Mature That Summer

This is a new sort of story for me. For one thing, I'm using a song by one of my favorite singers as inspiration. If you know the song, hopefully you understand where this story is coming from. Personally, I've always had a very vivid picture in my mind of what this song is about, even before I was experienced in the ways of men and women. Second, I've never written anything in the first person from the point of view of a man. So I apologize ahead of time if I've got any of the 'feelings' wrong. And finally, this story takes place roughly early-nineties and late-seventies. The song was released in 1992 and I've made my narrator 35 years old.

As always, thank you for taking the time to read my story. If you like it at all, please let me know. Your positive feedback encourages me to continue writing and without such encouragement I would be lost; adrift in a sea, bereft of love and adoration. Won't someone save me, please! (Just kidding! I enjoy a little melodrama every now and again.) Please read and enjoy!


"What's the matter Erik?" The woman lying in my arms asks, twisting to peer back at my face.

We are lying in my bed, spooning post-coitus. Her hair is in my face and while I'd found it lovely upon first meeting her six weeks ago, now I want nothing more than to push it away from my nose. Her gently curved ass is pressed firmly against my groin and although I feel the faintest stirrings of arousal, I know it isn't because I am attracted to her.

At her question I realize I can't put off the inevitable any longer, however much I'd been hoping to avoid this. Sighing, I move away so that she rolls over and props herself on her elbows to look down at me. I smile but I know from her expression that it isn't fooling her.

"Erik," she says my name again and I cringe inwardly to hear it fall from her lips in such a tone; as though I am a wayward child and her the nanny trying to straighten me up in time for dinner.

"Gloria, I'm sorry," I say at last, not touching her, not attempting to soften the blow at all. "This just isn't going to work."

"What?" She asks, blinking at me and slowly moving into a sitting position. "I don't understand."

"It's over. I can't see you anymore." This isn't rocket science Gloria, I add silently.

"But...I thought...aren't we having a good time?" She asks, leaning forward and reaching a hand out to touch my face.

I draw back, not letting her touch me. Her hand falls to the bunched up sheets and her eyes slide away from my face. I draw in a breath, relieved that she's not freaking out.

"You're a bastard, Erik," she finally says, her voice low and no longer containing any of her earlier affection.

Hold the phone. Possible freak out in progress.

"You waited until after you'd screwed me to tell me this?" She demands, throwing a glare over her shoulder.

I shrug, as though to say, 'meh, I've been accused of worse.' So I'm a sexual being. So sue me.

Making a noise of disgust, she throws the covers off and rises to her feet. I watch as she moves around the dim room, retrieving her discarded clothing. I wish I could say that watching her move made me regret my words to her but instead all I see is a golden brown curtain of hair and a slash of tanned skin.

With another huff, Gloria straightens up and tosses her raven-colored hair over her pale shoulder, flashing her furious blue eyes in my direction. I know that she's waiting for me to apologize but I can't bring myself to do it. It's over and just because it isn't her fault doesn't make it less true.

"I hope you know what you're giving up here, Erik," she says as she stands in front of me, clutching her clothes to her body.

I don't respond. She spins on her heel and stalks out of my bedroom. As she disappears from view, I flop back against my pillows, breathing a sigh of relief. I listen to the sounds of Gloria dressing herself in the front room and close my eyes in an attempt to shut out the noise. She is muttering to herself and after what feels like an eternity, I hear the front door slam, rattling the wall hangings.

It's not her fault. Truly. How can it be her fault when she never even knew Alice? With a sigh, I roll over and bury my face in the pillow, trying in vain to erase the picture of the woman from my mind. But she never went away. No matter where I am, no matter what time of day, no matter who I fuck, Alice is always with me.

After a few minutes of tossing and turning, I decide to get out. It's not that late, maybe just past midnight and there's no way I'll be able to fall asleep now.

I dress quickly and throw on only a light jacket before grabbing my wallet and car keys and heading out. I jog down the steps of my apartment building, avoiding the elevator as usual. Part of the reason I am still in such great shape at the ripe old age of 35 is that I run on a regular basis and lift weights at the local gym. Unless I'm extremely tired or drunk, I always take the stairs.

