Emma (CLOSED - for Lay Z and TOG)

[TheOlderGuy]

Emma

I wiped the sweat from my brow and looked around the garden, content that all was right with the world. This IS my world. Who needed all the distractions of war, and economics, and pestilence when I could just sneak out here and pull weeds? It felt so good to be here again. All week I’d been run ragged by the demands of guys who wouldn’t know the difference between a snapdragon and a Komodo dragon if one bit them on the ass. Not only that but they didn’t have a clue what looked good in print. They had all these cosmopolitan ideas about what was going to sell their products, but they didn’t know shit about beauty. And if one more of them tried to pick me up with a phony bullshit line, well, I don’t know what I’d do . . . maybe ‘I’ would bite them on the ass. No, probably not, they’d probably like it too much, and then I’d have an even harder time getting rid of them.

At least out here in my garden, there were no guys, except for the birds. The cardinals had rediscovered my bird feeder after my last attempt at squirrel-proofing it, and the goldfinches had returned as well. Strange, how with birds, the males were so much more flamboyant, and with humans it was the women who were expected to get all dolled up. I hated it. It had never been my thing to buy into pleasing a man. Being six foot two was a hard enough row to hoe, without trying to seem all feminine about it. And besides, tits didn’t seem to be part of the package for me. I was bean pole all the way, and at twenty eight I wasn’t holding my breath that much was going to change.

I bent over and plucked a few more weeds from the kale patch, and was suddenly struck with the peaceful image of being naked out here. There was nobody around. What harm could it do? But what if my folks showed up unexpectedly? I peeled off my sleeveless blouse, already drenched in sweat, satisfied that I was at least partially following my heart, keeping it close by in case I needed to retreat behind a textile shield to greet someone.

I bet those cucumbers have fattened up. I wandered over to check out the mass of vines that had begun to produce prodigious fruits, and peeked beneath the canopy. Oh my God! How could they grow so much in a week? Plucking one after another, my arms were soon filled with more cucumbers than you could find at Mike’s Farm Market. As I straightened up I was startled to here a voice calling “Hello?” I turned to see a stranger’s face looking at me from across the garden. A strange man’s face. I clumsily tried to cover my breasts with the pile of cucumbers, dropping half of them on the ground. Who WAS I trying to kid, like I had anything to even hide.

“Yes,” it sounded feeble, “can I help you?”

 

[Lay Z Butterfly]

Grant

Knocking on the door (which quickly turned to pounding on it) I glanced at my watch yet again. This Emma woman had to look over these papers and sign off on them. Why was it that I had been told (forced) to go? Yeah, I was only 30 years old, but wasn’t it enough that I worked well beyond the hours of normal humans? What was I to do, can’t say no to the big cheeses thinking enviously. One day though, was my forgotten contemplation as I strode purposely to the back of the house (with the documents already looking rumpled since I had forgotten to put them in an attaché case). I stopped long enough to adjust my sweaty balls by giving them a quick move around when out of the corner of my eye saw a bobbing figure out in this huge garden area.

I continued to look out over the garden when I saw the figure again. My sunglasses were not helping because all my brain kept telling me was that a giraffe was out there. Blasted heat, I muttered while wiping the sweat from my forehead with a cloth handkerchief. Before calling out to what now was an image in my brain the “giraffe,” I walked closer with the giraffe paying me no mind.

As I approached closer, my mind soon realized that it was indeed not a giraffe, but a tall woman. She was picking rather large cucumbers and wouldn’t have realized that she was shirtless until some of the cucumbers started to tumble out of her arms when I called out “Hello”. Without a doubt, I had caught her off guard because even in the intense sunlight I saw her face blanch. The smallish globes of her firm, un-tanned breasts had two perfect rose coloured nipples smack in the center. Sucking on those nipples wouldn’t be a bad idea leapt out in my mind, but snapped back into reality when she asked if she could feebly help me.

I just stood there, taking it all in, this tall woman with just right breasts standing there trying to hold a bunch of cucumbers up to her chest so that I couldn’t see anything was too much. Without thinking, I burst out laughing; forgetting to be the so-called gentleman my mother always said I was to her friends.

“Would you happen to be Emma?” I asked between guffaws. It would be too rich if she was this Emma person that everyone talked about at work. The no nonsense ice queen that would rather bite the head of your dick off than lick it like nice girls did when coaxed. In addition, here she was shirtless, enjoying the sun topless…looking even a bit sexy. His cock had jerked at the sight of her now.

