A 15 year old semi built young man, a cut off tee (now a tank top…) walks from out of rustic ranch home, fields surrounding unattended, a considerable bottle booze resting lazily in his left hand the other draping from his pocket, thumb in, fingers exposed. Takes a careless dramatic gulp from the bottle, it going into the air above his very attractive face, messed light and sweet coffee hair, flung another way, as the bottle dropped, his half open eyes caught my stare, or what he didn’t realize, captivation. He smiled through the top of the bottle, his lower lip fitting loosely in an imitation of the cork that rest there not long ago. His expressions, it scared me, I wasn’t sure if it was an invitation to a stay at prison, or a fantasy of desire and inspiration. I was obviously limited in willpower!

He crouched a moment and looked up at me with my crossed arms and efforted ‘I hardly care’ pout, I turned ever so slightly and my eyes reached another conclusion, resembling almost a double-or triple take. The boy chuckled in that horribly inviting way, and I broke into a meek laughter myself, I couldn’t help the fact that I was just as much a part of that bottle as he was, ha ha…a twenty two year old should definitely be more mature about this type of thing…but I could be in my forties or fifties, and he could be a young girl, named Lolita. He looked down for a few seconds not really at anything and turned up again at me, obviously aware of my undeniable insecurity around males, (where he was wrong it’s just ones that are as breathtakingly sexy as this one!) “Hey, what are you doing down here anyways, you’re from Massachusetts right? Alabama’s a ways away from there, I reckon.” He said, very odd he’s never used the term reckon before, I expected it though. The boy looked on with annoyed anticipation of my response, which I totally forgot about, I couldn’t stop thinking of that word, what kind of word is that, ha ha! Now I can’t respond, I don’t think it would be too conventional to reveal what I had done and that I actually escaped from a unique situation. I had to tell him something though.

“Well I was coming here for the…er…bake sale…” I can’t believe what a retarded answer that was, but neither of us realized how retarded it was and continued, he shook his head waiting for something exiting to happen, willing to settle for a story for the time being, “oh…” He eagerly sat now on his bottom, legs separated and luscious, lean legs holding me within them (metaphorically of course) suddenly consuming my whole interest. He leaned back on his elbows now lying there, his abdomen partially showing, he put his head back, showing his smooth slender neck, round muscular shoulders, his toned chest shown through the thing black tank. “So…yea, it’s getting’ late you wanna go to bed yet?” The boy leaned up wards again pressing his shoulders back in the must provocative way a boy could manage; he tilted his head to his right shoulder discarding the 4/5ths empty bottle aside rather briskly and looked me up and down to my total shock, licked his lips and nodded up wards,

“what about you?” “What-what do you mean?” “You know what I mean” he said a smile printed boyishly on one side of his face. I froze and turned red as the burgundy I had that other night, and the boy tilted his head back up, zoomed up limberly in a show off kind of way, he nodded at the door that led in from the porch and grabbed my hand and helped me up from my more uncomfortable crouch, he pulled me into him through the creaking doorway opening and closing swiftly then as means to close it, rather debonairly he put his arm around the nape of my neck, swathed with my wild hazelnut locks. The zealous lad respired yearningly, taking in my whole feel and scent, and uncharacteristically gentle, he raised his other hand to push the few limp curls surrounding my face and tucked them neatly behind my ears. He was so taken by something about me he couldn’t show joy so much as I felt was a carnal curiosity, I picture a shark calm cool and collected, when suddenly it tastes blood through the salty sea, it’s pupils dilate ferociously, its teeth bare and then it’s past just a feeling or logic, nature, and what the psyches like to call impulse. He peered deep into me, pressing his body so close to me if not for the outrageous arousal it brought me, I’d certainly wonder if this was impacting my lungs, so sleek and very much like a shark actually…I could feel every dimension of his body, and I worshiped each second of it (and part of it!). The now reckless teen, finally made the decision to press his lips against mine, a cloak suddenly sealed the fate of the night as the shark sunk its teeth, loitering about it my mouth most appetizingly. We were inebriated over each other, as he let off of the never ending kiss, where then I interceded to push him around back into the corner, beaming magnificently, his soft cheeks, curving youthfully, yet I knew it was a malicious libido-enthused insinuation, that he was very clearly ready to…go to bed. Before we knew it the sun had risen and a sexual archetype lie exhausted in my lap, I felt simply happy, but I sort of knew I had to get out of there before his dad came by and realize what a shitty babysitter I was, I can already picture the man walking in asking, “So what’d you guys do?” I would smile a reply, “It was so fun! I got your son drunk and had sweet animal sex, it was great! How was your fishing trip?” I have a twisted type of humor…