Outside, the fresh air calms me and I suck in a deep breath, hopping from one foot to the other. Once that's out of the way, I hurry up the dark street to where my car is parked. I get in, start the engine and start driving.

It's only when I hit the city limits and see the endless fields beginning to stretch on all sides that I realize what I've done, where I'm headed.

After another three hours, I see the buildings in the distance and pull off the deserted highway, parking the car on the shoulder. I keep my eyes focused on the far off shadows of a barn and farmhouse as I turn off the engine and get out. I'm afraid suddenly as I walk around the car; afraid that someone might see me and come after me with a rifle or something. Then I laugh out loud, the sound swallowed up almost immediately by the empty expanse surrounding me.

I lift myself onto the hood of my car and lean back against the windshield. The tall stalks of wheat move one way and then the opposite as the night wind sweeps across the fields. Eventually my eyes stray from the farm buildings to the sky and I am still smiling as I watch the clouds slide slowly across the stars, alternately blocking and revealing the cosmos to me. Slowly, I lose myself in the memories, allowing myself yet another moment to wallow in them.

That summer, I think and grin. I lift my hands and place them behind my head as I cross my legs. That was the summer...

Nothing.

But.

Wheat.

Fields full of wheat. Endless miles of wheat.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," I grumbled as my father slowed to turn down a gravel road off the highway. I sulked on my side of the car, chin in my hand. I was pissed as hell that my father was driving me to this god-forsaken farm to work for the summer.

"I didn't talk you into anything," my dad replied mildly, not looking away from the windshield. "Your mother and I warned you that if you didn't hold up your end of the bargain, you'd be working where we chose this summer."

"You didn't say you'd ship me off to some middle-of-nowhere-hole-in-the-wall-land-of-nothing-but-wheat-farm!" I retorted, finally turning away from the window and directing the full force of my glare at him.

He just smiled. "If you pull up your grade-point average next year, then you can work wherever you like, Erik," he said. "But until then, this is where you'll be."

"This is so not fair."

"The deal was we'd pay for college as long as you kept your grades up," my father went on, slowing down as the farmhouse grew larger at the end of the driveway. "Pouting and yelling isn't going to change the fact that you failed two courses and barely scraped by in your other three."

I refused to say anything else. My father must have realized that because he remained silent until pulling to a stop in front of the farmhouse. I looked up, my eyes sweeping along the framework of the ancient building and narrowing when I saw the shape of the roof. It dipped in some spots and several shingles were missing. The window frames were in some serious need of painting and the front storm door was hanging precariously from one hinge.

One good storm and that thing is coming right off, I thought with a sigh.

"Come on, Erik," my father said to me, opening his door and getting out.

I obeyed, knowing myself to be completely screwed. I followed him around to the trunk where we pulled out my two suitcases. Then we walked up the front porch steps - which creaked unbelievably ominously - and knocked on the front door. I stood there, looking down at my feet and scowling, wanting to be anywhere else with every fiber of my being. After a minute I heard footsteps from inside and my mind began formulating several possible pictures of the owner.

My father had told me she was a widow, who periodically hired students to help on her farm. She'd apparently been living alone at this place for almost ten years since her husband passed and somehow she'd managed to keep the land for herself.

I pictured a decrepit old spinster, surrounded by cats and that smell that always seemed to accompany anyone over a certain age. I imagined that she had stringy white hair, all coiled into a bun and thick glasses, which likely did nothing for her vision. She'd shout at me because she was deaf and cackle like a witch when she laughed. All this and more crossed my mind in those moments leading up to meeting her.

Instead, Alice answered the door.

She smiled as she greeted my dad who held his hand out to shake and I saw that her teeth were not actually yellowed and falling out. They were two quite perfect rows of white. The hair, although pulled away from her face, was not stringy or white. It was a lovely brown color, lightened in streaks by the sun. Her face was darkened with a tan and there were lines at her eyes and around her mouth but when she smiled again, they disappeared, sliding seamlessly into the face of a beauty.

"Erik," my father said, his voice breaking into my silent study. "Erik!" He said again, louder this time, accompanied by a hand clap on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, Ms. Jenkins, he's been in a bit of a bad mood all morning."