Perhaps, it wasn’t my best quality, but it was an honest laugh that came out of me. I knew she would think I was the biggest dick in the world, but I could change that- smooth out her anger if given half a chance.

I held the crumpled papers up and waved them at her. “Could you sign these?” I asked trying not to smile.

 

[TheOlderGuy]

Emma

I recognized him, from the office. I couldn’t tell you his name, but I’d seen him sniggering around, checking out all the girls, more than paying attention to his work. And here he was, in my garden, cultivating a story that would be told over and over around the water cooler. SHIT!

And, he was laughing right in my face, while he tried to give me a handful of rumpled papers. “Would you happen to be Emma?” I looked at him with my best ‘Who the fuck are you’ look. He seemed undeterred. . “Could you sign these?”

“Would you mind turning around?” I asked, steeling myself behind a most professional voice. He looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. “PLEASE!” a little too loud spurt out of my mouth. He seemed startled, but complied, pausing for a moment to look back over his shoulder as I set down the cucumbers on the garden table, and snatched up my tank top. I shot him an icy glare, and he looked away. Where the hell do they get these kids? Kids? He was probably older than me. But at twenty four I had at least grown up. I took my work, and everything else I did, seriously. But, as they say, girls mature much earlier than boys. I was beginning to wonder if men EVER grew up.

With my parts safely covered, and my dignity at least partially restored, I took a deep breath to try to dispel my instant contempt for this invader of my privacy. “What do you have?” He turned slowly around, opening his eyes one at a time, and for a sad brief moment I thought he would take my question the wrong way, and start describing some anatomical features I could do without just now. Thank you very much. “What papers are you thrusting at me?” The word ‘thrust’ suddenly sounded wrong, and I wanted to just crawl under the garden table. But shit. He was on my turf. Let him start crawling. Office clones, these guys were all cut of the same cloth, and they were soooooo yesterday.

 

[Lay Z Butterfly]

“These papers I am thrusting at you are papers you need to sign.” There was no way, no how he was going to stand there sweating to death with her ‘full on bitch act’ now full throttle. He had gone out of his way, on his time to deliver these damn papers and didn’t need her to cop an attitude with him. Maybe he would have smirked and said a satiric retort back, but he’d had enough.

“Listen, Emma, I’ve got better things to do than stand here getting blasted by you. My name is Grant Showling, I work in the Projects Dept. and a little courtesy would go a long way at this moment.” Standing there, my back hot and sweaty under the tailored dress shirt I patiently waited. Maybe she had sunstroke and didn’t know gardening topless was a bit weird. Although, for a guy, any eye candy was a welcome sight.

He offered the papers to her once again and she snatched them away as if his touch would mean being contaminated or something. She scanned the pages and when she was done asked, “Pen?”

The word Fuck, screamed into my brain. Of course, I didn’t have a god damned pen. This could have ended right here and now, but no…fool didn’t have one when he needs it most. “Afraid I don’t have a pen on me Emma. Didn’t think you’d be out back gardening…au natural.” That time I did smirk, but kept it short because I didn’t need another discharge from the ice queen. She didn’t faze me in the least, what woman ever did?

Scowling at me, she stalked past and walked back towards the house. I began to follow and before I could resist asked, “Need me to bring in any of these large cucumbers? I could take the large, thick ones in for you, if you’d like.” God, was he asking for it? He shook his head as she turned back to him and said…

 

[TheOlderGuy]

Emma

“Do you think you can handle them?” I instantly felt a little bad for my snotty retort. I didn’t know for sure that he was an asshole like the rest of them. He may in fact be suffering from the same sort of bruises I was, from guys who had no loftier goal than to climb over everyone they could on the way to the top of the corporate ladder. It certainly wasn’t why I had gotten my degree. But jobs for artists were not that easy to come by. “Listen, Grant,” I stopped suddenly and turned to face him. He was a little slow to notice my change of motion and plowed head down right into me, almost falling over backwards in an effort to correct his error. I reached out and tried to help steady him, foolishly grabbing him by his shirt and ripping it as he tumbled onto the ground. He looked up with a mix of anger and embarrassment and I tried as best I could to finish my thought, “I think we got off on the wrong foot here. Well, you definitely did,” I snickered finally at him. “Would you like some iced tea to cool off, and we’ll try to start this conversation over?”

