Extracurricular

Lots of notes here before we begin.

This is the final chapter of "Extracurricular." I certainly appreciate the support from the readers during my first venture of writing. Thank you so much.

I was inspired to start a blog. It's simple, so don't expect anything fancy. It's a place where I can post some backstory and reasons behind writing the way I did. I do hope several readers will share their comments as well as personal experiences as to how they relate to the characters. Many of you have shared this with me. I think others might be interested in your thoughts as well. But, of course, private email can still go to timothylane414@gmail.com

The blog is: timothylane414stories.blogspot.com I hope you check it out — particularly after you finish this chapter.

And as always, consider supporting Nifty. It is this service that brings us together.

13

We went for a morning run. It woke us both up. The air had a slight chill, but spring was so close, the hints of the season were there.

As we came back inside, I looked at the living room. I gathered our clothes from the living room floor left from the night before.

Our time in the shower consisted mostly of kissing. Deeply. I pondered if I should actually say the words "I love you" to him, but it still seemed too soon. I didn't need to freak him out. We groped each other. We were both extremely hard, but it didn't go any further. We had yet to have morning sex, but affectionate flirtation was still gratifying.

"Is it okay if I read some?" he said, grabbing a textbook and curling up on the couch.

"How about I go grab us some breakfast burritos? I'll leave you alone a bit."

He committed 90 minutes to reading. Just before lunch, he fired up his laptop and typed in some notes.

Wanting away from his books, he asked if we could eat cheap Chinese food for lunch. I thought it sounded like a great idea. We talked about the game that night. They had a substantial drive. I asked Trent to talk about other players on the team. He told me about several, especially those he felt closer to. He described a few penises but mostly their character and personality.

"With you and Lance being gay, think anyone else is?" I asked.

"I don't get that vibe at all. There are no casual glances as far as I can tell. Except for Lance."

"Think they would accept you?"

"I'm scared as hell to find out, Mike. What if they made an issue of showering with me or made fun of me in the locker rooms? I'd be devastated. That terrifies me."

"Understandable."

Knowing he had to leave, he committed a short bit of the afternoon just for me. The weather was so nice, we felt like a walk would be appropriate. We loved being in the elements. As we walked, we noticed a certain variety of trees was looking like it was starting to make the slightest signs of budding out. The warmer-than-usual winter was fooling Mother Nature. On a private street, I put my arm around him. For just a moment he slid his hand in my back pocket, and we walked as one.

At 3, I kissed him goodbye. I wished him good luck. We held each other tightly.

"I hate to leave," he said, burying his face into my neck.

—

I heard the door open at 11:45. I was naked in bed but was reading with the light on.

"I got your text," I said. "Congratulations. Another win."

"Yeah. We played well tonight."

It took less than a minute for him to completely undress. He went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. I heard the toilet flush. He slid under the sheet and cuddled up next to me.

"I'm exhausted. I came close to dozing off on the bus. But didn't. I'm going to crash hard." I leaned over to give him a solid kiss. "Good night, babe."

"Night, hon'," he returned.

He reached out to hold me. It wasn't too minutes before I could hear he had fallen asleep. I reached for his hand and pressed it to my chest.

—

I was awakened by a bird chirping outside the bedroom window. It didn't seem to let up. Trent slept through it, but it was annoying the hell out of me. The birds were somehow resisting my telepathic will to self-explode.

Not being able to go back to sleep, I pondered our day. Trent had tests to study for, so we wouldn't have much time. He had so much work still ahead of him too. What a horrible time to find a new boyfriend. My mind kept circling back to all the questions about whether we were right for each other. In the beginning, had Trent broken it off, I would have enjoyed being back into the gay world having been pulled from my doldrums. I would have understood. Now, three weeks in, the thought of him finding someone else — someone so much more appropriately his age — would break my heart. My fears and doubts haunted me.

I hated the crap that came with dating. It was hell.

Except when it wasn't. When you enjoyed spending every moment with someone and lit up each time you saw them, you knew you had something special. Ethan and I had some of that. We had great times for a while. But Trent had pulled something out of me. I don't know how. As wrong as we were for each other, I was selfish. I wanted him. To be honest, I needed him. But did he really need me? Or was I a simple steppingstone?

Crap.