"I have not!" I replied swiftly, feeling my face color immediately.

My father merely raised his eyebrows at me and looked back at the woman before us. "Erik, this is Alice Jenkins," he said. "She's the owner and operator of the Square One Farm."

"Nice to meet you, Erik," she said to me.

I think I said something along the lines of, "Nice to meet you too," but I could never be sure after that moment of anything I said.

Beside me, my dad chuckled and patted my shoulder. "I'm sure Erik will be able to help out with a lot around here Ms. Jenkins."

"I hope so," she said and the smile on her pretty face drooped a bit, revealing something of her age. "There's certainly enough to keep him occupied for the entire summer."

"Glad to hear it," my dad said.

I frowned at him but he only smiled.

"Well, I guess I should be off," he said then, shaking Alice's hand once more. "Erik, walk me to the car, will you?"

I nodded and followed as he strode back across the driveway. He faced me and placed two hands on my shoulders, forcing me to look into his face. His mouth moved but I can't say for sure what he said to me. All I could think about suddenly was Alice's smile and the way small bits of hair had come loose around her face.

"All right?" My dad said and patted my shoulder, jerking me back to reality.

"Yeah, Dad," I mumbled and suffered a light hug, feeling my face flush yet again.

"Take care of yourself and remember to call your mother every Sunday," he told me and got in the car. "I'll see you on August 31st Erik!" He called out the window and drove away.

I turned around and slowly made my way back up the porch to stand in front of this woman who was my boss for the next three months.

"I bet you must be tired from your trip," she said with a smile and I was rendered immobile and mute. She looked at me for a minute and the whole time I wondered if she thought I was a complete idiot. But she just opened the front door and grabbed hold of one of my suitcases. "Come on, I'll show you to where you'll be staying. You can rest for today and we can start in the morning."

I watched her disappear inside the house, swallowed up by the shadows entirely before I jumped to action, lifting my other suitcase and following her quickly. I hardly noticed the interior of the house. All my attention was focused on the body moving ahead of me.

Alice had a pretty face and an absolutely stunning figure. I may not have dated a lot of women at this point in my life but I knew what I liked. She had long legs, encased snuggly in dark jeans. Her shirt was loose and not fitted but her shoulders were narrow and feminine. Then she began to climb some stairs and I had to suck in a breath when confronted with her slender, belted waist and her perfectly round ass. Somehow we made it up the staircase off the side of the kitchen and it led to a small room over the garage with a sloped ceiling and gabled windows.

"This was my nephew's room last summer when he stayed with me," she said. "He said it got a little cold at night but otherwise he didn't seem to mind it." Her face turned to me and I felt a little lost suddenly as I looked into her green eyes. She smiled again as she set down the suitcase and stood aside, allowing me space to walk further into the room. "Hopefully you aren't too cramped in here."

I surveyed the space and shook my head slowly in response to her remark. It was small, with a bed pressed in one corner and a dresser on the opposite wall. There was also a rocking chair in one corner by a window with a blanket thrown over it.

"Well, I guess a young man like you doesn't need a lot of space," she said with another smile, still standing near the door.

I nodded at her as I set my other suitcase down near the bed. She cocked her head to one side and studied me quietly. I felt myself blush yet again under her scrutiny.

"You don't say much, do you?" She asked.

I shrugged. "I guess," I mumbled and looked down at my feet. Damnit!

She laughed and I thought I'd pass out from the bright, ringing sound of it. "Don't worry, Erik," she said. "I don't mind if you're shy. I spend most of my time talking to myself here anyway so it won't make much difference."

I found myself smiling back at her and she nodded as though satisfied with that progress.

"I think I'll let you get settled," she said after a moment. "Come down to the kitchen when you're ready and I'll make something for you to eat."

I nodded and watched her turn and leave me alone in the bedroom. Exhaling sharply, I sat down on the edge of the bed and held my head in my hands.

Although my mom and dad thought they'd been doing the right thing by sending me to college to further my education, they had no idea how difficult it had really been for me. My grades, although decent and steady all through high school, had gradually dropped during my freshman year of college. Not because I was stupid, although after the past ten minutes I felt like a moron, but rather because I couldn't focus in any of my classes.

