My dad had some dark funky taste." I made a blech face at the memory of the dark walls and overly bright floral prints.

I could feel the rumble of his laugh against my chest and the warmth of it seemly oozed through me. I could smell a hint of mint on his breath when it puffed over my face. The moment seemed very intimate and I wondered when he'd kiss me again. I spontaneously captured his free hand in mine, entwining our fingers. I noted that his hands while callused were fine with long fingers and large square palms.

"What did you call the living room color again?" he asked.

"It was mushed peas baby poop brown," I said promptly.

"What color is it now?" his voice was a bit vague and I took it as disapproval.

"It's called pearl star. You don't like it?"

"No I do. I just couldn't think of anything to ask to get you started talking. I'm just not feeling my wittiest right now. I'm a bit ..." He trailed of and looked down pointedly. I realized he must have an excellent view into my cleavage which was pressed into his chest.

I didn't move but clenched my hand tucked between the small of his back and the couch into a fist. I licked my dry lips. "Are you tired from the long drive?" I tried to ask innocently but I'm sure my flushed cheeks gave me away.

He smiled and leaned toward me, his eyes flickered down again and I lost my cool following his gaze. My cleavage was indeed on prominent display but beyond that I saw what had truly distracted him. I'd settled our entwined hands on top of a growing bulge in his jeans. I jerked my hand away mumbling an incoherent apology.

His hand rose and slid up my neck thumb tilting my chin up so he could settle his lips on my own. He kissed me deeply. His tongue licking first over my lower then my upper lip before sliding in to taste me. It darted forward and slid over my own engaging me fully in the kiss. Our lips moved and slipped over each others. I had no idea how long the kiss lasted but I felt short of breath, my hand pressed over his heart and I was fully melted into his side by the time he pulled away.

His hand covered mine and he squeezed. "I didn't mind, just so you know. In case you know you couldn't tell. I mean it might not have been obvious but ..." We both laughed as he trailed off.

"It must not have been because I honestly didn't notice you not minding," I said blushing.

I looked up to find his gaze intense and focused on my face. "It's even more charming in person."

"The blushing?" I asked.

"The whole package." His arms circled me and tightened. His lips devoured mine and I lost track of time again.

We necked and whispered softly to each other like teenagers who had to be quiet or get caught for the next two hours. It was his stomach instead of parents that broke us apart. It began growling so vehemently I could feel in my own stomach pressed against his side.

I laughed and extricated myself from his arms. "Come on I'll start dinner and you can get your bags outta the truck."

"Okay," He pretended reluctance, "if you insist on cooking me dinner I'll put this on hold." His kissed my lips softly to emphasize his point.

We parted ways in the kitchen and I pulled the lasagna I'd put together the day before out of the fridge. I set the oven and started gathering up salad fixens, singing James Carrington's Ache softly to myself. I choked on a high note when I realized he was right behind me listening. I didn't bother to turn but I could hear him boost himself onto the island behind me.

"You have a pretty singing voice. Don't stop on my account," he encouraged.

"I can't carry a tune in a bucket," I scoffed. I held up a red bell pepper and onion and motioned to the salad greens. "Yes, no, both?"

"Both, please. I said you have a pretty voice and I never said anything else. You want me to mangle something, make myself useful?"

"No I got this. I caught what you just said there, too." I smiled over my shoulder at him and pulled out my compost bucket before I moved to slide the lasagna in the oven. "Would you like some wine? I think I have a bottle. I know I have beer, water or some sweet tea?" I turned the end into a question. I handed him his indicated beer out of the fridge and moved to work my way through the pepper, half the onion, and a cucumber.

We chatted about things I'd done to fix up the house, sliding into a conversation that carried us to setting the table and dinner. I felt a ease of being with him that allowed me to converse easily while still feeling the thrilling newness of our being together.

I was surprised and pleased when Brian immediately began gathering dishes and washing them in the sink after we finished eating. I wrapped leftovers, sliding them away into the fridge and placed empty beer bottles in the recycling. We worked around each other smoothly without speaking until the kitchen was as tidy as when I'd started.

"Thanks for helping me clean up."

