Page 48 of Flying

[12/28 12:22 a.m.]

River:

Hello?

[12/28 7:47 p.m.]

River:

I’m cutting my trip short if I don’t hear from you

Delia:

[sends photo of Seth reading with a beer, the town elders at their usual table eating lunch over his shoulder]

The building is still standing, things are fine, it’s two more days

thirty-four

Lily

Every day is filled with stops for more art, beer, whiskey, and food to see how people tie the city into their individual location. Our afternoons are spent exploring and writing down ideas for The Featherweight. The public physical affection like hugs and hand holding continue, but I’m feeling cautious. My heart has a way of forgetting what it signed up for and daydreaming herself very far from reality. When we make our way back to my place, we still fool around regularly and fall asleep snuggled together. It feels so easy, I wish I could bottle it up and keep things here like this.

December 29th

This morning startsour final full-day together in this little bubble we created, and I plan to take full advantage of it. We are pressed together and kissing our way towards the shower after brushing our teeth, like every morning this week. Once in the warmth of the water, I take the soap and lather my hands to rub his shoulders and feel the swell of his muscles, the bumps and veins of his biceps, and the planes of his pecs. The soft tufts of dark brownchest hair clumping and swirling under my sudsy touch. I run my hands along his sides, his back, and down his bubble butt, giggling slightly.

On a soft kiss to my mouth, River asks, “What’s so amusing?”

“The last book club pick was a sports romance, and I am starting to understand the obsession with hockey butts, that’s all. Wait, do you still skate even? What do you do when you aren’t at the bar? What do you want to have Vacation River keep doing at home?” I bite my lip and his thumb pulls it out from my teeth. I just know that most of the time when someone wants more, they find it after me, so I’m holding my breath because as much as I can’t stand giving him up to another woman, he deserves the good luck. I feel his touch drift down towards my own behind and with a little squeeze he presses me closer.

“What do I want,” he repeats back to me, pressing his hard length against my thigh with a little grin.

I gaze down at the impressive manhood, and then up at his face, “Well, yes. I know that part, you haven’t exactly hid this desire. I meant more than that, but I guess we can talk about it another time.”

We continue to wash each other’s bodies, fingers lingering like they are trying to memorize this in the event there isn’t time again before his flight tomorrow. Suddenly, I stop him. “Dude, no. You are basically promising to give me a UTI if you use soap as lube.” He is clearly unaware, and raises his hands like he is surrendering to the police. I reach over him to remove the shower head, first spraying him down before myself. I linger a moment longer than needed over my pussy, humming appreciatively as I feel the pressure building against my clit.

Hands clear of soap, River proceeds to touch me until I’m panting and moaning in his arms. When my knees are too weak to continue standing, he presses his weight against me, the cold tiles reminding me of the morning before he arrived.

“You know, my toys were supposed to be put away. I was not sure you and I both were going to want this and I had tried to get it out of my system before. I just messed up cleaning up, as usual.”

He throws his head back laughing. “I’ve never been so happy tohear that you forgot to put something away, now put those legs around me.”

A bit nervous, I ask, “Won’t we fall?”

He carries me over to the sink, before pushing himself in to the hilt. “No, darling, but we might fly,” he says before he fucks me like he’s also afraid he’ll never be given the chance again.

After we cleanup for the second time that morning he asks a vague, “You… did? Didn’t?”

Gazing down at my bathmat, I repeat back his words from the start of the week, “Honesty over ego right?” I watch my toes brush the fibers back and forth refusing to meet his eyes.

“Yes, honesty. Always be honest with me.” He tilts my chin so our eyes meet.

“Then honestly, I’m good and no, I didn’t, but I’m good. And while you might want to redirect this back to the other room I’ve had a little surprise up my sleeve. I didn’t want to jinx it, but we got really lucky. A resort client, the Hayden Group, was supposed to be here for the new year but there was a major snowstorm set to hit and disrupt their travel plans. Instead of canceling their tour of a local aero-garden and community farm project, we’re going.”

What I don’t let him know is it is on the same property as a Michelin Star restaurant. I called and convinced the team to keep the reservation and reduce it to two, and since they had pre-paid for their tour and meals the place was happy to keep us as a small party. It is the most wonderful cap off to the week for River; dinner at the highly coveted Japanese restaurant that uses vegetables grown directly on-site in vertical hydroponic planters.

Arriving at the outdoor section, we see a slender man with a bushy mustache and day-old stubble approach in skinny jeans, boots, and wooly socks showing. His hat is pulled low towards his glasses, and his coat collar is up over his neck. Despite the usual warm daytime weather, there’s been a cold front heading our way and today has been a big drop in temperature. He introduces himself as Silas, and begins to move us towards a small garden shed with heat lampsattached outside. There’s an indoor portion above the restaurant that we’ll head into shortly, and Silas is gunning for that it seems.

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