HNTied up

*I'm a little tied up at the moment. Yours truly will be getting back to regular posting as soon as things settle down here.*

The Country Story

***This is the story that Rob told me the other day. The one that he told me to use in case things got stressful or frustrating here. Remember that this was written in chat, I put it into paragraphs, changed the punctuation a bit, but it was actually written a portion of a sentence at a time, so the story reflects that quite a bit. Nothing else was changed apart from a couple spelling errors. ***

The light zephyr of wind blows while the warm sun beats gently down.

Wearing sunglasses shorts and a tee shirt, with the smell of freshly cut lawns, I walk across a deserted village street, over the fence and down a tree-lined avenue of hanging willow trees. A cobbled path uneven under foot, the sound of bird song, green grass brushing on my legs.

The avenue ends, another fence to climb.

I hop over the fence with 2 steps, spring down onto my feet with no care in the world into a field of golden barley swaying gently in the breeze.

I look into the distance, about 400 yards away I see the outline of beauty walking away from me, the silhouette of a dark figure against the golden background: Long flowing hair, shorts and a tied up top.

I think nothing of it and keep walking.

One field passes into another.

This one is filled with thick tall maize about 8 foot high. It smells wonderful the corn has flowered and is ready to ripen.

The pathway gets narrower and the sunlight gets dimmer as the tall corn stretches competing with each other for the sun’s rays.

The surroundings look all the same it’s getting darker and quieter.

A chink of light appears in the distance so I head for that.

Some 10 minutes pass

I appear on the other side, somehow touched by the spiritual sensation gained from being in an alien environment back into the warm sunlight and wondering where the girl I saw had disappeared to.

I look around, there was no sign, so I kept on walking.

Tall trees and wild flowers are my world now. Then down a winding path over a fence and onto the small one-track road that looks like it hadn’t been used for some time. With every footstep a puff of dust comes up making my sneakers dusty.

My throat now dry and beads of sweat starting to show on my brow, I make my way down the small winding road where signs of life start to emerge.

A road sign, a stray dog barks at me and then the road opens up onto a small village green. A bench sits alone on the green where a small brass plaque screwed onto it reads:

in loving memory of Cyril Smith 1935-1994

I wonder who he was and what he did.

I make my way into the village still wondering about Mr. Smith

I pass an old blacksmith’s forge where the old man stokes the fire, heating the shoes for an old shire horse that pulls his wagon up and down the local town.

He collects scrap iron for extra income.

Past the forge there is a butcher’s shop where locals buy their fresh meat.

The fat butcher is sitting out in the sun with his faithful jack russell by his side.

I walk on and spot the village pub. So to quench my thirst I walk towards the pub and push hard on the heavy solid oak door that must have been there for over 200 years.

The smell of fresh hops and old wood greet me as I slide the door shut. A friendly landlord greets me at the bar.

“What shall it be?” he says.

“I’ll have a pint of your coldest larger”, which he greets with a frown because this is one of those real ale pubs where old men drink and compare warm flat ales. They usually have beards and wear sandals. (Of course I think this to myself).

He serves me anyway, and I hand over the money, grab a menu and sit down in the corner on an old wooden leather backed comfy chair.

After a couple of swallows of the cold drink fizzing on my tongue, the landlord comes over to me and asks if I would like to order from the menu.

I answer him: “yes I’ll have the fish”

I look around at the ancient walls, white with black timbers; old guns and shooting paraphernalia adorn the walls, old drinking tankards, and horse brasses: A typical English country pub that hadn’t changed for a hundred years, straight out of a period drama.

I sit back reach into my pocket pull out the paper and raise it to my eyes, shades on top of my head. I read about a woman who put a cat into a dustbin. She had been caught on cctv by a man across the street. After national outcry and death threats, the woman was on 24hr police guard.

I thought it was ironic

Under my paper I saw a small pair of what I thought would be size 6 feet wrapped in gladiator sandals. The feet came towards me and heard the words “you ordered the fish?”

I said yes, looked up and it was the smiling face of the beautiful girl I saw in the field.

Well I think it was, She had shorts and a tied up shirt. She smiled and laid down my food.

I pulled up may chair as she walked away. I glanced across as she left and I was convinced it was her. She looks over her shoulder and catches me checking out her ass. She winks and disappears into the kitchen.

