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For nearly three years we had been waving and smiling from a distance as each day I walked the dog where he worked. I probably noticed him long before he noticed me, he'd seemed my type; slim, dark-haired and a little shy. Initially it was just if we spotted one another. Eventually he would recognise my car and stop whatever he was doing to acknowledge he'd seen me. Not surprisingly his workmates noticed this and they also started to wave and smile at me. While all this was good for a girls ego, it wasn't the same. If I didn't see him then the daylight dimmed a little but the fantasies remained.
The images flit through my mind, unbidden, unfettered and X-rated. Through the turning of the seasons each fantasy has kept me warm, made me smile. In spring and autumn he would be waiting for me under the trees. The sunlight would dance on his dark hair and I would approach him to drown in eyes of melting milk chocolate. The breeze would stop its silly games, insects would be silent and the world would still and compress herself into this one torturous moment. Then he would smile at me and everything would snap back into place.
I'd imagined pinning him roughly against a tree, any tree, the first one that was handy. That image alone would cause me to laugh aloud, sending other dog walkers scurrying past me with startled glances. His scent would send me into rapture, a mixture of the earth he works with and the grass he'd been cutting. Clothing would no longer be a barrier as they were quickly divested to allow hands, tongues and the breeze to explore every intimate inch of the body. Abundant ferns would become our bed, welcoming us softly, inviting us to stay awhile.
In summer we would picnic in the bunker on the fourteenth green. We would share a bottle of wine but ignore the food as we devoured one another. Winter would find us in a deserted field of pure white where our skin would be barely visible against the snow. The cold would be pleasurable, heightening our senses and quickening our blood. More intimate details cannot be shared for in their retelling there would surely be loss.
Of course the beauty and benefit of a fantasy is obvious. He is a little taller, I am a little slimmer and there is nobody else in the world at the same time as we are. Fantasies should not become reality, they lose something. That little something which make fantasies so much fun, the whole make believe aspect, the varied and rampant workings of the imagination.
Yesterday we lost a little something. He was there as usual and he waved half-heartedly at me but the smile was missing. I half smiled back and gave him a wave then walked on, into the woods with the dog. the meeting forgotten about. Thirty minutes later I returned to my car and discovered the reason for his disquiet. A small piece of white paper was tucked under the wiper. A name, a number and a simple message of 'ring me!' sent my body into shock. Blind panic flowed through my veins, illusions were shattered. Of course I had to call him, even though I already suspected how the conversation would go. He answered on the third ring and I was proven right.
"Hello"
"Hello, you left a message on my car asking me to ring"
A slightly shocked silence takes place where neither of us can get over the fact that I'd actually called.
"Would you like to go out tomorrow"
"I'm sorry, I can't"
"Busy?"
"Married"
He laughed and apologised. He hadn't known and he thanked me for calling anyway. How could I not have called him, how could I ignore him I see him nearly every single day, he makes the world a little brighter for me. Not that I told him that of course, that would be a little too cruel. An invitation to something not to be explored in reality.
Today I drove with some trepidation to the park. I needed to see him. I needed him to smile and wave to me, to assure me that my fantasies were safe. Today though there was no fantasy as I watched and listened for him. He was there somewhere, I know he was, but I didn't see him and now I'll have to wait until tomorrow.
The images flit through my mind, unbidden, unfettered and X-rated. Through the turning of the seasons each fantasy has kept me warm, made me smile. In spring and autumn he would be waiting for me under the trees. The sunlight would dance on his dark hair and I would approach him to drown in eyes of melting milk chocolate. The breeze would stop its silly games, insects would be silent and the world would still and compress herself into this one torturous moment. Then he would smile at me and everything would snap back into place.
I'd imagined pinning him roughly against a tree, any tree, the first one that was handy. That image alone would cause me to laugh aloud, sending other dog walkers scurrying past me with startled glances. His scent would send me into rapture, a mixture of the earth he works with and the grass he'd been cutting. Clothing would no longer be a barrier as they were quickly divested to allow hands, tongues and the breeze to explore every intimate inch of the body. Abundant ferns would become our bed, welcoming us softly, inviting us to stay awhile.
In summer we would picnic in the bunker on the fourteenth green. We would share a bottle of wine but ignore the food as we devoured one another. Winter would find us in a deserted field of pure white where our skin would be barely visible against the snow. The cold would be pleasurable, heightening our senses and quickening our blood. More intimate details cannot be shared for in their retelling there would surely be loss.
