1. Maggie's Farm


    Date: 6/9/2016, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: Sisyphus, Rating: 8, Source: LushStories

    wasn’t hungry after that big breakfast and thought I’d be home in two hours or so. I took off the way he told me and my mind was swirling with all that had happened. I turned on the radio to listen to some classical music on public radio, but barely listened, as I thought about everything that had transpired—how sexy Maggie looked when I drove up, our wild sex in the hayloft, then how I stayed for dinner, got stoned and looked up at the stars with her. I remembered dancing in the dark candlelit room before making the most exquisite love of my life. I thought about suddenly leaving my cabin, not knowing where I was going, and then, out of the blue, meeting the most amazing woman I had ever known. I couldn’t wait to get home and return to her the next day and begin my new life. Again, I thought about Bob Dylan’s song about not working on Maggie’s Farm no more, but that’s just what I was going to do. The thought made me laugh. At home, I got busy. I put a lot of straw mulch on my garden, even though I was abandoning it. I put things away, even swept the floor before putting all of my manuscripts in a box and packing up my laptop and printer. I called an old friend and asked if she wanted my plants, and told her that I was leaving and to take the food in the refrigerator. She could just come over and get them when she had time. I never locked my cabin. No one did where I lived, and I thought, if someone did break in, they could have whatever they wanted. Where I was going, I ...
    would have everything I needed. I figured I would come back from time to time and check on things. That night, I had difficulty sleeping. My mind was so full of thoughts—my good luck, how quickly one’s life can change, and how I now had the love of my life. I got up early and made my way back to Maggie’s farm. On the way, I listened to the radio and was amazed that public radio was playing Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. I turned it up loud and felt the music going through me. A few times, I took one hand from the steering wheel and gestured as if I was conducting the orchestra. I drove past Hinkley’s General Store, excited that I was getting closer and found the covered bridge, drove up and over the hill, my heart leaping, knowing that around the next bend I would see Maggie’s farm stand. When I looked ahead I didn’t see the green and yellow umbrella or the table. I kept driving, thinking I must have missed it, but couldn’t imagine how. I turned around and drove back, slowing down, then stopped when I noticed a beat up old For Sale sign where I was sure her farm was. I saw high brown grass, the barn looked like it was falling apart with the roof sinking in, and then I looked at the dilapidated farmhouse, seeing the paint peeling, a shutter on the second floor hanging loosely, vines growing up over the roof of the porch, leaves and debris covering the entrance to the house. The old green pickup truck had two flat tires and was mostly rust. I panicked, not knowing what to think, ...
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