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I try my best to ignore the approving glee of boys and men tracking my progress with enlarged eyes. To me they are nothing. Trash. He's the only man on earth, my life.Yet the women are a totally other ordeal. The scorn, the shaking heads, the whispering.Finally I am here, my target, the reason for this walk of nudist shame. The traffic cone. A beacon of orange colored phallus so conveniently heightened to just below my hips.Suddenly I can't help it, I have a look around. Dozens and dozens of people just staring. Do they know why I am here? Do they have ANY idea what it is I am about to do?I look back towards the car, at the tinted dark windows. He is in there, watching, waiting, smiling. I lift my hand to my lips and blow him a kiss. I would walk off a cliff for him, my Master.I lift my leg and swing it on the other side, straddling the narrow tip and nestling it softly against my self lubricated sex.Shrieks and gasps erupt from the disapproving women and girls as I lower my hips. "She stopped and turned to face me with a look of concern, "You know youcan tell me anything right? I know I've been busy these last few months,but I promise I'll make time for you if you need me."She was being so sincere that I had to resist my instinct to deflect fromthe awkwardness by making a bad joke like telling her that I was pregnantor something. Instead, I basked in the glow of maternal love for a momentand gave her a big bear hug. "Thanks Mom. I really appreciate it."I heard her yelp a little in surprise before she returned my hug, beforetapping me on my back. "Okay, I'm finding it hard to breathe now..."I laughed as I released her from my grip and we continued inside. Weparted ways at the stairs as I headed back up to my room while she went tothe kitchen to help my Dad with dinner. I absentmindedly did some choresas I cleaned out my bag and tossed my uniform into my hamper beforepicking out a clean one from the closet for tomorrow.I looked at my phone again and saw.
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We continued through the prayers of thanksgiving, the Creed, and the Prayer of the Hours for sleep. When we said the last ‘Amen’, I snuffed the candle and closed the censer.“I have no claims on you, Mike,” Angie said before I could say anything.“And at some future point?” I asked.Angie smiled, “If that day arrives, what happened before doesn’t matter. I hope you’d agree that works both ways.”My brain instantly screamed for more information as to what she meant, but it was very clear that the topic was off limits, and if the day ever came when we were together, what had happened in the past would stay in the past, for both of us. Which, of course, made me MORE curious. It also indicated that Angie’s issues might be deeper than just having seen her parents have sex when she was little.“Yes, but...”“But what? You’re in college. If you’re going to mess around, this is your chance. Once you start medical school, you won’t have the time! And I daresay you won’t find a wife who’ll put up.

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