I went to the bathroom, took a moment to take a leak and run a brush through my hair. I returned to the bed and rolled over to hold Trent. He let out an "mmm" and pressed his body into mine. After a couple of minutes, he was fully awake and went to the bathroom as well. When he returned, he slid his body back into the identical position it was in. My arm around him completed the embrace. I moved my head to press against his. I breathed in his scent. My lips gently kissed the back of his neck.

"Good morning," he sort of said in a barely understandable soft mumble.

"Good morning," I returned.

My arm around him held him tighter. I'm not sure if he could feel it, but my penis was a hammer pressed against his ass. I released my hug around him and let my hand tease the light hair on his chest. I toyed with it, twisting and petting the light brown softness on his pecs. I followed the hair down to his navel. Then I ran my fingers through his pubic hair, enjoying the thick and bushy texture of it. My fingers found his dick and wrapped around them. His cock was a hard seven-plus inches.

"Good morning," I whispered again, trying to make it sound sexy this time.

My grip slowly moved up and down his shaft, stroking it in long, drawn-out movements. I could feel it reach its maximum density — hard as steel. I kept my slow rhythm going. He said nothing, but just pressed further into my body. My own cock had worked its way into his ass crack, resting like a brat in a bun. I thrust my waist to create a little friction between my titanium erection and his beautiful ass. Both of us remained silent. We just remained aware of each other's flesh. He reached behind to put his hand on my leg. He gently touched my skin from the back of my knee to the curve of my cheek. It was graceful.

Having made love in the living room the night before, I wasn't expecting anything from the morning. It was playful. But I had initiated it and didn't stop.

I started pumping on his erection with bigger strokes. He didn't say anything, but I could hear Trent's breathing increase. I gripped his dick tighter as I continued to jerk it with more force. He maneuvered his body to where he was flat on his back. My dick was no longer pressed into him, but I had better access to jacking his blood-filled organ. He lightly moaned. My movements increased, and I rubbed and yanked every inch of his manhood. His crotch seemed so warm in the morning. It felt good, but I wanted more.

"Come up here," I requested.

Trent lifted his body and spread his legs right at my shoulders. His crotch straddled my face, and he moved his cock into my mouth. I hummed as it entered my waiting throat. I tasted it, I swallowed it, I engulfed it. This beautiful piece of anatomy was all mine. I took a deep breath. The smell of a man was intoxicating to my nostrils. The fact that it was Trent made it more of an addiction. I knew I needed him. I inhaled further. I breathed in every iota of him.

Trent began thrusting his waist, fucking my face. He sucked in air and then began to moan with his exhale as my mouth pleasured his pole. He leaned back onto his stiff arms, but still continued to thrust his pelvis into my face. His moans turned to groans and then to grunts. But no words. Just syllables of pleasure. Not loud, it was pleasingly audible for the morning hours.

My right arm reached down and grabbed my cock. I started masturbating at full force as I slurped on Trent's flesh. The grip on my rod pulled from the base. With each stroke, my hand worked its way up my erection in mere millimeters. Within a couple minutes, every inch of my mast had been stimulated. I started at the hairy base again and kept pounding my hardened meat.

Trent continued to slide his throbbing cylinder in and out of my warm mouth. It was like a sled, gliding on slick ice. My tongue roamed all around his enlarged organ. Our lovemaking this morning was less animalistic and more loving. Sharing. Connecting. We gave our bodies to each other in this simplest of sexual expressions. My emotions were swarmed with who Trent was. Who he was as a man. Who he was as a lover. Who he was as a soul. Even more so, I knew I needed him.

We didn't change. For several minutes he gyrated above me, while I enacted sword swallowing. My left hand cupped his right ass cheek and massaged it, moving in sync with his thrusting in and out of my face. My fingertips moved into his ass with my pointer finger just touching the pucker of his hole. That simple stimulation caused a slight, arousing squirm of his hips and he lowered slightly as if to puncture the opening with my probing digit. Only my fingertip entered, but it caused a soft wail of pleasure, of wanting.

Trent leaned upright again, now grabbing the top of the headboard and thrusting his hips faster. I continued to feast on his sizable tool. His sexual groans increased. They came deep within his throat, as if traveling up from his groin. I wondered if he was about to climax.

I wanted us to reach orgasm together, so I vigorously attacked my hard-on. As I jerked my cock at full throttle, my hips started to buck. My body was writhing. Sexual gratification was building in me. The taste of Trent in my mouth was my fuel. My nostrils were filled with his masculinity. He satisfied me in every sense of the word. Beyond lust, my heart was enflamed. I absolutely needed everything about this man.