For starters, my roommate and I did not get along. He was a complete genius and not a nice, nerdy genius, but a haughty, know-it-all genius who chose to remind me of my inferiority every day. I was accepted on the football team but spent the entire season watching games on the bench, assigned to towel duty. Spring didn't offer much improvement in the way of extra-curricular activities since track wasn't as 'sexy' as the contact sports. I ran anyway, since it seemed to be the only outlet for all my frustrations, socially and sexually.

To top it all off, I had absolutely zero luck with the girls on campus. I think I was rated somewhere between the first year dropouts and those who spent their time reenacting the sixties.

And now here I was. Stuck at a farm in the middle of nowhere with a veritable goddess and I couldn't even put together a complete sentence.

This was going to be a long summer.

As it turned out, the time began to flow by almost at a breakneck speed. True to her word, Alice started me working around her place the very next morning. It began with odd jobs on the house itself; fixing the front storm door and sanding and painting the window frames. I spent a week on the roof fixing as much as I could and installing new shingles everywhere I could get too, especially over my own bedroom.

It had been during the first rainstorm that I realized why Alice's nephew had said it got cold in that room. I also knew why the bed was shoved all the way in one corner; it was to avoid the leak directly above the center of the room. After my patch job though, no water came through during the next storm. It was still bloody cold but Alice provided me with extra blankets to help.

Alice did that a lot; providing me with everything I needed. She almost knew what I needed before I asked for it. After making me dinner that first night, she'd informed me that I was to fend for myself during the day but she'd have a meal on the table every night at 6 o'clock promptly. If I wasn't inside seated at the kitchen table, my food would go to the dogs. She said this with a smile though and as I got to know her better, I began to recognize her sense of humor.

She laughed a lot and we spent a lot of nights at the kitchen table just talking. After the first week or so I wasn't so tongue-tied around her and she opened up even more as a result.

Then the weekend of July the 1st rolled around. And something changed.

All day that day I'd been thinking about my family and friends back in my hometown. I knew the entire town would be decorated in anticipation of the holiday and I longed to join in the festivities. Alice had said that the nearest town, which was about an hour and a half away, did a big picnic but she didn't usually go.

"Mostly families," she'd said and smiled though her eyes didn't reflect the expression.

It was moments like that when I thought about how old she really was and how she'd been widowed at a relatively young age. She'd yet to tell me about how her husband died and I wasn't that much of a clod to bring it up. So I worked, on the house, on the barn and in the fields, doing whatever she asked of me and trying not to miss my home.

At six that night I hurried inside, the door almost slamming behind me. The wind was furious outside and I knew there was a storm rolling in.

"It's going to be bad, I think," Alice said with a smile as she carried a casserole dish to the table.

I nodded in agreement as I sat down. She sat across from me and told me to go ahead and serve myself. I dug in eagerly, feeling my stomach rumble with hunger. I hadn't stopped for food all day and it wasn't long before I was on to my second helping of everything.

"I'm sorry that you missed out on the celebrations today, Erik," Alice spoke up after we'd finished almost everything.

"It's ok, Ms. Jenkins," I replied, looking up at her. God but she was beautiful and I had to stop myself from checking for drool nearly every time I saw her close up. She did have some grey in her hair, around her temples and some silver strands on top of her head. But she didn't look old otherwise and she certainly didn't act like a spinster widow.

"Erik, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Alice," she said and rose from the table, carrying the dirty dishes to the sink.

"Ms. Jenkins, my mother told me to always address a lady properly," I replied and was rewarded with her broad grin.

"A lady?" She repeated, her eyes twinkling.

For the first time in weeks, I felt myself at a loss for words. I felt my face grow warm and looked down at the table, unable to look at her any longer. She laughed and I heard the water turned on in the sink.

"Your parents must be really nice people," she said as she began to scrub the dishes in the sink. "They certainly raised you right."

It was my turn to laugh. I pushed back from the table and stood up, picking up the remaining dishes and carrying them to the sink for her. "I don't know if they'd agree with you there," I told her and was rewarded with another lovely smile.

She's even prettier up close, I thought then.

