“That Surprise Visit Mae Me Happy ” Part -3 Continues…..
“Well, yes. I am. I see you have two left. Could I perhaps have both of them? They look so delicious.”
Her voice was a little louder than it had to be, her back straight and her smile beaming.
Oh, I loved her. She was giving me a graceful exit, making everyone see that she had no qualms about eating my pie.
My face went red and warm again as the double meaning of that thought settled in my brain, with dirty pictures to go with it.
“Of course, my pleasure” I managed.
She paid, and took her pies, thanking me a little too enthusiastically with a kiss on the cheek over the narrow table, like we were old friends.
Her skin smelled of exotic fruits, and the brief touch of her cheek was oh, so soft against mine.
When she disappeared inside the church, I realized I’d been staring again. I wanted her so much my heart ached.
I suddenly remembered my conversation with Jenny.
This.
This was how I knew.
My body, my soul, my whole being yearned for this woman. Ached for her touch, her smile, her laugh. Longed for a connection with her soul. Craved the alluring curves of her body.
As I packed up my boxes she came down the church steps again, walking to meet a man coming up from the parking lot. She met him on the grass right in front of our table, hugged him and they shared a small kiss.
My mood fell.
Of course. Her husband no doubt.
Well. At least I had a new friend.
A friend I would just have to lust after in secret, once again. Nothing new there.
The wicked thought of her perhaps secretly lusting after me back shot through my mind.
I slapped it down. Nothing good could come of me getting my hopes up on that.
And then she took his hand and they came towards me.
“JERRY, I want you to meet my husband, Andrew. Andrew, JERRY Meyer is the counselor at the high school.”
He smiled and offered his hand. I took it, and all hopes of ever having anything more than a prim and proper friendship with his gorgeous wife evaporated in an instant as I realized who he was.
“Hi, so nice to meet you Ms. Meyer. I’m Pastor Hanson.”
—
The ceiling in my room was the same off-white color it had always been. It didn’t matter how long I stared at it, it never changed.
Through the years it had provided a background for both daydreaming and despair. Now I was lying in my bed once again, and a mix of both played out in my mind as my eyes stared unfocused on the ceiling.
I couldn’t get Margaret Hanson out of my head.
I had tried.
I tried on the drive back home; I tried while cooking and eating a bacon and egg chokecherry jelly sandwich; I tried while making an attempt at reading my book by the fire; I tried while taking a shower before bed.
I failed.
Her eyes watched me from the rear-view mirror, her soft exotic body spray interlaced with the smell of bacon, her bright, happy voice spoke to me between the lines of my book, her enticing body haunted my shower.
My skin tingles under the covers, the touch of the material reminding me of my nudity with each little movement.
Thighs opening, hands moving, nipples brushing the cotton.
Fingers slowly dancing.
Imagining the warmth of her lips, the feel of that braid in my palm, the push of her breasts to mine.
That hot, curvy ass.
Her tongue tasted like my pie.
The orgasm hit me like a truck. Fast. Hard. Loud.
As I lay panting, the reality of my hopeless crush settled on my mind.
Ah. There it was.
My old friend, Despair.
She was the Pastor’s wife. Even if I just made friends with her, people would talk.
And I knew exactly what they would talk about.
The town dyke who had a taste for Pastor’s wives. That was one juicy story.
I couldn’t do that. Not again.
And she didn’t deserve that. They would aim it at me, but her reputation would be collateral damage.
So, I stared at the ceiling and tried harder.
—
Eggs, bacon, milk, cereal. Some frozen dinners.
Apples.
A shopping basket for one.
Ellie was at the register as usual.
“Hey, how’s it going?”
“Good thanks, you?”
“Yeah, not too bad.” She smiled. “Going to Bismarck for the weekend with Bradley.”
“Oooh romantic! So, you guys are getting serious?”
She blushed a bashful smile. It was cute. I was happy that she had finally found love.
“Yeah, it’s really good.”
“Well don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” I gave her a conspiratorial wink.
She blushed even harder.
I turned to say goodbye on my way out and walked straight into someone, dropping the groceries bag.
“Oh fuck! I’m sorry! I wasn’t…”
Margaret Hansen recovered from the collision.
“…looking.”
“No, don’t worry about it, no harm done.”
She was rubbing her jaw.
“Oh fuck, I mean, darn! I mean… are you ok?”
My forehead was sore. Her jaw must hurt.
“Yes, don’t worry. I’m not fragile. Oh, your apples!”