He picked himself up, not directly answering, but following me inside nonetheless. I set the papers on the kitchen table, and motioned for Grant to take a chair. He scowled, but sat anyway, examining his torn shirt with a sad look. “Sorry about that,” was about the best I could offer.

I opened the cupboard and took two tall glasses down, returning from the fridge with a pitcher of iced tea from my Grandma’s trusted recipe. Filling the glasses I tried to sneak a sideways look at this stranger in my house. Why had I invited him in? Why did I always take pity on the pathetic cases and end up regretting it later? He was kinda cute in his sweaty, angry bummed out sort of way. Shit! That’s what I always do. Not this time, Emma. Not this time.

There was never a pen around when I needed one, but eventually I found one on the floor near the phone. As I bent down to pick it up, I could see him trying to sneak another look at my boobs. Jesus! Is it the breastfeeding that makes them like this? In a way tho, I was flattered. I’d never felt boobage was my strong suit. Didn’t exactly know what my strong suit was, but it was certainly not breast size.

I sat down at the table, looked over the papers. Simple enough -- I guess Hal had said I need to sign these today to release my artwork for the print deadline. I felt bad again that I’d made so much of it. I looked up at him, not three feet away, thinking that maybe he had softened a little. I signed the papers, and pushed them across the table to him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. And sorry, too, about your shirt. I’ll get Hal to reimburse you for it. But, you know, you did sneak up on me at a fairly awkward time?” He seemed silently sullen. “How’s the tea? It’s my favorite, just like Grammy used to make it.”

 

[Lay Z Butterfly]

I sat at the kitchen table, papers finally signed and sipping the best-iced tea he’d ever had. Well, iced tea without any alcohol, he thought ruefully. His ripped shirt sucked though. The fucker cost him a cool 100 beans and there would be no way he could have it tailored as it hadn’t ripped on the seams (he knew this because his mother was a seamstress), but her offer of having it reimbursed had improved the situation.

It improved more when she bent down to grab the pen off the floor too. He’d gotten a good shot of her braless breasts again. Mind you, he’d always had bigger mounds to play with, but hers were nice and firm with soft peaks to them. He knew he’d been caught looking too! As his eyes looked downward, hers glanced upward. Well, too bad- he was a man for cripe’s sake.

As I cooled down from the heat, her, and the fact that my shirt was ripped- she immediately got my anger flared up again. What, the hell, was she talking about? I didn’t sneak up on her at all. Why couldn’t she just be quiet instead of talk? But before I could answer her back she asked about the tea. It was damn good and I told her so. I drained the glass and she gave me a refill. We sat in relative silence as we sipped on the second round of cold drinks. We had nothing in common and small talk was overrated in his eyes.

“Well, Emma thanks for the tea. Thanks for signing the papers. And thanks for having Hal reimburse the shirt. I’ll be on my way now. Let you get back to gardening.” I had a hot number lined up for me this evening. Pretty blonde cutie with huge knockers and an ass so bite able-he’d be hitting that after a couple of drinks, some salsa dancing, and a quick ride to his apartment in no time. He imagined the blonde above him, riding his cock with her hair all about as he swallowed the last of the tea.

I stood up, took the papers off the table, and smiled. Time to make tracks. She showed me to the door, and just to let her know everything was cool after I had gotten into the car, waved to her as she stood in the doorway. Saying “Adios giraffe,” quietly too.

But….

The fucking engine wouldn’t turn over. I turned the ignition- nothing. “What the fuck?” I said aloud. I sat in my car a good half-minute ready to beat the fuck out of the steering wheel. “Don’t fuckin’ do this to me.” I wasn’t speaking to anyone.

“Why the fuck me?” My voice had taken on a whining tone and I didn’t like it. I got out of the car, slamming the door shut and lifted the hood of the engine (not that I knew jack shit about cars). I looked down into the mass of machines and wires and shrugged. I was a self-proclaimed metro sexual. Why know anything about cars when they had grease monkeys to keep his ride moving.

“Hey, uh…. Can I borrow your phone?”

Glancing at my watch, I figured tow truck would get here within the hour and I could still make it for my hot date with Candy. When I looked up at Emma though, something told me differently.