Of course the beauty and benefit of a fantasy is obvious. He is a little taller, I am a little slimmer and there is nobody else in the world at the same time as we are. Fantasies should not become reality, they lose something. That little something which make fantasies so much fun, the whole make believe aspect, the varied and rampant workings of the imagination.
Yesterday we lost a little something. He was there as usual and he waved half-heartedly at me but the smile was missing. I half smiled back and gave him a wave then walked on, into the woods with the dog. the meeting forgotten about. Thirty minutes later I returned to my car and discovered the reason for his disquiet. A small piece of white paper was tucked under the wiper. A name, a number and a simple message of 'ring me!' sent my body into shock. Blind panic flowed through my veins, illusions were shattered. Of course I had to call him, even though I already suspected how the conversation would go. He answered on the third ring and I was proven right.
"Hello"
"Hello, you left a message on my car asking me to ring"
A slightly shocked silence takes place where neither of us can get over the fact that I'd actually called.
"Would you like to go out tomorrow"
"I'm sorry, I can't"
"Busy?"
"Married"
He laughed and apologised. He hadn't known and he thanked me for calling anyway. How could I not have called him, how could I ignore him I see him nearly every single day, he makes the world a little brighter for me. Not that I told him that of course, that would be a little too cruel. An invitation to something not to be explored in reality.
Today I drove with some trepidation to the park. I needed to see him. I needed him to smile and wave to me, to assure me that my fantasies were safe. Today though there was no fantasy as I watched and listened for him. He was there somewhere, I know he was, but I didn't see him and now I'll have to wait until tomorrow.
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For nearly three years we had been waving and smiling from a distance as each day I walked the dog where he worked. I probably noticed him long before he noticed me, he'd seemed my type; slim, dark-haired and a little shy. Initially it was just if we spotted one another. Eventually he would recognise my car and stop whatever he was doing to acknowledge he'd seen me. Not surprisingly his workmates noticed this and they also started to wave and smile at me. While all this was good for a girls ego, it wasn't the same. If I didn't see him then the daylight dimmed a little but the fantasies remained.
The images flit through my mind, unbidden, unfettered and X-rated. Through the turning of the seasons each fantasy has kept me warm, made me smile. In spring and autumn he would be waiting for me under the trees. The sunlight would dance on his dark hair and I would approach him to drown in eyes of melting milk chocolate. The breeze would stop its silly games, insects would be silent and the world would still and compress herself into this one torturous moment. Then he would smile at me and everything would snap back into place.
I'd imagined pinning him roughly against a tree, any tree, the first one that was handy. That image alone would cause me to laugh aloud, sending other dog walkers scurrying past me with startled glances. His scent would send me into rapture, a mixture of the earth he works with and the grass he'd been cutting. Clothing would no longer be a barrier as they were quickly divested to allow hands, tongues and the breeze to explore every intimate inch of the body. Abundant ferns would become our bed, welcoming us softly, inviting us to stay awhile.
In summer we would picnic in the bunker on the fourteenth green. We would share a bottle of wine but ignore the food as we devoured one another. Winter would find us in a deserted field of pure white where our skin would be barely visible against the snow. The cold would be pleasurable, heightening our senses and quickening our blood. More intimate details cannot be shared for in their retelling there would surely be loss.
Of course the beauty and benefit of a fantasy is obvious. He is a little taller, I am a little slimmer and there is nobody else in the world at the same time as we are. Fantasies should not become reality, they lose something. That little something which make fantasies so much fun, the whole make believe aspect, the varied and rampant workings of the imagination.
Yesterday we lost a little something. He was there as usual and he waved half-heartedly at me but the smile was missing. I half smiled back and gave him a wave then walked on, into the woods with the dog. the meeting forgotten about. Thirty minutes later I returned to my car and discovered the reason for his disquiet. A small piece of white paper was tucked under the wiper. A name, a number and a simple message of 'ring me!' sent my body into shock. Blind panic flowed through my veins, illusions were shattered. Of course I had to call him, even though I already suspected how the conversation would go. He answered on the third ring and I was proven right.
"Hello"
"Hello, you left a message on my car asking me to ring"
A slightly shocked silence takes place where neither of us can get over the fact that I'd actually called.
"Would you like to go out tomorrow"
"I'm sorry, I can't"
"Busy?"
"Married"
He laughed and apologised. He hadn't known and he thanked me for calling anyway. How could I not have called him, how could I ignore him I see him nearly every single day, he makes the world a little brighter for me. Not that I told him that of course, that would be a little too cruel. An invitation to something not to be explored in reality.