A volt of electronic pleasure stimulated my cock. I started to moan into his crotch, my lips sealed around his slick, throbbing beast. I knew I was moments from coming. I moaned louder as my cock ached to burst. He clutched the headboard and rammed my throat with no remorse.

"I'm about to come, Mike," he said with a soft whisper instead of a calling scream.

He leaned back holding the headboard and let me service his rod.

I arched my back. My balls tightened and shot the first rocket from my dick. The stream of ecstasy struck the center of Trent's back. The second blast landed on my chest. Each one continued to land on my hairy torso, resting on the furry mat, eventually slipping down to my skin. Before I finished coming, Trent's cock exploded. The hot liquid was powerful, lubricating my throat. It made me jerk harder to keep pumping more and more cum from my own phallic member. Trent thrust into my face harder. His fourth eruption was as strong as his first. After a few more spurts, he stopped moving. I cupped his ass so he wouldn't remove his cock. I just wanted to taste its succulence a few moments longer. I needed him to remain within me. I needed him ... period.

We remained still and silent a moment. He breathed heavily. My tongue gently stroked the underside of his penis while it stayed within the warmth of my mouth. I could feel the breathing through my nostrils force oxygen in and out.

Trent moved off me and laid at my side. We held hands. We didn't say anything. We listened to our heavy breathing return to normal. I felt his fingers interlock with mine even more forcefully as if he wanted to stay locked forever. The stickiness of my cum sagged between the hair on my chest and slowly dripped more onto my skin.

Well, what do you know? Morning sex.

"How long can we keep this up?" he asked.

"I have no idea, but ... we're amazing together."

He rolled over to kiss me.

"We are indeed. Stay put. I'll get a towel," he said getting up from the bed.

Learning that "the drawer" always had a towel, he took it out and unrolled it on my splattered chest. He turned and I wiped the remaining cum from his back. Most of what was left was now on the sheets.

Snuggling back next to me, he placed his head on my chest and sighed. He moved his ear to where he could listen to my heart. It was still beating relatively fast from our sexual experience.

"I can hear your heart. I love that." His fingers gently touched my deflating cock. "Three weeks ago I wasn't having sex at all. I can't believe I went through my college years without."

"And somehow you managed to live," I said sarcastically. "As bad as your sophomore experience was, I am surprised it didn't awaken more yearning within you."

"Strange, isn't it? I was so turned off. I think because I felt treated so poorly, I thought all gay guys were jerks, like it went with the territory. I just repressed it. I dove into my studies. From time to time I would hear a joke or some insulting crack about gay guys. I tried to ignore the real me. I blocked it out my junior year, but ... whoo ... my senior year, I just couldn't ignore it anymore. I knew. So many guys seemed hot to me."

"And you didn't want to talk it out with gay friends?"

"None of my close friends were gay. Not even casual classmates. Not that I can think of. That alone probably scared me. Matt and Ali were in the theater department this year. I met a couple there. I certainly didn't know them well enough to interrogate them."

"Interrogate," I chuckled. "I'm glad you felt safe questioning me."

He rolled to lay on top of me. We gave each other a peck on the lips.

"I'll start us some coffee," he said, heading toward the kitchen as I wiped the last of our passion from my upper body.

"Damn!" I suddenly heard. "Damn, damn, damn."

I popped up and quickly ran into the living room. He was squatting over his backpack. "What is it?" I asked.

"I didn't charge my laptop. Fuck! I can get nothing done this morning. I don't have the cord! I forgot to pack it before the game. FUCK!!"

Clearly, this was a big thing. I wasn't sure how to comfort him. I just felt bad for him. I went to hold him once he stood up from digging through his bag.

"I'm sorry, babe. Why don't we stop by your place to plug it in. Let's give it a few hours. We'll have an early lunch, and you can head to your apartment and get what you need done."

"I guess," he said, turning toward the bedroom again.

I heard him open the shower door and turn on the water. He had forgotten coffee, so I started it. I could hear him taking a shower solo, which was fine. We had just been incredibly intimate, and he was frustrated.

A few minutes later, he returned. Freshly clean, he had put on a new pair of my boxers and jeans. He sat shirtless in the kitchen.

