Home again

W got home last night.  Can you see me doing my happy dance?? I was so excited and nervous to show him what I’d done to his yard…fours days of hard labor, weeding, planting, shoveling, digging, hauling…and it looks so beautiful now and it was worth it all even the poison ivy to see how surprised and pleased he was when he saw it.  And somehow I managed to keep what I had done a secret, to actually surprise him (tho I hinted at it here earlier in the week and almost blew it.  lol)  I am just no good at secrets, really.  I lie poorly, I blush, I stammer, I backtrack…no hope of me ever being a poker player certainly, or at least not a good one.  You know what you’re getting with me, because it’s written all over my face, no matter how I try to keep it to myself.  But I was aided by the fact that it was dark when I picked him up so he couldn’t see the grin that I couldn’t keep off my face, my “I have a secret” face that I can’t hide, and then I asked him about his week with his OSO and at the event they went to, and kept him talking so that I didn’t have the opportunity to blurt out what I’d done and spoil the surprise.

And it was so so worth it to see his face, his grin, how amazed he was.  And though I was disappointed that he hadn’t read my blog at all while he was gone, I was glad that he hadn’t read the post where I almost gave it away.

So I had planned to pick him up at the airport and stay a while at his house to visit, but then go home, letting him have some space after being around people so much at his OSO’s and the camp event…but after we’d sat and talked on his back porch, looking out over the yard, drinking coffee, all I wanted was to stay over, to sleep with him, to feel his arms around me, his presence around me…  I was almost too self-conscious to ask if I could though, because of the now-dried but still unattractive poison ivy patches all over me.  He didn’t even hesitate, and stay over I did, sleeping in his bed with him where I had lain only days before and touched myself, alone, thinking about him, about his hands and his mouth on me, his words in my ears, the things he does to me and the things he makes me do and the way he makes me feel.  And throughout the night I would wake to his hands on me, stroking, mauling, cupping, holding, his leg thrown over me, his arms pulling me against him…holding me tight throughout the night…and it was just so utterly perfect.  There was nowhere else I wanted to be.  He was home–and so was I.

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