"You bury it a little over twice the size of the bulb."
John watched as Julia, already kneeling, bent forward onto all fours.
"For most bulbs, it's pretty easy to see which end is up."
Julia pressed the bulb down into the hole she had dug and scratched at the nearby soil to cover it. John's attention was elsewhere.
Julia had been John's neighbor for only three months and he had already chatted with her numerous times over the fence. She was a good gardener and always had some tip for him. He soon discovered they were both married to homebodies. Her husband didn't like to be with other people. John had only seen her husband outside the house once since they had moved in. Julia said he stays in his room all day listening to old jazz recordings. John's wife rarely left the house, except to shop. John spent most of his spare time in the garden, just like Julia. Recently, he had started fantasizing about her. He was tired of imagining. He was pretty sure she was thinking the same thing, but she was waiting for him to make the move. He finally found the courage to ask her to show him some gardening tricks. She had invited him over for a Saturday morning class.
Instead of watching how Julia was planting bulbs, John watched Julia's butt, poking up in the air as she leaned down. The two perfectly rounded muscles wiggled and twisted against each other. John wondered if her movements were as stimulating to her as they were to him. Julia looked back over her shoulder and caught John staring. He shifted his eyes to meet hers, catching the flicker of a blush, followed by the softening beginnings of a smile. John smiled.
"See?" she asked, her smile growing with his. "You need to press in deep."
She turned back to the bulb, poking her fingers to compact the dirt. John got down on his hands and knees, steadied himself with a hand on her back, and leaned into her until his other hand was poised above the hole she was filling.
"You mean like this," he said.
John pushed his fingers down into the dirt, sinking, searching for and finding Julia's fingers. His body pressed into her shoulder, which she pushed back to support him. His mouth was so close to her ear that he had to restrain himself from sticking his tongue in it. Neither of them moved for a long second or two. John could feel her breathing faster. It was all the encouragement he needed.
"Or like this," he whispered, leaning his lips into her ear.
John's hand slid down Julia's back, then over her taut jeans. Julia jumped, bumping John away, and stood up. John got to his feet, didn't say anything, watched for clues, waiting for her next move. She remained silent, busied herself brushing the dirt off her hands, then brushing her knees. She looked up at John. Their eyes met for long enough. John leaned forward and when she didn't back away, he leaned in further and gave her a gentle kiss.
"John," she began.