"Coffee's ready." I poured him a cup. "I'll shower next; I'm a tad sticky."

I emerged several minutes later in a robe. I poured myself a second cup. Trent was staring out the window, still frustrated with himself.

"Why am I so overwhelmed, Mike?" he said, not looking at me.

"Talk to me."

"Some people seem to have all the time in the world. I could never hold a part-time job during school. I'm barely treading water. What am I doing wrong?"

"Nothing," I said, trying to comfort him. "You have some major responsibilities for these final classes. Plus, you are a vital part of a basketball team that has frequent practices and games on Saturdays. You just have a lot on your plate."

Like spending time with me, I didn't say.

"I just wish I could get through these next two months."

"Hey, while your laptop charges, I'll pick up a couple sandwiches from the deli. I'll throw some fruit, chips and a couple beers in the cooler, and we can just go relax at the lake for a couple hours. We'll have an early lunch. That will give you almost all day to work. Is there anything you can get done without the laptop?"

"Some. I could study for a test. If I had to, I could work while it charged, but I don't want to slow it down. That sounds nice," he said, but with little zeal.

Getting to his apartment was less than 15 minutes. He found his cord and plugged in his laptop. An hour later, we had gotten ready for our simple outing. He had thumbed through handwritten notes he had in a spiral for about 30 minutes. I packed a cooler after picking up sandwiches. I could tell by his expression he was feeling more overwhelmed. The way he was running his fingers through his hair was a clear sign of frustration and anxiety.

I offered to help if I could. He talked about a writing assignment. I had him explain it to me. I liked his topic. Even though the actual "paper" was on his laptop, he pointed out some handwritten notes. It was enjoyable to see his creative process. Seeing his handwriting reminded me of when he was my student. That gave me a sudden flash of anxiety. Student. Teacher. Scandal.

But we weren't. We were two adults. Two adults that needed each other.

"You are still a gifted writer," I commented.

"How do you know? You can only see my notes."

"It's the details that make things come alive. You have some paragraphs here that are very eloquent."

"Thanks. If I can ever finish it, I hope I do well. It's due Tuesday."

He grabbed his overnight bag and his backpack. It was better if we left now.

Trent took his car so that he could leave right from lunch. He was packed and ready. We pulled into side-by-side spaces at one of the pavilions at the lake. It was just after 11 o'clock.

"Do you come here often?" Trent asked, as we found a bench.

"Often? No. On occasion," I said. "I came with Ethan a couple of times, but it was too sedate for him. He wanted to do something more exciting. Go go go."

"It's nice," Trent said, looking out over the water. "It's relaxing."

We opened the cooler. I started with a Diet Coke, not wanting a beer just yet. The two of us watched a young couple walking. About every 20 feet, they stopped and took a selfie. Geez, selfies! We took a simple walk around the area. We didn't hold hands, but our pinkies bumped into each other now and then and lingered.

I knew he was trying to relax, but it was challenging. Even after only a few weeks, I had learned to sense a few of Trent's moods. He felt buried. I put my hand on his shoulder and he leaned into me for a moment.

"Have you thought how long you will be home for spring break?" I asked, just to break his anxiety.

He thought. "Probably most of it. I won't be doing anything fun. Particularly at my house. Some of my friends are. I just want to feel caught up. Just having some days at home will probably help that. I might consider just staying in our apartment all by myself for a day or so." He turned to me. "When do you leave?"

"That Saturday morning. I will drive to my parents Friday night. We'll spend a day there, then leave for the trip."

"Sounds nice." We walked further. "Will you text me a photo every now and then?"

"Are you kidding? I wish you were with me. I'm sure I'll send several."

I thought about how that might work as we continued to walk. If a former teacher kept calling, what kind of signs did that make for his parents? Would he have to dart to another room to talk on the phone? I hated that we had to hide. But he needed to live his own life; I couldn't make those decisions.

"Babe, it might be awkward if I called you a lot. How about you call me when you feel comfortable," I said. "Think you will open up to your parents?"

"Oh lord, Mike. I'm not sure I need one more thing on my plate to stress me out. Possibly, but I really doubt it. We'll see."

"Everyone in their own time."

"It doesn't hurt your feelings, does it?"

"Not in the slightest. We'll know when it is right."