Today I drove with some trepidation to the park. I needed to see him. I needed him to smile and wave to me, to assure me that my fantasies were safe. Today though there was no fantasy as I watched and listened for him. He was there somewhere, I know he was, but I didn't see him and now I'll have to wait until tomorrow.
The images flit through my mind, unbidden, unfettered and X-rated. Through the turning of the seasons each fantasy has kept me warm, made me smile. In spring and autumn he would be waiting for me under the trees. The sunlight would dance on his dark hair and I would approach him to drown in eyes of melting milk chocolate. The breeze would stop its silly games, insects would be silent and the world would still and compress herself into this one torturous moment. Then he would smile at me and everything would snap back into place.
I'd imagined pinning him roughly against a tree, any tree, the first one that was handy. That image alone would cause me to laugh aloud, sending other dog walkers scurrying past me with startled glances. His scent would send me into rapture, a mixture of the earth he works with and the grass he'd been cutting. Clothing would no longer be a barrier as they were quickly divested to allow hands, tongues and the breeze to explore every intimate inch of the body. Abundant ferns would become our bed, welcoming us softly, inviting us to stay awhile.
In summer we would picnic in the bunker on the fourteenth green. We would share a bottle of wine but ignore the food as we devoured one another. Winter would find us in a deserted field of pure white where our skin would be barely visible against the snow. The cold would be pleasurable, heightening our senses and quickening our blood. More intimate details cannot be shared for in their retelling there would surely be loss.
Of course the beauty and benefit of a fantasy is obvious. He is a little taller, I am a little slimmer and there is nobody else in the world at the same time as we are. Fantasies should not become reality, they lose something. That little something which make fantasies so much fun, the whole make believe aspect, the varied and rampant workings of the imagination.
Yesterday we lost a little something. He was there as usual and he waved half-heartedly at me but the smile was missing. I half smiled back and gave him a wave then walked on, into the woods with the dog. the meeting forgotten about. Thirty minutes later I returned to my car and discovered the reason for his disquiet. A small piece of white paper was tucked under the wiper. A name, a number and a simple message of 'ring me!' sent my body into shock. Blind panic flowed through my veins, illusions were shattered. Of course I had to call him, even though I already suspected how the conversation would go. He answered on the third ring and I was proven right.
"Hello"
"Hello, you left a message on my car asking me to ring"
A slightly shocked silence takes place where neither of us can get over the fact that I'd actually called.
"Would you like to go out tomorrow"
"I'm sorry, I can't"
"Busy?"
"Married"
He laughed and apologised. He hadn't known and he thanked me for calling anyway. How could I not have called him, how could I ignore him I see him nearly every single day, he makes the world a little brighter for me. Not that I told him that of course, that would be a little too cruel. An invitation to something not to be explored in reality.
Today I drove with some trepidation to the park. I needed to see him. I needed him to smile and wave to me, to assure me that my fantasies were safe. Today though there was no fantasy as I watched and listened for him. He was there somewhere, I know he was, but I didn't see him and now I'll have to wait until tomorrow.
Consider yourself redeemed Sleepy - that was fantastic.
It was just, perfect, faultless and a beautiful little tale that didnt go into too much detail and brought my imagination into play perfectly. Thats how writing should be done - you're like a modern day Dahl. Super, fantastic brilliant.
It cheered me up for 10 mins, now im off back to sulk in the afterglow of the shattered remnants of my lovelife.
It was just, perfect, faultless and a beautiful little tale that didnt go into too much detail and brought my imagination into play perfectly. Thats how writing should be done - you're like a modern day Dahl. Super, fantastic brilliant.
It cheered me up for 10 mins, now im off back to sulk in the afterglow of the shattered remnants of my lovelife.
Yeah, I liked it. Simple yet effective story.
Bull's-eye! That's the style. Wonderful.
*Phew, thank goodness, redeemed*
The nice comments warm the cockles of my little heart - thanks :)
The nice comments warm the cockles of my little heart - thanks :)
Yup, enjoyed reading that, very nice.
Top stuff. Keep it coming.
Beautiful, but I've got love troubles of my own, and now fantasy wants to become reality. It's too much to take. *Walks off into the shadows*
There's a career in porn for you yet Sleepy. Well done.
Dear Staffie(s),
Thank you.
Gratefully yours,
Me :)
Thank you.
Gratefully yours,
Me :)
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