"No problem. I was happy to help. I will confess to having ulterior motives as well." He stepped close taking one of my hands in his and putting his other through my hair. His voice turned husky, "I just want to cuddle back up with you. I figured if I earned some brownie points I could convince you I deserved a little more lovin'."

I flushed, "You don't really have to convince me."

We moved into the living room and Brian took off his boots and I followed suit with my own shoes, removing my socks as well. I wiggled my toes splaying them and pressing them into the carpet.

When I looked up from stuffing my socks in their respective shoes Brian was laid back in a corner of the couch legs stretched out along the cushions. I grabbed the remote turning the TV to a channel that played soft rock and showed local advertising. I half lay down beside him propping myself on one elbow before he wrapped his arms around me and tugged until I was draped over his chest.

"Comfy?" he asked wiggling himself a little deeper into the cushions at his back.

I managed to nod before his lips closed over mine. They were warm and soft as they slipped over my cheek and closed over my ear lobe. His breath stirred my hair, tickling my neck when he breathed in my ear, "Is this where you'd normally lay to talk to me?"

I nodded again. I could feel my arousal quickly returning to the same frustrated level it had been at earlier. "Exactly were you're at."

"I knew I liked this spot," he responded.

His hands were roaming, lightly massaging over my back, hips, and butt. He pulled me tightly into the side of his hip and I pressed back sliding one thigh up and over his. He took advantage of this by running a hand down the back of my thigh from the cheek he'd been squeezing. He latched a hand behind my knee pulling my crotch even firmer against his hip. I had the almost irresistible urge to begin humping his thigh.

I pressed my own hands over every inch of his chest I wasn't covering with my own before bringing them up behind his neck and clasping his head I pulled his lips back up to mine. He groaned in approval.

His hand slid slowly up my side from behind my knee all the way to the side of my breast. My nipple hardened before his palm covered it. His hand was almost to gentle and I pressed myself into his touch. I felt frustrated when his hand slid away and I must have groaned in frustration because his lips broke form mine.

"Is this okay?" I realized his hand was slipping under the edge of my tee, his fingers light and almost tickling on my side and stomach.

"Uh-huh," I affirmed. My lips found the lobe of his ear and his head tipped to the side. I could hear his ragged breathing and I was aware of his erection pressed firmly against the top of my thigh.

His fingers burrowed under the cup of my bra and slowly slipped it up and off my breast. I made no protest but moaned and softly bit at his neck when the underwire scraped over my nipple. He cupped my breast and his thumb began rubbing over my nipple first around, then flicking across it.

My lips worked up to his again, kissing him deeply. I could feel my hips flexing almost against my will pressing myself pleasurably into him. His hand moved and my breast felt cold suddenly as he grabbed both hips in his hands. He shifted me over so I was atop him. He lifted me a little until he could scoot himself over so my thighs straddled him.

One of his hands wormed between us and I tried to lift myself away but his other arm tightened as if to prevent me from escaping. I felt the hand between us shifting his package even as the back worked against the crotch of my jeans. When he finished his hips rocked up against me gently and his hands smoothed under my shirt to caress my lower back.

My shirt was taken with his hands as they slowly worked up my back and I lifted my chest wanting his hands on my breasts. He broke our kiss to ask softly, "Can I?" His hands were already working my shirt up and I raised my arms in response.

He groaned at the sight of my exposed chest. I looked down at myself feeling awkward when I registered my bra still had one cup pushed up. It exposed the full lower globe and hardened nipple, aureole drawn up and puckered around it. I wanted to jerk my bra cup down and I wanted to take it off completely. My lust won over shyness and I sat up and began to raise my hands behind my back to unclasp my bra. Brians hands smoothed up my ribs pushing both cups up out of his way as if he couldn't wait a moment longer to touch me.

I slid the bra straps down my arms and dropped it to the floor. I felt wanton and brave suddenly. I let my head fall back and began to slowly thrust my hips. I could feel the hot heat spreading between my legs and knew I was sopping wet. His fingers plucked at my nipples and I felt overwhelmed with sensation. The rasp of our jeans and heavy breathing seemed to drown out the music in the background.