My boyfriend was here yesterday. He offered to trim the weeds that have taken over since we finally got some rain. This turned into more than 2 hours of raking, mowing, trimming, and general yard work that was much overdue. I dutifully offered glasses of ice water and leaned in the doorway openly gaping at his shirtless body, the muscles moving under his skin, his colorful tattoos animated and defined by a sheen of sweat. After lunch we fucked on the couch. I've a habit of softly biting into the muscle that runs from his neck to his shoulder as I come. My orgasm was unusually drawn out so that he had time to come, get hard again from my coming and have a second go himself before I'd completely finished. I love it when we aren't rushed. We could go all day with his stamina and my constant yearning for him. It's been nearly 3 years now and I'm as hot for him as day one. No, hotter.
After he left I had a cigarette on the deck. From where I sat I could see where he had brought the weed trimmer too close to the base of my husband's beloved pear tree, nicking into the tender bark in several places. My husband was expected home from work in 2 hours and by then the shadows would be long, but if he did notice the damage, I hoped he would overlook it. Surely the benefit of a neglected task done by someone else outweighs any offense done in the process, right?
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