Around 11:30, we pulled out the food. I had a blanket in the back seat and spread it over the bench. We didn't really feel like abandoning our view just for a table. I ripped open the bag of chips and sat it between us. We each took out our sandwiches.

"Think your mother suspects that we are a couple?"

"Nah. Not yet." After a few more bites, he said, "The fact that you were my teacher probably throws her off — and would probably freak her out."

I put my sandwich down. I sat silently for a minute. "Freak her out" swam through my brain.

"Mike? Don't worry. When we tell her, we'll do it to where she will be fine with it."

Would she? Was I going to be a problem in Trent's life? What would he do if they didn't accept us? We were so afraid to even tell much of the world about us.

Why were we afraid? What were we doing that we had to hide?

I tried to finish the rest of my sandwich but couldn't and put it in the cooler. I was halfway through my beer. I continued to take drinks, probably a little too fast. Trent was about done with his and took the last bite of his sandwich. I stared at the lake. Putting away the chips, he grabbed an apple. I couldn't see him, but I heard the crunch.

I couldn't get his mother out of my mind. What about his father? He lied to them the other night. We were hiding Trent's past as a student of mine to some people as well. Lying, hiding. It suddenly felt like walls around us. Like it was closing in.

I didn't realize it, but I was breathing harder.

Trent was just two months from graduating. Suddenly the thought of me causing him to fail this last semester haunted me. Surely that couldn't happen. But if he couldn't give up basketball, he only had so much time to dedicate to his classwork. I was in the way. What if I became his biggest mistake? What if I was somehow his downfall?

My thoughts started to splinter. The lake had hypnotized me in a trance. I felt like I couldn't get enough air. So many things were starting to cave in on me. I couldn't breathe.

I froze.

Voices were a maelstrom in my head.

Trent: "She'd probably freak out." Trent's mom: "Mr. Terry, what a surprise." Trent: "I hate being torn." Gayle: "You're crazy!" Lance: "Room for one more guys?" Brett: "Trentski!" Jay: "Maybe you can give me a call sometime." Trent: "Why am I so overwhelmed?" Mark: "Not everyone connects with old teachers." Trent: "I told him I spent the night in your bed." Matthew: "So the whole teacher/student thing isn't weird for you?" Trent: "How do real people juggle all this?" Ricky: "Robbing the cradle much? Is he old enough to shave?" Trent: "Mom! What are you doing here?" Me: "Well, I guess that's a conversation you get to have tonight." Trent: "I let him suck me off." Me: "Me and a former student — it sounds like a breaking news story." Newscaster: "...a Jackson Bend educator has been brought up on charges of an inappropriate relationship with a student..." Trent: "If it is a friend from high school, and I'm dating one of my teachers, it's kind of ... weird." Jason: "Don't be shy fellas. It's just us." Trent's mom: "They get away from home and live in absolute filth." Trent: "I'm really torn." Me: "When you hide something you have to ask yourself why." Trent: "I just wish I could get through these next two months." Me: "I am such a horrible role model."

I put my arms on my knees and my body collapsed gasping for breath. I couldn't breathe.

"Mike!" Trent screamed. "What is it? What's wrong?"

He dropped everything and moved next to me.

"Get me some water," I gasped.

Trent fumbled for a bottle. I had packed one. He unscrewed the lid and handed it to me.

"What is it? Do we need a doctor? Should we go to the hospital?"

I drank a lot of water. I could feel my hands trembling. Trent grabbed my arm. "You're scaring me," he said.

I gasped, recapturing my breath. "I'll be okay."

"What is it?"

"It's wrong. It's all wrong," I muttered.

"What are you talking about? What's wrong. Tell me."

"Us. We're doing this wrong."

"What?"

I buried my face in my hands. I tried to restore my breathing.

"I have handled this ALL WRONG!" I said. "We need to stop."

"Stop what?" Trent asked, concerned and panicked.

"We need to put ... us ... on hold. Just hit pause."

"What are you saying?"

"You came to me needing a confidant, and we got swept up into sex. We didn't do this right. Look at us. You are hiding us from your mother. I am scared the school will find out I'm sleeping with a former student. This is wrong. You can't get caught up with your work. I'm not letting you take care of your studies when you need to finish your degree. You feel like you're drowning. We ... we just need to stop."

Trent was understandably frantic.

"What do you mean?" he said, his voice having a slight quiver.

I stopped and regained my composure.

