The Alcove

It was 11:27 am and my phone buzzed with a text.

It was him.

The Captain.

“Are you ready?”

I paused for a moment, feeling a tinge of nervousness.

Am I ready?  I pondered.

After all, this gentleman makes me nervous.  I can’t explain it.  He just does.

But I was ready….Very ready.

I grabbed my bag and walked outside.

Instantly I was reminded of what a handsome man he really is.  Wearing khaki linen pants, a breezy button-down and leather flip flops, he looked great.  He was even sporting a matching watch. (You know me and a watch).  Sigh

He opened the door to his truck and I climbed in.

We chatted on the way to the lake.  I find that what I like most about the Captain is that he listens.  Really listens.

He doesn’t listen to respond.

He listens to understand.  

There is such a difference.

We arrived at the lake and he explained next steps to me.  (Which I really like…)

“I am going to back the boat into the water and I need you to grab the rope and pull it to the dock.  It’s not as heavy as you think.  You can do it.”

I did do it.  Me, a boating novice.  I was sure I would find a way to mess it up, but I didn’t.

We rode around the lake for a bit.  It was an absolutely perfect day.

I enjoyed the feeling of peace I had from being on the water, from being with him, as I was no longer nervous.

I felt relaxed.

He occasionally mentioned the depth of the water we were in.

“We are at 126 feet.”

Yikes. I have to be able to touch the bottom.  Stay above the surface or on the surface.  It’s how I exist.  That was a bit too deep for me.

But I was in the deep.  Safely in the deep.

He drove to a secluded alcove, where the Captain anchored us.

It was lovely.  We were under the boat’s shade where we shared some wine and snacks.  The Captain had thought of everything.

He was rummaging around in the cooler when he pulled out an iced-down hand towel and placed it around my neck and shoulders.

“You look hot.  This will cool you off.”

How thoughtful.  I found it sexy that he did it without asking.  He could see the need and he addressed it.

The Captain knows best.

In the alcove we shared stories about our families and funny anecdotes from our childhood.

Then there was a look in his eyes and the conversation paused.

I recognized the look from those intense eyes of his.

We began kissing.

And I need to make an announcement to my readers.

I LOVE HOW THIS MAN KISSES ME….

And like before, we needed no words to communicate.

There is a marked shift in our dynamic, when there is no longer a need to verbalize anything.

I knew what I needed to do for my Captain.

He pulled off his shirt.

As I was on my knees looking up at him, I thought about how much I enjoyed how his khakis slightly hung off of his hips.

And then, I slid them completely off of his hips…

i eagerly began to work on the task in front of me.  I really shouldn’t call it a task, as that implies that it is a chore, or work.

This was not work.  I love how he tasted.  How smooth he felt on my lips.  How he placed his hand, gently on the back of my head.

I loved looking up at him and seeing the look of pleasure on his face.

No words needed.

We continued on in the alcove for a while.

Cliche Alert:  Time flies when you are having fun.

We toured about the lake some more before heading back to the dock.  The Captain pointed out different landmarks.

I like how attuned to nature he is.

As we headed back, I would occasionally steal a glance of him driving the boat.  Sunglasses on.  Hat turned backwards.  Clothes rippling in the wind.

Confident.  In charge.

Damn…so sexy.

I think he caught me checking him out a few times.  And I think I caught him doing the same.

The drive home was a bit quiet at times.  But with him, it’s a comfortable silence.

However, I did ask about the position as First Mate.  The Captain says I passed through the first interview with flying colors.  There are other interviews, but I feel confident I will channel my inner siren and pass those as well.

We arrived at the house and being the gentleman he is, he paid for my sitter, helped me out of the truck and kissed me goodbye.

Sigh…

And as I walked into the house, I could hear the thunder.

More storms are on the way.

 Crashing all about…

“Sweet like candy to my soul
Sweet you rock
and sweet you roll”

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The Forecast…

ga weather

Bear with me, readers.  I am continuing on with my weather/seasonal theme….

The weather.

It is unpredictable.  One day it is.

Beautiful.

The next it could be…

Harsh.  Unforgiving.

Then it changes to,

Pleasant.

And out of nowhere it could turn

Cold.

And before you know it, it’s sunny again.

The weather is funny like that.  But wonderful in it’s own creation.

And then there are the storms that blow through.

Ahh…the storms.

Some storms build for hours or even days.  Others are completely unpredictable, they literally come out of nowhere.

Personally, I enjoy the storms.  They possess an energy that cannot be managed or directed.

Their path can often be forecasted.  We can tell where the storm is going, but we have no way to determine its outcome.

We can attempt to predict the intensity, but there’s no way of knowing until it happens.

Until we are centered in the chaos of the unknown.

Such mysterious things. Storms.

Beautiful and destructive.

Powerful and chaotic.

Quietly gaining momentum.

Waiting.

I smell rain in the air. 

On that note, here’s what’s playing in my head today.

Someone told me long ago
There’s a calm before the storm,
I know; it’s been comin’ for some time.
When it’s over, so they say, it’ll rain a sunny day,
I know; shinin’ down like water

 

Time of the Season…

Living in the South, we have two seasons…

Hot and humid.  And less hot and humid.  We rarely experience a true change in season.  In fact, a mere prediction of snow sends us in a tailspin, leaving no bread, milk or toilet paper to be found in a two-state radius.

I have always longed to experience this mythical event….a change in seasons.  I am so accustomed to the same, predictable patterns of weather that I find myself oblivious to dates that signify seasonal change.  I find it’s always the same.  Summer begins in April and ends in November.  Then we have a brief winter and spring is rushed and hurried giving way to the relentless summer.

Maybe this year…I will experience something “different.”

Have you ever noticed that people talk about the weather when there is something else on their mind?  Something they may not want to share?  Some believe that this talk is “small talk” acting as a filler, or bridge to another topic.  Talking about the weather is easy.  Weather is a safe subject.

Personally, I think there’s more meaning in the discussion of local meteorology.

As I keep things on this trend, the forecast for the upcoming weekend is:

Sunny.

Hot.

Very Hot.

Chance of significant storms this weekend.

Pressure system moving through.

Gaining energy.

Boating weather…

And Someone I know is traveling in a different region this week, thus enjoying the shift from summer to autumn.  Chilly mornings and evenings.  Mild days.  The perfect type of weather to just roll the windows down.