"You don't have to stick around while I do the dishes, Erik," she said softly after a moment.

I blushed and turned away, realizing that I'd been staring at her. "I don't mind helping out, Ms. Jenkins," I replied and walked back over to the table and absent-mindedly pushed the chairs back into place.

"Erik, I will fire you this minute if you call me Ms. Jenkins one more time," she said then, turning away from the sink, water dripping from the cloth in her hand as she faced me.

I looked into her face, my mouth hanging open, ready to say 'Yes, Ms. Jenkins.' The look on her face was surprising though. She looked upset, actually angry with me for calling her that and I thought for the first time that there was an entirely different reason that she must not like to be called that.

"All right," I managed to whisper.

"All right," she repeated and turned back to the sink quickly.

As silence descended over the kitchen, I felt lost suddenly. I'd said something wrong and now Alice was upset. With me. I felt awful. I resolved to change that as soon as I could. I was, however, completely at a loss as to how.

"Uh, I think I'll go check everything outside before the storm hits," I mumbled and turned to the door before I could manage to say something else foolish.

Alice didn't say a word as I left, continuing to clean the dishes from dinner. I hurried across the back porch, checking the outer shutters as I went along. The wind tore at my clothes, rippling it coolly against my skin and I shivered as I moved away from the porch and the house.

As I worked, I tried to think of something to say to Alice to make up for upsetting her. When one particularly stubborn barn door refused to budge under my hands, I grew annoyed. With the door and with the woman back inside the farm house.

What right does she have to be upset with me for speaking to her with respect? I thought to myself, grunting with the effort to haul the large barn door shut. I've done nothing to deserve her snapping at me like that.

At last the great wooden door slid an inch, then another and finally I was able to close it entirely, dropping the latch and sealing it for the night. I huffed a deep breath after that was done and faced the rest of the yard, taking in the black sky and the rumbling thunder in the distance.

"Not long now," I muttered and shivered as another chill blast of air blew through the yard.

Hurrying again, I finished up sealing all barn and shed doors, latching all the gates and securing the shutters on the outside of the house. As I finally made my way back inside, the rain had begun and my shirt was wet across the shoulders when I reached the shelter of the porch.

I entered through the kitchen and saw that Alice had finished cleaning everything up and was nowhere in sight. Shrugging, I removed my boots and headed directly upstairs to my room. Once there, I quickly changed out of my damp clothes and threw on my flannel bottoms. Then I crawled shirtless into my icy bed and tried to warm myself.

The wind outside the house howled and minutes later the rain was pounding in earnest against the wooden siding and glass windows. Sleep evaded me as I lay there, listening to the rain and replaying the conversation in the kitchen.

My annoyance with Alice had faded somewhat but not entirely. I also still felt like a complete ass for doing or saying whatever it was that had upset her so. All in all, not a good recipe for a restful sleep. Sighing and shivering alternately, I tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable for I don't even know how many hours. Still the storm outside persisted and I couldn't get warm or calm enough to fall asleep.

I thought I was hallucinating when I first heard the tap on my door.

I ignored it, figuring it was a figment of my imagination and rolled towards the wall, hauling the blanket up to my neck. When the knock sounded again a minute later, I sat up abruptly, unsure now if I was actually imagining things. Again the knock came and I switched on the bedside lamp. I finally got up, wincing when my bare feet hit the cold floor.

"Did I wake you?" A soft and quiet Alice greeted me when I opened the door.

I was dumb-founded for several long moments. Then I realized what an idiot I must look like, standing there with my mouth hanging open and shook my head in response to her question.

"Good," she breathed and smiled.

I noticed then that she was carrying two steaming mugs of what smelled like coffee. "Is one of those for me?" I asked, finding my voice and sending a silent prayer up that it didn't crack under my nervousness.

"Yes," she answered, handing one of the mugs over.

Then we stood there in silence for another minute, each holding a coffee mug. I took that minute to drink in her appearance. She wasn't dressed in her usual attire of jeans and a button-up shirt. Tonight she had on a light blue dress with little green and pink flowers all over it. It hung limply from her slender form, not exactly accentuating her curves, but it certainly didn't make her look frumpy either. She looked beautiful to me.