"I think it is best if we just hit pause ... for two months. Until you graduate, let's just step back. I'm in your way of finishing," I said with a heartbroken voice.

"You ... you're breaking up with me?" he said, shocked.

"No. No. No, no, no. I just say let's take a break — hit pause. You'll graduate in two months, and the whole student/teacher thing is in the past. We'll be two working adults. We won't have to hide anything. I'll be out of your way for two months. I can let you finish your studies," I said.

"I don't want you out of the way. I want you in my life!"

"And I am. I will be. I'm not going anywhere," I said.

"Then why are we splitting up?" he whimpered, his eyes starting to water.

It was killing me that I was causing him this sudden pain. I was in agony. My heart had shattered in so many places, it was like a pane of glass was dropped to the floor.

"It's just temporary," I assured.

"But ... I don't want you to forget me," he pleaded.

"I can't forget you. I'm falling in LOVE with you! I AM in love with you. I ... love you."

There. I said it. Trent breathed in and held it. His eyes were big. He exhaled. "I feel the same. I love you, Mike."

"But it is too fast," I said. "We've only been together ... just over three weeks. It's too fast. We just jumped into sex. You haven't even gone out with others. You and Lance just explored an encounter two weeks ago."

"I'm so sorry about that," he cried. "It won't happen again. I swear. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

"But Trent, you've just accepted you are gay last month. We started out having sex before we even knew each other. I could have been fired for being so stupid. You just jumped in feet first. To be tied down to someone immediately doesn't seem right. It's like I'm forcing you into something. I'm making you be with me only. You haven't had the chance to see what's out there. If we are the right fit, we still will be in two months."

"What if you meet someone new?" he asked.

"That's very unlikely. I have no interest in that. I need you. It's you who will be more apt to meet someone. Just look at how many guys are coming up to you. As much as it would kill me to see you going out with someone else, it isn't unrealistic. Your life is just starting. If we truly feel we love each other, that takes time. There has to be a basis for that reality to be there. It's more than just jumping into bed. If I'm going to commit to being in love with someone, it needs to be right, and I want to know it will last. I handled this all wrong."

"What if when I graduate, I get a job in Paris, and then I'm gone?" he asked.

"Do you speak French?"

"You know what I mean. What if I have to move away?"

"That's a possibility," I said. "And if so, it's best that we didn't drag it out."

Tears were running down his cheeks. I hated that I had done this to him. To me. My heart hurt so bad. What was happening was agony. It was probably inevitable. I grabbed his hands. I knelt on the ground in front of him. My eyes looked up into his, which were pouring tears.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm here. When you are done with school, I want you to come find me. Please. Find. Me. And we'll both know. We'll be sure. This is only temporary. Take care of school. I'll be waiting. I will wait for you, Trent."

I knew he wanted to argue, but I knew he was also realizing what I was saying had some weight to it. I couldn't stand the thought of not being with him. I did love him. I knew he was feeling that pain too. I knew I could wait for him. Would he wait for me? I was taking a risk. What if someone else approaches him? It was what I have feared. Maybe he would realize someone his age is better. I hated that I was letting him find that out. I hated that I could lose him. But I knew it was right. I knew I wanted us to BE right. I had to leave it up to him, but I knew he needed to finish his degree. I was in his way.

We held each other and cried.

After packing up things, we started to walk to the cars. I kept telling myself it was only temporary.

It was only temporary.

I tried to make the tears stop and sniffled them back.

It's only temporary.

I knew he could find someone new. I knew he would be sought out by younger men, guys his age. They would be more appropriate. Please find me, Trent. Please, please come find me.

Dear God, let this only be temporary.

I placed the bags and cooler in the car. We hugged. We didn't move. We stayed embraced for minutes. Years passed in our hold on each other. He kissed me.

"I love you," he whispered.

Then he pushed me away and started walking to his car. Once inside, he just stared at the steering wheel. I was paralyzed and just stood next to my car. He rolled down the window.

"Mike! Come here."

I walked over to his car.

"What?"

"I'll see ya," he said with a tearful wink.

I moved my head through the window inside his car and gave him the deepest kiss we've ever had.

"You better," I whispered.

I turned to walk to my car with tears in my eyes, and the slightest hint of a hopeful smile on my face.

Please go to the blog: timothylane414stories.blogspot.com to see where we go from here.