Reindling the Summer Flame

Note: The following is for that girl I just can't get enough of. She is my drug, my goddess, my...wow, just my wow. I'd love to read her comments when I finally get all the chapters in my head down. I think about her often.

Finally.

Peace and quiet. The family was all gone and he had two days to himself. He could just sit, relax, and do...nothing...or everything...or whatever. He poured himself a whiskey and walked out to the garage. It was dark but he knew his way around without concern, he cracked the garage door to let in some air, but not enough so his neighbors could see what he was about to do. He sat down in his lawn chair, pulled out a cigarette and lite it, inhaled, enjoyed the burn, and slowly exhaled. Mmmmmmm the taste of those things you weren't supposed to do. The hell of it all was he never liked smoking with others really, it was one of those things he'd picked up in college when he lived alone, a cigarette in the evening alone to just ponder and think. No more, no less. Why some people needed a pack a day he didn't know, why some screamed at the sight of second hand smoke he didn't understand. And off to the land of letting his mind roam he went, he took a second drag, a sip of whiskey and sunk into his chair.

How the hell did it get to be October already he wondered. Another year slipping by. It was fine, at this point in life time flies quick between work, kids, the wife, and all the other tasks that come along. He'd manage the finances, figure out how to save for the kids college, make supper most nights, do laundry, and the list went on. All the daily tasks made those few moments like this pure bliss. He took a sip and watched his cigarette burn, enjoying the pattern of the waves of smoke, and loving the feeling of breaking a rule - folks just weren't supposed to smoke anymore and he loved being his own man. Rather than dwell on the bullshit, he decided to find an idea or memory to enjoy.

He recalled being younger and how much he'd not really enjoyed college - he loved the learning, but there was so much other crap he didn't. He recalled high school and how much he'd enjoyed it - his main job was fucking off, being social, and having fun. His mind wandered to that all too brief time between college and commitment where he could be a selfish bastard and think only of his own needs. While marriage had offered him a lot, it was easy to see how addicting it could be for anyone, guy or gal, to enjoy being selfish on their own - not that he'd trade his family for it.

He pondered some of the amazing views he'd seen in his travels - snow capped mountains, big vast oceans, quiet ponds from long hikes like they were made for an Ansel Adams photograph. He could be surrounded by nature, no cell phone or contact with anyone, and feel like the world was all around him. He thought about the future, where the politics of the day would go, what the next great scientific discovery would be, or what man's next great adventure would be in the great beyond. He took a gulp of whiskey and a long burn off his cancer stick.

As he exhaled he realized a nice buzz had set in and he embraced the relaxing feeling. And then, as happened all too often, his thoughts wandered to women in his past, but one in particular. Mmmmmm... she was so many things. Short, delicious, innocent, naughty, naïve, voluptuous, smart, sweet, sassy, sexy, and ...vulnerable all in one. Of all his vices, she was the one he would never be able to quit. You didn't get over a gal like her, you just embraced with both arms the fact you'd had anytime with her at all. His wife and kids needed him, he'd never leave them, but he needed his memories with her.

His mind started wandering all the fun ones; he remembered when he first recalled meeting her as they worked the bean fields together, how she'd visited his high school (and the blue shirt she wore that day), her quiet and unassuming ways then, ... he thought about the night he asked her out, how much fun it was to flirt and talk with her, to hear her stories, how he'd nearly fainted the first time he saw her jaw dropping breasts. That first night they kissed, she'd run her hands up his shorts, but just barely play with his package, and those so many nights he'd tease her but not enter her until he realized she needed to be the one to make a man of him. Of course if he saw a purple swimming suit of any kind, she was the first thing in his head, and of course the first night he discovered she enjoyed wearing a thong to frame that perfect ass of her. Being the ornery guy he was he learned this by putting his hands down her pants, in public, after watching a movie with her. He couldn't help it, she oozed sexuality in the most elegant way (though no 21 year old boy knows what elegance is at the time) ...he finished his whiskey and took another puff of his poison. So many memories.

He headed back inside, poured a short one, and sat down. His mind wasn't changing subjects now, he was hooked. There was never too much time that went on between times that he'd think about her, and to be sure this included some very explicit fantasies. He wondered if she still thought of him and if she touched herself while doing so? What were her fantasies about him? Were they on a beach, in a hotel, a locker room walking on him in the shower, at a lake?

He shot his whiskey and headed to the bedroom, it was time to scratch his itch.