"May I come in?" She asked, breaking the silence and before I knew what was happening, I'd nodded and she was walking past me into my cold bedroom.

As she brushed by me, her scent wafted up to my nose and I breathed deeply, my eyelids sliding low over my eyes. She was wonderful.

"I wanted to talk to you about earlier," she said, circling the room once before deciding to sit in the lone rocking chair. She didn't look up at me immediately, her fingers playing with the handle of her mug as she sat down. "And apologize for how I acted."

All my previous annoyance and frustration melted away in an instant. I slowly walked to the bed and perched on the edge, holding my own mug gingerly between my big hands. I faced her, regarding her shyly and silently. I wanted to appear as though I was mature and could handle a mature conversation but the truth was, I just didn't want to say something brainless and spoil the moment.

"It's just been so long since I've had someone around that I could talk to," she went on, taking my silence as a cue to continue. I wouldn't have stopped her for the world. "Like we do," she added a second later, still playing lightly with her mug. "I mean, I enjoy our conversations at dinner." Finally she looked up and I was caught immobile in her emerald gaze.

"Uh, m-me too," I stammered and flushed, hating myself all the while.

"Do you?" She asked incredulously, but smiled as she spoke to take the sting out of her words.

I nodded dumbly, refusing to say anything else.

"Good," she said. "I'd hate for you to not enjoy your time here, Erik. I mean, you've still got another two long months to go."

"Not long," I said suddenly and shook my head in accompaniment.

"What?"

"It's not long at all," I repeated, feeling foolish for even speaking. When she didn't respond, I kicked myself mentally. Now I'd have to say something else! "Um, I mean, it doesn't seem like a long time. Like, I haven't been here a long time either." Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"No?" She asked, raising her eyebrows but still smiling. That was encouraging, to say the least.

"Well, no. No, it doesn't feel like it's been all that long," I went on. "And two months doesn't seem long enough-" I stopped abruptly, halting my stilted words before I said too much. But as I met her steady gaze, I knew it was already too late. She'd heard what I was trying hard not to say and now I felt a new sensation tingling up my spine; embarrassment.

"Sorry," I mumbled and looked away, down at the steam curling up from my coffee mug.

"For what?" Alice whispered and the chair creaked as she moved.

It wasn't until I felt the bed shift beside me that I looked up again. I thought she'd been getting up to leave me alone but instead she'd moved closer, sitting next to me on the bed.

"For..." I began but then shook my head. How do you apologize for lusting after your employer? It's not like there's a course at university for this sort of thing.

"Don't be sorry, Erik," she whispered and her scent swirled around me, invading my senses.

I didn't say anything. I didn't move, didn't look at her. When I tried to lift the mug to my lips, she stopped me, her rough, calloused hand staying the movement. The feeling of her hands on mine brought a recent memory racing to the forefront. I'd hurt myself about two weeks ago, nailing wire to a fence post along the outskirts of her property. Alice had swiftly and carefully cleaned the wound in the kitchen, bandaging the gash and giving me a piece of cake to 'make it all better;' she'd said that with a smirk and a light-hearted laugh. As the memory washed over me, all I could think about was how I'd felt as her hands moved on my skin. They were rough and toughened from years of work on the land and in the house but she'd not been rough in the slightest with my wound. That had also been one of the many sleepless nights in this very room, thoughts and images of her crashing around in my skull, keeping me from a dreamless sleep.

But in the here and now, she gently removed the mug from my hands and set it on the nightstand, next to her own discarded mug. Then she turned to me again and placed a hand on my cheek. I think I stopped breathing.

"I know what you were going to say, Erik," she murmured, her fingers soft against my chin.

I swallowed and nodded slowly, unable to look away from her greener than green eyes.

"You were going to say that two months isn't long enough to really get to know each other," she went on, bringing her other hand up to touch the other side of my face. "Right?" She asked, pausing in her movements to gauge my reaction.

"R-right," I stuttered, unable to move; unwilling to move. I was afraid that at any moment the spell would be broken and I'd wake up to a humid morning following a wild rainstorm.