I ate my food, which was ok I guess. My review in the local paper would reflect the quality and price of the food but it would never mention the girl who I saw in the fields. She was mine and I have held her close to my heart ever since.

THE END

Minors, bras, and other random updates

There are a few little things I wanted to catch up on before next week, but they're all relatively short, so I'll group them all together here.

Bf's brother is much better, they're thinking of sending him home tomorrow (Sunday). He has to go back of course to check on his bone marrow to see if the stem cells are working. But the fact that they're sending him home is excellent news. Fact was he was in such bad shape earlier this week that they thought he was on his way... So that's all good now.

Related to that is that bf's niece is back home too, she's no longer staying with us so I have more freedom, I can actually watch tv late or stay up without keeping bf awake in the bedroom.

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Almost completely unrelated is that I have written up Rob's story and will be posting it Monday. I did that last night and I now have a very good memory of it. While today I went to a nearby town to go shopping we passed through the countryside and it kept reminding me of his story. It was nice, but I had to concentrate so that I wouldn't get all weepy. I didn't have a nice wake-up call this morning and it put me in a bit of a mood, that's probably why I was easily brought to an "emotional state". heheh

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On my shopping adventure I bought two new bras, they're practically identical, one purple one black, but they're awesome and I love them.

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Today I got a new friend request on FB from an ex student of mine. He's a friend of the 18 yr old student that I mentioned in another post about a dream, they used to come to lesson together, so yeah, they're the same age. 

Anyhoo, he started chatting me up on fb today in English. He just got back from 3 weeks in Australia for an English course there. He also said that he'd be going back at the end of this school year to go to Uni there. Then the weird thing happened. He asked me if I was going to the beach today and he was really insistent... I'm not sure what he was up to. I told him that I wasn't going, but then when I said that I'd like to go back to Australia he said that we should go together next year!!!! 

He ended the conversation with "there's lots of time to organize for Australia!!" I mean woah buddy!!!

So then I went to take a shower and while in there, I think lots, and I got this pang of want to go to the beach with him, wondering how he'd behave and what he wanted.... strange...I'm baffled. I mean I haven't seen this kid in a year. And now he comes up with this? Hunh.

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On a last note, I'm horny as fuck today. I've had a week of tummy pain and stress, probably due to the family stuff, but I wasn't quite over some weird flu too. Today is the first day that I'm feeling good enough to be horny. Yay for horniness. 

HNT I want you

The pick visible is recent, the other is old, I'm not even sure, I may have posted it before...

Rob's recent effects on me.

Written yesterday after a conversation with Rob.

I've always known, but today I realised how important Rob is to me and how much I'd suffer if I ever lost touch with him.

He has been more present recently. He knows how much I've been going through lately and how much the situation weighs on me. Today I made the excuse of the translation again to hide in the bedroom. We chatted again, this time with video, although there were times I wished mine wasn't on. He just let me vent, asked me what was on my mind, told me to get things off my chest.

He's the only "real" person I can really talk to these days. Sad isn't it. We surround ourselves with friends but how many of them are willing to listen?

Anyhow I thanked him, told him how much it meant to me, and I cried. I don't know if he noticed. It's hard to see that kind of thing on cam. He went off to make toast at one point and I burst into tears at the thought that he was the only one who would really listen to what I had to say without judging or having an ulterior motive. By the time he got back I had managed pretend nothing was happening. Although he may have caught on. I kept sniffling.

Towards the end of the conversation the tides turned and he cheered me up. He even managed to turn me on with a list of single words, with a mini interruption of a telephone call on my end to make me squirm.

The nicest part was that he told me to keep the story he had written in our previous conversation in my mind, to think of it when things were tough, to read it again, rewrite it, post it, do anything I want with it as long as I keep it in mind for when I'm having hard times. It is possibly the sweetest thing he has said to me. And it is the sweetest thing anyone has said to me in a while.

Look into my eyes not my tits.

Ok so while at lunch I had an interesting conversation with my guy friends. It was the typical male conversation about how women dress. Except this time I was actually agreeing with them. I wouldn't normally but something in me has changed a bit.

So the gist is this: they say that when a woman with nice breasts wears low cut shirts, it's pretty much impossible not to look. And women get angry that men keep staring at their tits instead of staring at their faces when they speak.

