I slept late the next morning, feeling almost drugged from the intensity of the previous night's encounter. My legs were sticky with his semen, and I rubbed my fingers over them and licked them before getting into the shower.
I took my time over a leisurely breakfast of yogurt and berries and a cup of cinnamon tea with lots of cream in it at the little table on the porch. I smiled to myself for no reason, hugged my arms, rubbing their soft skin with my hands, listened to the birds going crazy in the tree next to me.
"Oh, darlin', please believe me...I'll never do you no wro-hong..."
The radio was playing a medley of Beatles tunes. "...All ya' need is love; ba-pa ba-papa; all ya' need is love; doo-too doo-doo-doo..."
"Somethin' in the way she moves, attracts me like no other lover..."
I closed my eyes and twirled in a circle to that one.
"...Straw-ber-ry fi-elds for-ev-er-r-r..."
Then I switched the radio off, and snatches of the songs played in my head all day long.
I sat in the sun and stared at my garden, watching it grow.
"I need to thin those carrots," I thought to myself. "I should transplant that chard."
But I just sat, too lazy to get up.
I closed my eyes, and I could feel Jonah inside me again, like an explosion. I thought back to the way he had pushed me against the wall, devouring me. Oh God! He was so amazing. I had had no idea what I was starting that day in my truck.
Like an unwitting camper, I had put a few sticks together and lit a match, and now the dry grass around it had caught and a nearby weed was going up, and the fire was spreading...
I took a deep breath and quenched it. Okay. Okay. Save it for later. Keep the lid on. Maybe I could see him tonight.
The day wore on slowly. I was just waiting for it to end. I had an idea. My breasts were swollen, my nipples hard, my cunt steaming with anticipation. I couldn't wait till it got dark.
I watched the four-o'clocks open their petals with minute movements and smelled their sweet fragrance, and looked at the delicate inner parts of white and fuscia, with their tiny hair-like projections in the center. I watched the sun set over the mountains, and waited for the shadows to darken. Then the moon rose in its glorious roundness, and I knew it was the perfect night.
I said goodnight to Paul and went into my bedroom. I looked in my closet, wondering what would be just right. I couldn't decide. Nothing struck me in particular.
I pulled off the top and shorts I had put on in the morning, then the underwear. I stood naked, loving the way it felt. Then I made my decision. Out in the country here, there probably wouldn't be anyone around, and the shadows of the night would cover me. I could duck behind a tree if I needed to.
I grabbed the afghan off my bed and threw it over my shoulders against the cool night air, slipped into some sturdy shoes, and climbed out the window. I laughed quietly to myself, relishing the rush of excitement that suddenly flooded me.
Jonah's house was a few miles away - not that far. He had walked to my house that day. I could walk to his.
I took a route through the hills along the river and avoided the highway. The moon lit my path easily, and I loved the feeling of freedom I had, alone with the crickets. An occasional dog barked in the distance, and some coyotes howled, but I didn't pass close enough to any houses to be seen.
Whenever I thought of Jonah, a lightening jolt shot through my clit and my belly. I was scared and elated, and both were making my body electric with apprehension.
I held the afghan up above my shoes, trying to keep it out of the way of the burrs and stickers that invariably stuck to it.
There were other houses on Jonah's road, and the bright lights shining from their windows startled me. I had to walk by the highway now, but I stayed down in the ravine, and ducked by trees when one or two cars drove by with their blinding headlights.
Then I saw his house. It was dimly lit, and I couldn't tell if anyone was home. Luckily, I knew Jonah's bedroom was a freestanding building in the back - I think it had been a garage; and I didn't think they had a dog.
Walking gingerly around the edge of the yard, I saw a light in his front window, dimmed by the tweed curtain hung over it.
My heart was in my throat now and pounding like it wanted out. Was he really there? Did I have the guts to pull this off?
Well, I couldn't even think about going home without seeing him now. So I went to his side window and looked in. He was lying on the bed, loud music blaring, his eyes closed.
Oh God. I didn't want to startle him too much. I tapped on the windowpane. No response. I tapped a little harder. A little harder. A little harder.
I rapped sharply with my knuckles. Then I banged!
His head flew up from his pillow and his body contorted into some awkward karate-like position. I would have laughed out loud if I hadn't been so scared - that his mother would hear me, or that he would come after me with a baseball bat, thinking I was an intruder!
His dilated eyes looked through the window without recognition, and I pressed my face close, hoping he could see enough of it in the diffused light. Then he did a double-take, and his mouth dropped open.
Looking around the room to make sure he was alone (I felt so paranoid - it was already obvious no one was there), I pulled the afghan open with my arms, raised from the squatting position I had been in to show him my face, and pressed my nipples and belly against the cold windowpane, like a strange pair of goggle eyes.
He went to the door then, threw it open, and came around to where I was standing.