As if to punctuate my thoughts, a flash of lightning brightened the sky and illuminated the dim room. Thunder followed almost immediately and it did wonders to disguise the erratic thumping of my heart.

"Well, let's not waste any more time," Alice whispered in the silence that followed the thunderclap.

At first I didn't know what she meant. I felt entranced and all I knew was that her hands were moving on my skin. Then her face seemed to grow larger in my vision and I gasped out loud when she kissed me.

Her lips were as soft as they'd looked. She moved them against mine and I clutched at the blankets underneath my hands, uncertain as to what exactly was happening.

"Erik?" She whispered, pulling back and frowning slightly up at me.

"Wh-what...what are you doing?" I finally managed to ask, breathless and trembling.

She smiled then and leaned forward again. "Getting to know you better."

"Alice," I murmured against her lips as she kissed me again and still I couldn't quite wrap my head around her actions. She slowly moved her mouth over mine, her hands sliding from my face to my shoulders. Clutching my shoulders, she pulled herself closer, angling her body more firmly against mine.

I felt it then, the flutter of her heartbeat within her chest and realized that this was making her as crazy as it was making me. I eased back from her, breaking the kiss and looking down at her face. We didn't speak for a long, drawn out moment. I was breathing heavily and my heartbeat was obliterating all other sounds in the room; the rain, the thunder, the wind. All other sounds but the air rushing in and out of her mouth.

Slowly, I moved, lifting one hand from the bed to rest on her slim waist. Her mouth dropped open suddenly and I froze, afraid that she was going to yell at me for presuming. But she didn't yell. She didn't move or swat my hand away. So I brought my other hand up, releasing my death grip on the covers and placing it against her neck.

She smiled then, her eyes sliding shut and tilting her head to rest against my hand. Still the air moved between us, breathing in and out from our bodies and I honestly didn't know what to do next.

"Alice," I whispered her name, not wanting to spoil the moment but not wanting to stop it, either.

"What?" She replied softly, her eyes still closed.

"I don't..." I started and stopped. "I, uh, I mean, I'm not...I don't know..."

She opened her eyes then, smiling up at me with a tender expression on her gorgeous face. "Erik, it's ok," she whispered.

"But I've never-" I began again only to be stopped by her fingers pressing against my lips firmly.

"That's all right," she murmured and leaned forward to kiss me again.

It was then, that exact moment when all the pieces tumbled into place. I'd been swimming in a dream until the moment I realized that I could do this; that I would do this. And that there's no one I'd rather be with in that moment than Alice.

I kissed her back, my fingers tightening on her body and I relished in the feeling of her pressing against me. Her arms circled my shoulders, her light fingers sliding over my bare skin and raising goose bumps. Still, I was uncertain with how to proceed, what came next.

I needn't have worried. Alice knew what happened next and she guided me through it all.

Her lips opened under my mouth and when I felt the first hesitant touch of her tongue on mine, I grew hard instantly. I groaned against her, feeling the sudden restriction of my once loose pajama pants. But I refused to end this kiss. I played my tongue against hers, sliding along one side and then the other, pressing and pushing as she did the same.

At last, she was the one to break away. We were both gasping, our chests rising and falling rapidly. In the dim light from my bedside lamp, I could see her flushed cheeks and sparkling green eyes and felt a swelling in my chest.

I'd done that to her.

Then her hands swept low over my body, grasping the waist of my pants and pulling with one hand while pushing her other hand inside. I gasped when I felt her fingers encircle my stiff cock and had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from coming right then.

"Erik," she murmured, her voice warm against my neck as she moved closer, her hand moving on me. "You never cease to amaze me."

A breathless laugh escaped me at that and she removed her hand from my crotch. I thought she meant to leave me then, a sudden swift thought that was stupid and clueless and completely groundless. She simply moved away for a second to flick the light on the nightstand off. Then she was in my arms again, her lips against mine and her body moving closer.

I lifted her into my lap effortlessly, my weeks at the farm already strengthening me in ways I hadn't expected. Not that she was all that difficult to maneuver. In spite of her knowledge and strength out in the fields or around the house, she was a woman. A slender, soft woman who was just now melting against me.

