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The gardens surrounding were magnificent and she was the most beautiful classy person with a heart of gold. She loved to knit and collect art among other things. She was a member of the knitting club.Their home was at the opposite end of the block, opposite side of the street from my candy lady buddy. The acreage of their property estate spread down to the lake all with a magnificent view of the mountains to the east.I’d met her the night of the first party I attended with my penis slathered in cold cream. She was, by chance, also a long time heating oil customer. Yes, we had fucked, enduring, that night at the Candy Lady’s house party after I’d fixed her oil burner’s plugged up nozzle. It was a different kind of furnace man service this time extending my penis to seven neighbor ladies who loved to knit.Mrs. Jordan was part of the hilarity calling themselves ‘P.I.N.G’, the plugged in nozzle gang, following my work fixing the Candy Lady’s furnace.My partner Gordon and I had worked on. There’s no way for me to contain the emotions, so they convert into tears, which start to spill from my eyes. My brain is spinning like tires on ice, trying to gain traction to formulate a thought. I picture us together, having a wedding, being his wife, and him being my husband. His scent enters my nose as I breathe in, reminding me of the comfort his presence gives me. I breathe out, then answer.“Yes,” I say softly.Skylar takes the ring with one hand, then carefully holds my finger as he slides it on. The black band glides down my finger, over my knuckle, and settles firmly at the base. A few people around us give their congratulations, but I’m only interested in kissing him. I put my arm around his neck and pull myself forward until our lips meet. This memory etches itself into my brain like writing on stone, our first kiss as being engaged.“Do you want to finish?” He asks.I shake my head, then wipe my eyes on his shoulder. The only thing I want to do is go home with him. My legs.
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