Tollie's Garden Pt.1 - Sex Stories

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Tollie's Garden Pt.1

Date: 3/15/2016, Categories: Love Stories, Author: Sisyphus, Rating: 6, Source: LushStories

but didn’t want to ask. “And I hope you find someone to love you. You seem like a really good person. I hardly know you, but I can tell by the way you work in the garden and how I see you writing all the time. I admire that.” “Thanks, Sarah.” He smiled and nodded. I looked at the little table with the lamp next to the soft chair and saw a big manuscript and a thick notebook. “Is that your novel?” “That’s the one I’m working on now, but I have a few others. Mostly I’ve been writing poetry lately.” “Have you been published?” I asked, looking back at him. “No, maybe one day I will, but I just want to write. Hardly anyone has read what I’ve written.” “Don’t you want to be read? Don’t you want to be published?” “I do want to be read and one day I’ll be published, but it’s not that important to me.” My eyes were drawn to his manuscript and I was curious. I liked to read but only had time to read what they assigned in school. I wanted to ask if I could read his novel, but didn’t. “I’d like you to read my novel,” he said, as if reading my mind, “but I know how busy you are. Maybe one day you will read some of what I’ve written. I’d like that.” He looked at me then continued, “I hope you find what you love to do, what makes you happy in your soul.” “My soul? What do you mean?” I wasn’t religious and never thought about my soul. “I mean what makes you happy deep inside so that you feel fulfilled, alive regardless of whether you make money or not, something that really means a lot to ... you and gives you purpose.” I finished my wine and the soup and saw it was getting dark out. “I better get going. I’ve got to study for my history exam.” He nodded, then leaned forward and looked at me with such caring and warmth. His eyes sparkled and it felt like he was seeing deep into me. No one had ever looked at me like that. It made me tingle all over, and I felt like I was glowing. “I enjoyed having dinner with you,” he said. “I did too,” I responded, suddenly feeling reluctant to leave but knew I had to. “This was nice.” When I got up, he walked me to the door that led to the stairway to the garage below. “Let’s do this again,” he said. “I think you’re very beautiful.” I blushed when he said that and swallowed. “Thank you.” I liked how he said that. It was so sincere and sweet. When I walked back to the house, I glanced up at the window and saw him clearing the table and looking down at me. He waved and I waved back. Standing there, I knew something special had happened. No one had ever asked me before what I loved, or felt passionate about, or looked at me like he did, but somehow he awakened something in me, made me think not just about the question of what I’m passionate about, what I love, but about him, how he lived so simply and loved what he was doing and didn’t seem to care if he was published or even need anyone else in his life. He seemed happy and peaceful. I had never met anyone like him. He was no longer the man who rented our carriage house and worked in ...