I still have not finalized how many entries there will be in this series, but we are somewhere over halfway to the end. This chapter is fun on its own, but to understand what is happening beneath the surface, I really recommend new readers start with Chapter One.
As with all my stories, should you be looking for 'Realism', just move on. I aim for 'Ridiculously Plausible'.
And thanks for all the views, favorites, follows and the high ratings so far. I appreciate your keeping up with the tale, and I'd love your comments too!
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I stood in my dorm room and fretted about what to wear for my date with Meredith. We would be outside walking around, so I needed comfortable clothes. Meredith evidently liked a trim silhouette on a guy, so baggy clothes were out. However, hanging around Meredith meant that... well, erections tended to happen. While this could be awesome under the right circumstances, I didn't want to be embarrassed in public.
Atlanta was heading into an unusually hot spell of Indian Summer, especially unusual, given that we had reached early December, and I was excited to be able to wear a short-sleeved shirt. I settled swiftly on a brightly patterned cotton pull-over. It was comfortably and flatteringly tight over my broad shoulders, and the sleeves clung to my biceps in such a way as to give the impression that my 'guns' were of a higher caliber than they actually were. The best part was that it had a loose shirttail that wasn't meant to be tucked in. It wasn't long enough to completely conceal any ill-timed bulges, but it would at least reduce their visibility.
I considered wearing the trim pair of linen trousers I liked so much, but they were too tight around the groin, and anyway, we would be outside and they showed dirt. Finally, I settled on my new pair of black jeans. They fit very well, and the thick, tough fabric meant that a hard-on would standout less. I shook my head at how good my life was, in that I had to spend time worrying about people seeing all the erections I was having. Having lots of erections can be torture, of course. But having lots of erections that you get to
use
is... well, I highly recommend it.
I pulled up at Meredith's home and rang the doorbell right as the sun was setting. She answered the door herself and we shared a quick peck on the lips as she ushered me inside. As I entered, I realized that, while it was cooling down a little outside, it was still hot enough to actually feel the comfortable caress of air-conditioning as I walked inside.
"So, where are you taking me?" asked Meredith immediately. "I tried to get it out of Stephanie at lunch today, but she wasn't telling." That was because I hadn't told Steff. She talked
way
too much to her (ex)step-mother for my comfort anyway. I looked around for the gorgeous tattletale in question.
"I haven't the vaguest idea where she has gone off to," said Meredith in response to my searching gaze. "I noticed sometime this afternoon that she had ghosted me, and I haven't heard from her since."
Relieved that I would not have to deal with the two of them at once, I turned to really take in Meredith. As usual, I froze a little when first really looking at her. I'd resolved to stop trying to hide it, since she really seemed to enjoy people (or at least me) gawping at her. As if to reinforce that impression, Meredith smiled brightly and spun around once. "How's this guess on what I should wear?" she asked confidently.
Her naturally golden blonde hair waved around her quirky, beautiful face in its usual curves, though the do was subtly different from what I'd seen before, as if she had asked her hair to, "wave casually." She wore a soft, white, cotton t-shirt with a beautiful collection of variously colored flowers hand-painted across the front and down around one side. The neck was wide, and it hung slightly off to the other side, giving a glimpse of an emerald green bra strap. For a thirty-five year-old woman who could, and habitually did, go bra-less, that strap just seemed like a subtle statement. She sported a sleek, perfectly fitted pair of pale blue jeans that proclaimed to the world just how slender her waist, flared her hips, rich her ass, and incredibly long her legs were. On her feet, she wore a pair of, I shit you not, blue canvas KEDS. She looked exactly like what she was--a stunning, natural beauty.
"Damn, Meredith," I breathed. "I swear, if you wore a Hefty bag, people would compliment you on your couture little back dress."
