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I reminded myself that she was too young and that I should be getting ready for today's journey.I noticed that I was having problems of my own and was trying to figure out how to stand up without her noticing my current excited state. I figured that the safest was to wait for her to turn around completely before I did and then I would try to ease my way to my cot and dress. The denim in my jeans should, uncomfortably, mask my condition.It didn't work. As soon as I was half way up she turned around to get my plate. I was standing at attention while she stared captivatingly at it. She kept walking to me as I stood.Placing her hand on my chest, she looked up into my eyes "You do want me."Slowly stroking my chest. "Why are you trying to dump me off at Gamma's then?" I was stiff as a board and trapped. I reflexively looked down and saw the rise of her breasts under her shirt.Shit I shouldn't have done that."You are a good man. Kind, gentle, strong, caring, beautiful" deeper blush, "You. ..it couldn't have been too long. You heard the sound again over the quiet crackling of the fire...footsteps in the snow coming toward your front door. They stopped, and then a gloved hand rapped softly on the heavy wood.You got up and went to the door. "Who's there," you called out. You were glad you had bolted the door securely as your mother had taught you."Snow shoveling, ma'am...at your service." The voice through the door sounded friendly and familiar. You peered through the peephole just as the tall person in a heavy hooded coat turned away and began shoveling the snow from the short walkway with a long-handled snow shovel. That must be Mr. England, or Engleman, whatever his name was, from two houses down and across the street. He had waved when you jogged past his house the other evening, and you had heard him call to his children to come home for dinner.You watched him clear the driveway near the garage through the living room window before returning to the couch. What a nice.
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