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something about buying a lawnmower at the store, and cutting the lawn, putting it in the shed. minutes ticking away on the clock, he's coming on his boat as she notices her hand on the cabinet, surreal, dream-like. in the room together, electric, overcome by lust, her hand, gripping the pillow...
She stood looking at her hand, where it rested on the back of the wall phone she'd just hung up, after telling him how she was on her way to the store to get a lawnmower. He would be here in less than 6 hours. That was plenty of time for her to get the lawnmower, and mow the lawn. So she might as well get started. Shaking her head to clear the buzz, she headed upstairs to get dressed in some half-dirty clothes - not having showered, she didn't want to put on anything clean - yesterday's jeans, and the t-shirt she'd worn for a few hours the day before. 6 hours. Plenty of time... Dressed, her hair in a bun, she felt almost normal as she bounced down the stairs, keys in hand, and headed for the car.
The drive to town was only about 8 minutes, which was 6 more than she needed to surmise that her head was elsewhere, and needed more than a vigorous shake to clear it - like a near-miss accident at the end of her own driveway, because she was zoned-out, with her head in the clouds. "Must get a grip," she muttered to herself grimly, and shook her head again. She managed the rest of the drive, and the subsequent equipment purchase, with less distraction, though still seemingly engulfed in a haze. Having arrived back home and unloaded the machine, she made a mess of mowing but got it done, and made a home for the new lawnmower in the shed, after wiping it off to maintain it's cherry looks as long as possible. How long, now? 4 more hours? She could sit and watch each minute tick by on the clock...
Where had he called from? Some marina? Like where they keep boats? She knew he worked on a boat or a ship, though she was not sure which, nor what he did on the boat exactly, but the boat was coming to a town nearby, so he was stopping in for a visit. This would be his first time coming to visit her at this address, though he'd certainly been to visit her at several others, in various towns. She got out the sage, and began burning it's smoke into all the corners of the house. He deserved a special kind of attention, and she had every intention of seeing to his needs while he was there. She was cooking dinner, and would be showering and dressing closer to the time when he would be arriving, so she could be fresh. It had been a while since they'd see each other, personally turbulent years for each of them individually, but between them, only ever this secret, timeless romance. She stood looking at her hand, as it rested on the cabinet handle, frozen in the act of meal preparation as she fell back to daydreaming about that one time...
And later, after the meal she had carefully prepared, and after her shower, during which she used the fancy soap, and the upscale facial cleanser, after she had washed her hair, and finished off with the high-end moisturizer, drying naturally as she brushed her teeth and tongue, after she had slipped into that dress, applied eyeliner, and lipstick, powder and oil...after the air around them had turned electric the moment she reached out to welcome him, hand lighting briefly on his arm, that momentary pressure, enough to engorge his lust for her, so perfectly curated for his seduction...after all that, after all the slow, delicate touches on the backs of necks, and on collarbones, fingertips roaming over lips and into mouths..when she had already removed her long, delicate earrings, and placed them in a small ceramic dish on her desk, with a shy little 'tink', as they were already stretching out each other's sighs on her bed, she noticed her hand, all twisted up in the pillow she had been gripping as he drove her body over a wave of pleasure he created within her senses. She loved his visits, as they gave her the excuse she needed to summon her divinity, be worshiped, and allowed her to love him back, freely.
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