Six Months With My Uncle (Forbidden Fantasies 59)

I know what she wants me to say, and of course, that’s what I want too. I want Hadley to stay. I’m ready to get down on my knees to beg the curvy girl to be mine, but what kind of man would that make me? After all, I’m an adult, and I should know better. Hell, I never should have agreed to six months of hedonistic pleasure to begin with. Going back further, I never should have made love to her in the field when I caught her with that ear of corn, nor should I have opened my door to her that first day she appeared on my porch. She’s burrowed her way into my heart, and now it contracts painfully, anticipating her departure.

As a result, we sit here in stilted silence. Hadley plays with her broccoli, looking down at her plate, but doesn’t eat. It’s been like this all day. Early this morning when I opened my eyes, the curvy girl was trembling in my arms. Her thighs were creamy and she opened them in invitation. Of course, I plowed her forcefully, even more frenetic than usual, and soon, she was crying out my name while clawing half-moons into my back.

But after it was done, Hadley wouldn’t look at me. Silently, the curvy girl rose from our bed and trudged to the bathroom before the water began to run. I swear, I could hear crying in the shower, and every cell of my being longed to get up and comfort her. I wanted to join her in that small stall, and to soothe her with kisses until she agreed to be mine.

But I couldn’t. Hadley’s not mine. She has never been mine, and now that our six month liaison is ending, we have to face reality.

The beautiful girl looks miserable, that’s for sure. She’s uncommonly pale, and her blonde hair looks a bit limp lying against her shoulders. Her clothes are drab and those shoulders sag. It’s all because I haven’t invited her to stay at Renfrew Acres, but doesn’t she understand? I can’t. I’m the adult here, and we can’t continue this taboo relationship because it’ll ruin her life. Our liaison will get out and her reputation will be tarnished. At least this way, we can cut things off without any permanent damage.

But I feel terrible about hurting her, and I feel terrible about hurting myself as well. My heart feels like it’s going to split open, and despite assiduously cutting into my steak, I can’t eat a single bite. It tastes like sawdust in my mouth and I have to gulp water just to swallow. It’s bad.

After dinner, the silence lingers. We wash up together, and then when the kitchen’s spic and span, I take her small hand in mine.

“Are you ready, honey?”

Her breath hitches, but then she nods, and I lean forward for a kiss. Hadley’s mouth is soft, sweet, and everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Her lips part beneath mine, and soon, I’ve spirited her to the bedroom and we’re making love desperately. She moans my name, caressing every inch of my skin before taking me deep between her thighs. I’ve never come so hard, nor coupled so furiously with a woman, and I know she feels the same urgency.

Afterwards, the two of us lay together, our skin sheened with sweat as we pant with post-coital satisfaction. But neither of us speak because what is there to say? There are no words that can encapsulate the deep sadness in my chest, and I merely pull her curvy form close, savoring her softness. It feels right. Lying here in the dark with my woman is the right thing to do, and yet at some cerebral level, I know it’s wrong as well. Talk about fucking confusing.

Hadley drifts off after a half hour or so, but I’m up for the majority of the night desperately trying to think of solutions. Is there a path forward for us where we don’t have to forsake one another? Can we move to a different country and take on new identities so that no one knows our relationship to one another? My mind churns but it’s hopeless because I know I can’t leave Renfrew Acres. This farm is everything to me, so it’s not that I can’t leave the property. It’s that I won’t.

At some point during the night, I doze off and when I wake the next morning, she’s disappeared. I sit up, looking around with desperation, but there’s only an imprint on the bed next to me and my heart plummets to my feet. She’s gone.

Sure enough, when I get up to investigate, there’s no sign of Hadley’s clothes in the closet, her toiletries in the bathroom, or her books on my shelves. The spare bedroom is pristine, and sure enough, her suitcases are gone as well.