I had a recent experience of one of the students who came to our school. She was an over 50yr old Danish woman with a nice figure and wore push up bras and super low cut shirts. And I mean those square neckline shirts where your tits are just falling out type shirts. You know, the barmaid look. The whole week while doing lessons with these students, I couldn't look the woman in the face. I tried to look her in the eyes while speaking with her, but it was literally impossible! My eyes kept falling to her chest!

What's wrong with me?? I'm a woman, I should't be staring at tits! Is the fact that mine are small an excuse?

In any case I could totally understand what my guy friends were saying. And all I wanted to was defend women by saying that they had to just TRY but I realised that it truly is impossible, or perhaps not impossible but very difficult.

They also said that they thought women dressed to attract attention sometimes. I have done it... it's true... but women sustain that it's not true and that men shouldn't stare.

I honestly don't know who's right and who's wrong.

My day, Rob and other ramblings

I had an interesting day today. I went to work thinking I'd only be doing the morning. I dressed accordingly. I was wrong though, I ended up working afternoon too. On Monday mornings I just go to a relatively clean studio and I play the part of the professional interpreter for the morning. In the afternoon, I sometimes go to a dusty messy studio and play the part of the jeans n' T artist. So this morning thinking I'd be just playing interpreter I went dressed up. I wore a black figure fitting cotton dress that is above the knee length and tends to be off the shoulder. I wore kitty heel black patent sandals, grey leggings and a wide elastic belt worn high, over my ribs.

Check the middle picture, something like that anyhow...

NOT ME! lol

So yeah I was decked out hair up with a shiny black headband. I don't normally go to work like that unless I'm teaching, (I don't get too dirty while I'm teaching). 

When I go to lunch I eat with a group of about 10 people, not everyone is there every day. But this group includes my cute colleague and other men, among which a gay man and some other men in their late 40s early 50s. One guy, a good friend of mine, who would never think of really truly flirting with me got all hot and bothered around me today. He actually bit me on my neck. He asked me what kinds of words I say during "those moments", whether I spoke in Italian or in English. He told me that having my bra strap visible was a turn on... it was over the top for him... with me that is. Good thing I'm not terribly attracted to him. 

Then my cute colleague told my boss that she shouldn't let her personnel "dress like that".  He also told me that he'd like to bite me, and I almost answered... "go on bite me", I had to bite my own tongue to keep myself from saying something. Oh man. Hormone overload today.

Under the shower today I had a moment of almost melting at some of those thoughts but I gathered myself without ado and finished my shower.

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On a separate note I talked to Rob the other afternoon. I told everyone that I was doing my translation and I hid in the bedroom for a few hours. He came online and without video, or rather with just my vid on occasionally we chatted. I got some stuff off my chest about family and anxieties and stuff, it was good. He made me feel so good, and there was nothing sexual in the chat, it was nice. Really, really nice. 

I asked him to tell me a story. He told me this wonderful story. It was really cool. I can't describe it really, but I'll try to write it up and post it here at some point soon. All I can say is that I was mesmerised. I just sat staring at the screen waiting for the next sentence. It was so descriptive that I could smell the smells, I could imagine everything he was saying, and feel the sensations of the sun or wind on my skin. It was just a description of an afternoon. When I talk to him I spend the whole next day thinking about him. 

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Things with the family are getting more intense. Bf's brother was doing very well up till now. The chemo caused a kind of inflammation of the mouth, oesophagus, and intestine. They say it's normal, or within the norm. He can't talk, eat or drink though and they gave him a morphine patch. The wife showed up here yesterday in tears. The only one who went to comfort her, (and bf's mother and sister were both there), was me. I gave her a hug and led her to the couch where she sat with me and cried. Then the sister came over and started crying too. 

This brother who's in hospital has two kids, the son is the (ex?)drug dealer kid. The daughter is a sweet 14 yr old who is staying with us at the moment. So I've got bf's mother and niece in the little bedroom on bunk beds and his sister is on the couch. This means less privacy than before. No watching tv late, no late internet, NO FREE TIME AT ALL unless I manage to lock myself in the bedroom to do my translation. At which point I generally want to work on the translation and I don't do much else. 

The 14yr old has latched on to me. I love her, she's a wonderful kid. But she feels abandoned by her parents, especially her mother who is working tons and spending her free time at the hospital (of course).  I think the girl is seriously afraid for her father, but she shows no emotion whatsoever. I'm worried about her. I try to spend time with her when I can. 

Too many ramblings. Next post will be shorter, promise!