 

[TheOlderGuy]

Emma

Jimmy Mannieri. All I could think of as I watched Grant walk back to his car was Jimmy Mannieri. I was just a virgin girl in high school. He was a mechanic, much older than me, at my uncle’s garage. He had caught me at that vulnerable moment when I wanted to know what sex was all about, and boy, did he take me for a ride. It was the best sex I’d EVER had. But Jimmy was just a jerk underneath it all. Well, maybe that wasn’t entirely fair. He had a sensitive side, but he was all that bright. But, oh my God, the sex was exquisite. In all the years since I had never met anyone who could come close to making me feel like that.

Grant had that same strut as he walked back to his car. It was a relief to have this ugly little episode over. He turned and waved once he’d gotten in his car, and I thought I could see his lips moving in some silent good-by. I had such mixed feelings about Grant. He didn’t seem like such a bad guy. Maybe he was just lacking in social skills. But I hoped he wasn’t going to be one more jerk to avoid at the office. Why was he still here?

He pounded the steering wheel with his fists, and I wandered over to his car to hear the familiar click of a dead battery. Clearly either the battery was drained and I should give him a jump start, or he had a lose wire. Grant opened his hood and stood staring at the engine, a dead giveaway that he was no Jimmy Mannieri. He didn’t have a clue what went on under the hood. I thought of all the times I’d watched Daddy work on his car, or other people’s cars, and how he loved having me around while he worked. Daddy had only done it as a hobby, not like Uncle Jack who made a living at it, but I’d come away with enough common sense knowledge to fix most minor things that went wrong with my cars.

“Hey, uh…. Can I borrow your phone?” Grant’s plea shook me out of my reverie about Daddy. I could see that the battery terminals were covered in white fluffy corrosion, a sign not only of a bad connection, but probably constant neglect.

“You know it’s probably just . . . “ I trailed off, calculating in my mind how many minutes it would take me to check and clean the connection, fill the water level, and get the cables hooked up to give him a jump start. I figured I could have him out of here in less than seven minutes, and finally get back to my gardening. I had so much weeding to do. My poor garden had been neglected all week. Some of the beds were getting hard to find.

”Just WHAT? You know what’s wrong, Emma? You know about cars?” Grant was pleading for answers.

“You know it’s probably just . . . going to be forever before a tow truck can get here. You feel like taking a swim down at the stream while we wait?” What the hell was wrong with me?

 

[Lay Z Butterfly]

Grant... Long awaited...

A swim? Was she for real? I had to get my ass in gear and go home for Christ’s sake. I looked at her as if she were daft in the head and then decided what the fuck! Why not go for a swim. If the car was fucked it wouldn’t hurt to cool off in a fresh water stream.

“Sure, why not Emma. Got nothing else to lose so let’s go for it. I have a question though. Do you have a swimsuit for me and if not, it wouldn’t be very fair to have to go au natural and you don’t.” I know I was smirking. Christ, always the player, but all the women know that you hate the game and not the player. I wondered if she would take up my unsaid challenge.

I looked disgustedly at my car. Piece of shit, but what else was new. I was out in the middle of Buttfuck, America, on a weekend day getting a signature from some stuck up cold fish. My life was a series of slaving at work trying to get to the upper echelon positions of the company and screwing as many hot women as I could. There was no way I was going to apologize for my behaviour either. You take me for what I am and either you like it or lump it. It made no difference to me.

Looking at Emma closely as we made our way back into the house, I surveyed the situation further. She really didn’t look like a giraffe after all. She had a tight bod that was well muscled. Yeah, she was tall, but then again I was not a midget in the height department either. Maybe…. Yeah, just maybe I’d give the ice queen a Grant special. Who knows when the blasted car would be up and running again and what better way to pass the time, but to wine, dine and sixty-nine her! I chuckled at that thought. I really had a chip on my shoulder, but hell in this business you had to be a bit cocky to go far.

“You know what Emma, screw the swim trunks for me; I’d rather go au natural.” I stripped off my ripped dress shirt and let her have a good look at my chest. I saw her look and I was not shy. My body was sculpted. Spending every other day at the gym gave me the physique women drooled over.

“You lead and I’ll follow.” And watched her behind sway back and forth as she walked.

 

[TheOlderGuy]

Emma

Au natural, eh? I had to chuckle to myself. Where was this guy from? It sure wasn’t the south of France. Still he was kinda cute as he tried to impress me with his pects and abs. I shook my head back and forth a couple times, and turned still chuckling, to head back to the house. I was hoping I hadn’t offended him. It wasn’t that I thought myself superior or anything, but he was just so odd. He followed without my having to give a command even. Good doggie.