She actually giggled a little at that and replied, "Thank you. I'm GLAD I pass muster." I groaned at the crack. Apparently we were at the point where we could make garbage bag jokes with each other. "And let the record show," Meredith went on, suddenly in her courtroom voice, "that the witness is pretty tastily... I mean tastefully dressed himself." I smiled in return and she went on sternly. "Now Your Honor, would you please instruct the witness to
finally
tell the court where in the Hell we are going this evening?"
I grimaced and replied, "I've probably overblown your expectations with all my secrecy! Sorry. I thought that we could go take a walk at the Botanical Gardens and check out the Christmas lights." I shrugged a little. I needn't have.
"Wonderful!" exclaimed Meredith, actually clapping her hands. "I haven't been in years, and I always loved it."
"Shall we then?" I asked, ushering her a step toward the front door.
"Absolutely," replied Meredith but made no move toward my car. "But I think I will drive tonight."
"Uh, excuse me?" I asked, bemused.
She smirked a bit at me. "Much as I love the Tesla Experience," she said, mocking my admitted obsession with my car, "a gorgeous night like this calls for something your car isn't: a convertible." I bowed at that hesitantly, not wanting to admit any fault in my baby. "Come now, Scott," Meredith cooed at me over her shoulder as she started toward the garage, "don't you want to go riding topless with me?"
Meredith's Mercedes 500SL (AMG version) was indeed a very sweet ride. The top was already down and we hopped in. I realized that I had forgotten how pleasing engine noise could be as the car purred out of the garage under Meredith's direction. When we reached the Interstate, she really let it out and we literally roared smoothly down the massive multi-lane highway, wind blowing in our hair with gay abandon....
Until we hit the stupid late rush hour traffic in about two miles and groaned down to a miserable fifty miles an hour the rest of the way. But we spent that time laughing about the drive that might have been.
The entrance to the Botanical Gardens always seems a little overgrown to me, but it was beautifully lit that night as we passed in and down the narrow entrance lane. The glow of millions of lights appeared ahead of us as we drew up to the valet station. The three young dudes waiting at the little kiosk to park arriving cars seemed torn over which to drool over more, the Benz or the driver. I didn't blame them for feeling the dilemma, but for my money, the answer was clearly the driver.
I had never been to the gardens for the Christmas lights before, and as she had said, it had been years for Meredith. They had upped their game since she had last been there for the holidays, and we both gasped repeatedly in wonder at our glorious surroundings. Groves of trees were encrusted in light blue fairy lights. Rainbow tunnels of light had been constructed between areas of the grounds, each one feeling like a Tunnel of Love. One garden was such a sea of clashing ethereal blue and green that it looked like a scene from that movie Avatar.
There is a giant topiary sculpture of a dryad's head with long, flowing waves of hair that is a real showpiece of the gardens. I remembered that it had actually turned me on a little bit on my last visit, back when I was just hitting puberty. It was re-christened The Ice Goddess for the duration of the Christmas season, and her 'hair' was illuminated with waves of blue and white lights.
I stared at the topiary and murmured, "Damn! She is hot all over again." Meredith just laughed, wrapped her arms around one of mine, and laid her head on my shoulder as we stared at the installation. In flats, she was actually an inch or so shorter than me, and I honestly found that a little weird.
Almost immediately upon arrival, we had found someone selling wine and we walked the grounds, each with glasses of chardonnay. We were always holding hands, or linking elbows as we drifted from one area to the next. Our conversation was quiet but continuous, always centered on the exhibits we encountered but drifting off from each thing we saw to related matters.
The only bummer was that the good weather had brought out quite the freaking crowd. Dark nooks or quiet spots devoid enough of people for me to pull Meredith to me and kiss her softly were few and far between, though I looked for every one I could find. And we never were alone enough for me to even think of copping a feel, though Meredith did have the guts to grab my ass once when we turned away from looking up at a tree that was dripping in animated icicles.
It wasn't like we were pressed in by people, but there was always someone looking. In fact, given the beauty I was walking with, there were always
lots