Her (Book 2) (The Restoration Series) by J. M. Elliott

Author:J. M. Elliott [Elliott, J. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Short Mag Books
Published: 2022-01-05T05:00:00+00:00

The sun-dappled pathway leads to the spot where Ali and I first made love. My gait slows, a feeble attempt to prolong me from spilling my feelings. We reach the field and I stuff my hands into my jeans, arch an eyebrow, pretending I don’t know what Ali thinks my intention may be, but I just want to talk, no hanky-panky. “Do you want to sit somewhere or keep walking through?”

“Keep walking. We could take the bog walk?”

I nod and follow her across the open field. I’m glad I’m kind of dressed for a hike and that she is too. Her outfit isn’t the usual attire I’m accustomed to seeing her in but it’s flattering. A light green tank top that crisscrosses in the front accentuating her cleavage and a sliver of her midriff. Her tattered pants with distinct ripped spaces aren’t as mesmerizing as her shirt, but they make her ass pop.

She has more holes in her jeans than I have in a well-worn work shirt. The part where her skin peeps out is nice though. This style is a bit ridiculous if you ask me, people paying fifty bucks or more for pants that have holes in them. I don’t have to pay for the rips in my jeans: they happen all on their own.

We arrive at the opening of the trail, there’s three different directions to take that are all different lengths. The shortest being one mile whereas the longest is over five.

“Let’s take the green course.” I point at the map. It happens to be the shortest. Ali’s eyes shimmer beneath the summer sky and her petite hand clasps mine.

The walk starts off beautiful: lots of wildlife scurrying about which drowns out the sounds of squishing muskeg-like vegetation underneath the weathered planks of the boardwalk. A bog garden is neat but the sound it makes under your feet is unappealing. Ali hasn’t stopped giggling since we left the field. Between sounds of a slippery vagina or a wet fart and my mind going back and forth over how to start the conversation I came here for, I can’t get into hysterics, although any other time I’d be right there laughing with her.

When she stops every so often and looks back at me, I can see the squinting of her eyes from laughter. Watching my step on these tiny boards not wide enough for someone with big feet like mine, I haven’t been able to pay much attention to Ali’s ass. As we near the first overlook point, I spit out the words I’ve wanted to say for a few days.

“Do we have a future?” They sound different when they hit the air than how I pictured they would in my head. Ali stops, her shoulders move up and down slowly as she breathes. It’s silent for a beat. I can hear the gurgling of the water under the planks where we stand and the rustling of the leaves in the trees. Raking my eyes along her backside, I quietly wait for her to turn toward me or speak.

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