When we got back inside I checked for messages and tossed him the cordless. “48-TOWME. I swear to God, that’s their number. Jake’s downtown.” Grant made the call and confirmed they’d be at least an hour and a half. He was bummed. It was probably a terrible idea for me to try to cheer him up, VERY bad, but I had sort of already launched myself down that path, so I’d have to make the best of it.

“Come on, let’s go chill for a bit. What’s your poison, anyway? Wine? Beer? Toke?”

Grant looked at me as if I had three heads. Whatever, I thought to myself. I grabbed a couple of Sam Adams Summer Ales and headed out the back. When I got to the door, I turned to find him still looking like he was contemplating the question. “Hey, Grant. You coming, or what?” He nodded, and started stalking through the kitchen towards me. He was trying to get the strut back on, but there was something a little off there. When he reached the door he almost ran into me, his head still down, lost in some deep dark thoughts I suppose. He didn’t quite realize that I was watching him.

“Hey, Grant,” I whispered, “Smile a little, it gets better from here.” I shot him a wicked grin, let go of the screen door which almost smacked him in the face, and took off running down the path to the stream.

 

[Lay Z Butterfly]

Grant

What?! Did she just say toke? Ice Queen smokes weed? Now this was getting very interesting as the day wore on. I followed her after she grabbed a couple of beers and blam the doof almost smacked my face. Get a grip Grant. Stay focused and look lively. I took off running after her, smiling a sly grin. Miss Confident didn't bother to grab a bathing suit. Would she be a prude and wear her clothes while in the water?

I could have easily caught up to her, but preferred to watch her ass move from side to side as she ran down the slope toward, what he thought, would be the watering hole she spoke of. His first thought was one of coolness. Under the canopy of large leafed trees and the shade from the sun, the temperature was much more bearable. It actually looked like a scene out of Huck Finn.

Plopping down on the softened earth, I kicked off my Italian leather loafers and pulled off my trouser socks. I still held the ripped shirt in my hand and used it as a thin pillow when I leaned back. I heard the clinking of the glass from the bottles and opened an eye to watch Emma's next move.

I've got the time, babe. Not going anywhere soon. Why not strip down for me like a good girl would and take the rest of my clothes off too... I laughed at the thought and didn't bother to answer the questioning look I got from Emma. How smart would that have been? Instead, I said, "Beautiful place you have here Emma. Come here often?"

 

[TheOlderGuy]

Emma

"Beautiful place you have here Emma. Come here often?" I giggled to hear that line coming out of his mouth, but I was careful to turn away, cause I was trying hard not to be hurtful. I sensed Grant had been picked on a lot in his life, and I didn’t want to push any buttons while he was behaving.

“Thanks - it’s my refuge from the world gone mad.” I looked down for a moment, reflecting on the many times I had come here crying my heart out, and found solace in the beauty of it.

I looked back up at him, catching his eyes undressing me. He flinched, but stopped short of sticking his tail between his legs. I laughed, and he snorted almost simultaneously, which made me laugh even more. I fished a rusted church key from between the boulders, and removed the caps from two Sams. I handed him one, and instinctually we clinked. “Peace and good loving,” I whispered. He shot me a look. I raised my bottle once more, and took a long draw down. Grant followed suit. Promising, thinks me.

As he began to open his mouth to say something, undoubtedly something stupid, I quickly turned my back, setting Sam down on the cool smooth top of the granite boulder, and withdrew my blouse with one quick stroke. Stooping slightly I slipped my shorts away, and after laying my clothes beside my beer, I dove headfirst into the gently swirling water. I swam to the far edge, not sure if Grant was still standing gape-mouthed on the shore or not. When I surfaced and turned, his head popped up not more than three feet away.

“You don’t waste time, do you,” I asked, flashing him a wicked smile. “Look! Look at this. I pointed to a turtle that rested near the edge of the water. Grant came up from behind me, and as he nestled close to see the turtle as the startled creature took a step back from us, it became clear to me that he had lost his pants, and underwear. He offered an “Oh, he’s really cute.” But when he licked the back of my neck, in that spot that only my most intimate of lovers have ever found, I swooned. No really, I fainted backward into him, and I felt his strong arms break my descent into deep water.