Oh, and the way she was kissing me, her tongue doing things I didn't even know were possible. She pulled her lips from mine to plant hungry kisses along my chin, nibbling lightly as she moved on. Her hands were moving up and down my sides and back, leaving a wake of shivers and tightening muscles behind.

Suddenly she was groping for my hand and I turned my palm out to grasp her smaller hand. She kissed my neck as she pulled my hand down to rest on her leg. I made a noise that I think was a groan and squeezed my fingers on the revealed skin of her thigh. At her urging, I slid my hand higher, nudging the lightweight fabric out of the way. Her own hands moved back to my shoulders where she clung to me, still kissing and licking my throat.

I marveled at the feel of her; her soft skin under the pale dress, her hungry lips on me and her strong hands grasping my body. I wanted to kiss her again but I didn't want to stop stroking her legs; her marvelous legs. I slid my palm over her knee and up her thigh until I reached the fleshy bump of her bottom. She gasped as my fingers brushed the cotton panties hidden beneath her dress and her nails dug unexpectedly into my shoulders.

"Alice," I whispered her name reverently and turned my face to hers. She obliged, lifting her lips to mine.

As we kissed again, she moved off of me, lying back on the bed. I pulled away, watching her as she moved and smiled up at me.

"Come here, Erik," she murmured, crooking a finger at me in a 'come-hither' gesture.

My stomach turned over and I shifted to kneel above her. I didn't lean down to kiss her, though she reached for my shoulders again. I touched her cheek gently, devouring her with my eyes. Another flash of lightning lit the sky outside and the room, throwing bright, slanting dashes of light across Alice's face.

"Erik," she whispered with a smile, running her fingertips lightly over my chest. My nipples hardened almost painfully as she touched me. "Are you just going to stare at me all night?" She asked.

I blushed, gratefully that the almost non-existent light in the room kept her from seeing my embarrassment. "I just don't want to rush anything," I replied softly. "I don't want to forget this moment."

"Oh Erik," she murmured and cupped her hand behind my head, drawing me down to her.

I tried to resist, afraid my weight would harm her, but she laughed breathlessly and assured me that it was fine. She wanted to feel me against her. As she spoke, she moved one hand low on my body, slipping over my flannel pants and stroking my erection through the fabric.

"I want to feel every bit of you, Erik."

"Alice," I hissed out, tensing as I felt the throbbing reach an almost unbearable point.

"Undress me," she whispered then, relenting and releasing her grasp.

I obeyed, feeling helpless to do otherwise. I pulled her skirt up, feeling every inch of her soft skin as I did. She sighed and moved one way, then the other, helping me to remove the light dress all the way. She sat up and held her arms over her head, allowing me to pull the dress up and off. Then she lay back down, arms spread, welcoming me down to her.

Again, I obeyed, sinking down against her, breathing her in before pressing my lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around me, kissing me deeply, pressing her tongue between my lips. Her hips rose against me, pushing into me and I broke away from her mouth, sucking in deep gulps of air, trying to stave off the orgasm I could feel building at a furious pace.

"Erik," Alice murmured, lifting her head from the pillows to run her tongue along the outer rim of my ear. "I want you," she whispered as she continued to lick my ear.

"God, I want you too," I managed to gasp out, still feeling her hips rubbing against my painfully hard cock. God, it hadn't even been that long since I'd polished myself off; maybe two days. And still she had me on the brink of coming inside my pajamas.

"Take off your pants," she ordered, her hands moving down my sides to push impatiently at the waistband of my flannel pants.

I obliged with a swiftness I didn't even know I possessed. It must have impressed Alice because she laughed; a brilliant, tinkling laugh that I fell in love with immediately. I vowed then and there that I would do whatever it took to make her laugh like that again.

"No underwear," she remarked and laughed again as she stroked my sides. Her hand ventured lower and lower as I held myself over her.

I was immobile as she explored my body. Her hands were so unbelievably soft. I couldn't comprehend how she'd managed it; one minute I'd felt her work-roughened hands touching me and the next, all I could feel was the velvet stroke of her fingers. She ran her hands over my torso, pausing at my hardened nipples before moving lower, lightly scratching her nails over the sensitive skin just above my hardened cock.​