Well we’re back from the farm and I can honestly say it couldn’t have gone better.

I was a little nervous for a number of reasons. I knew losing the farm would be an emotional time for the family, it would be a lot of hard work getting everything ready and I knew she would be seeing me in a new light. She’d be seeing me with the people that have known me the longest.

Two days before we were going to arrive on the farm I learned that it would be less of a vacation and more of a job. There was still a lot of work to do. Instead of spending the time showing Sade around, we’d be spending the time working, working and working. Not exactly what I had in mind when I knew she was coming back with me. I wanted to take her on a vacation, not take her to a place where she’d be working her ass off.

“I’m thinking of this as an adventure, not a vacation” she assured me.

I swooned.

Yeah….she made me swoon a number of times while we were there. She also made me ache, moan, awe and lots of other mushy feelings.

Now I could go into all the details of how much my family loved her, how great she looked in ragged down farm clothes, how I finally got to feel what it’s like to sleep next to someone I was involved with on the farm (and not just anyone either) how having her there made the trip go from a sad occasion to something I’ll never forget…but I’ll save that for another time.

Long story short, she and I had fun and can’t wait for another trip together. Next time it’ll be somewhere warm though.

Meanwhile, I’m saving my pennies for another adventure with her.

it was pretty hard to say goodbye to this place that has been in my family for over 100 years. Farming isn’t what it used to be (if it ever was), money was always tight when I was growing up, I’m lucky and happy that I got to have the experience I did when I was growing up. I hope to one day be able to buy it back. Will I be able to? Probably not but one never knows. Either way I’m eternally grateful that she came back with me and got to see that part of me.

She’s seen me as a slave and a man and now she’s seen me what I started as. She’s seen me as a farmboy from the great plains.

Here I am at work yet my mind is nowhere near this building.

All I really want right now is to be on my knees for her.   

Or bent over her bed while she stands behind and her mind races at the possibilities.

Or in her kitchen doing the dishes.

Or in the bathroom cleaning her tub.

Or brining her tea.

Or..

Or….

Or…….

I’ve had a lot of people comment and email saying how nice it is to see me write nothing but happy posts lately so I thought I’d balance things out with a happy and a sad post at the same time.

I’ve written about the farm I grew up on a number of times. It’s been in my family for generations. I don’t want to bore you with all the details but long story short my family needs to sell it. It sucks because it’s the one thing I always knew I could go back to. If all else failed I could always go back to the farm. It was my base, my fallback position, my home.

Tomorrow I’m going home to say goodbye.

I’ll be able to see some old friends I haven’t seen in years. Most of my classmates are still back home, most married their high-school sweethearts and most have pumped out a few litters of kids. I’ll be meeting lots of new people as well. New family members added to the pack and new kids belonging to some old friends.

They’ll be meeting someone too.

She’s coming with me.

I know right? Pretty damn cool.

She asked me when the last time I brought a woman from New York back home and I realized I haven’t brought any woman from any city home with me in…well…a decade.

I’m grateful she’s going. Rather than dwelling on the fact that I’m saying goodbye to a place a think of daily, a place that helped define who I am, I’ll be able to share it with her, show her where I used to run and play, where I used to work and where I used to tie myself up.

I’ll be able to share with her a piece of the farm I’ve never shared with anyone before and by doing so she’ll bring a piece of the farm back with her.

I’m also grateful because she knows there are parts of this trip that won’t be easy. She knows at times I’ll be a little emotional and she’s ok with that. Just having her near will make things easier.

Perhaps I’m dwelling too much on the sad part of this trip. 99% of it will be filled with fun and adventure.

Even though I’ll never be able to go back home again (unless I somehow find a few hundred-grand to buy it back), in the end, my last memories of the farm will be good ones.

I wake up before she does.

I cuddle with her for a while, one arm draped over her and my face buried in the back of her neck smelling her skin. I squeeze her and she lets out a very faint and sleepy moan. After an hour I start to get antsy. I want to get up and make her breakfast, wake her up with kisses or…or anything.

I try to slip away but she has a firm grasp on my arm. I gently whisper in her ear. Somewhere in her dreamworld she hears me, smiles and lets go of my arm and I slip away, kissing her arm, then her legs then her feet as I crawl out of bed as carefully as possible.

Getting dressed as quietly as I can I slip out the door without waking her. Outside of her apartment it’s a swarm of people. So many people walking slower than molasses would normally bother me but I’m in a pretty good mood. Waking up and setting off to get breakfast for the woman who owns me always has me beaming.

Twenty minutes later I’m back, quietly unlocking the door and sneaking in. I’m just about to start breakfast when I see her there. Still sleeping and looking way too inviting for me to start in the kitchen.   

It’s at this moment that I debate myself:

“The submissive thing to do would be to have breakfast waiting for her when she wakes up but I may be too loud in the kitchen and I’ll wake her up before she’s ready to get up. If I crawl back in bed with her it will be for purely greedy reasons. It’s just because I want to feel my naked body next to hers and cuddle again. Hmm what to do what to do?”

The debate doesn’t last long. I quietly put the bags down at the foot of the bed and seconds later my clothes are lying next to them.

Care to read her version of the events that took place the other night?

Trust me, you do.

When she emailed it to me I was walking down the street and it froze me in my tracks.

I am such a very lucky lucky bastard/slave/man.

Be Careful What You Wish For