Tollie's Garden Pt.1 - Sex Stories

Tollie's Garden Pt.1

... the garden. He mystified me. I wanted to know more about him. The next morning, I had to rush. I’d stayed up late studying and slapped off my alarm clock when it rang and went back to sleep, then woke up with a jolt, got dressed, threw on a pair of jeans, a new tank top, my sandals and hopped into Janine’s car, eating an English muffin and trying not to get crumbs on me. She had parked right in front of the carriage house and I saw Tollie in the smaller garden on his knees. He looked up and waved, and I waved back through the open window just as Janine turned us around in the driveway and rushed away. I suddenly remembered the nice evening I’d had with him, and how I was feeling more connected to him in a strange way, but Janine interrupted my thought by telling me that she and her boyfriend Alex had a big fight, so I listened to her. Mom never got up early after working at the restaurant and I knew she and the staff always had a meal and a few drinks after they closed and she’d hang out for a while. Who knows when she came home or what she did. She always left for work before I got home from cheerleading practice or whatever, so sometimes days would go by when we didn’t see each other. I was pretty much on my own, but mom always had something made for my dinner and a note saying she loved me, or to put the clothes in the dryer or take this or that to Tollie. When I walked in the kitchen that afternoon, I went to the window and saw Tollie in his chair in front of the ...

... carriage house writing in the thick notebook and watched him as he wrote, wondering what he was writing about. He was so deep in thought, writing intensely, and then he’d stop and look up at the sky as if that was where the words were coming from. I thought about going out to say hello but didn’t want to interrupt him, so I opened the refrigerator and took out the jug of apple juice, poured a glass and wandered around the big kitchen, thinking about how nice it was and how lucky we were to have such a beautiful house. I put the empty glass in the sink, rinsed it out and then went back to the window and saw Tollie wasn’t there and wondered where he went and why I cared. I shook that thought away, picked up my heavy backpack of books and went up to my room and looked out my window. Tollie was at his table, writing on his laptop. He looked out the window and saw me and smiled, waving at me before he went back to writing. After plopping down on my bed, I picked up a glossy magazine with pictures of girls my age, or a little older, wearing sexy blouses or posing in short skirts, pocketbooks over their shoulders, or showing off their shiny hair with a bottle of shampoo next to them. I thumbed through the pages, barely looking, then stopping, wondering if I would look cool in those shorts, or blue pants, or flowery sundress, before I tossed the magazine aside and remembered Tollie’s question, what am I passionate about? I couldn’t really think of anything and felt a pang in my stomach and ...