The Thrill of Logan

**Author's note: I apologize for the long introduction, but I hope it is still very amusing and entertaining. My future chapters will have shorter introductions, but will still be juicy. To skip to the dirty stuff, go to the fourth break. Thanks for reading!

*****

It was the summer of '14 and it would be the most memorable summer I would come to know. Everything in the world seemed to happen that summer and every aspect of my life changed thereafter. From the scalding, hot weather to the first true romance I ever endeavored, that summer left a scar that was only visible to the eyes who inflicted it.

#

It would be the summer going into my senior year of high school. It was June, right in the middle weeks of it, when I first saw him. Because of my failure to get my license, I was stuck in my house. It wasn't even my fault for not passing the test, the fucking cones were less than three feet apart, not joking. So I was there, stuck in my too cozy of a house with absolutely nothing to do. Sure, there were certainly practical things I could do, like cleaning and sewing and stuff, but I didn't hate myself that much. Masturbating was great and all, but after a while the loneliness sets in and even an orgasm does not mean much after going at it all day. Being kept up in a house with a fuzzy radio and a lousy dog made me crave adventure, anything that would get my adrenaline pumping.

I could have done something crazy, like gone streaking down my neighborhood roads, but far too many small children would have been scarred by my bouncy and jiggly body. Not to mention my neighbors would be tattle tale assholes and told my parents. I could have totally gotten 'lit' and got some drugs, but I didn't even know where to start to find drugs, like is there an ad in the phone book? Don't they have sex phone operators in the phone book? It could have not been that much more arbitrary to post designated drug dealers in your area.

I was a good girl, though. Too good of a good girl. My parents had a way of scaring me into becoming a hermit of a girl where any thought of doing something semi-outrageous caused me to go into a fit of shakes. Maybe that was just my conscience. Either way, it was a pain in the ass. I saw girls on Instagram wearing these skanky bikinis at the beach with some hot babe who looked like he just walked out of a Hollister photo shoot. It's not that my physique was appalling or anything, it's just I prided myself on not being a slut. Sure, my fully clothed body still didn't keep away the creepy, old men licking at their dentures and winking at me. Am I supposed to be flattered by that?

It was just a normal day of me sitting in the house, mostly naked from the incredulous temperature and eating more ice cream than I ought. On a trip to return the Ben & Jerry's to the kitchen, my eyes glanced through my family room window and caught a glimpse of the most beautiful site. There he was, weeding my neighbor's lawn. He had on a white t-shirt and his long, raggedy hair in a ponytail. He was no stick; he had muscle on him appropriately and a nice pair of thick legs (nothing was more of a turn off than a guy with chicken legs) and his being made me want to swoon.

I had never recalled my neighbor having a gardener. The old doctor next door was not afraid of labor and getting a little dirty, and I'd seen him on numerous occasions handling the flowers. I inched to the couch that sat parallel to the window. I ducked behind the pillows so only my eyes were visible. Watching like a lion stalking its prey, the man worked feverishly going from one task to another. Sweet sweat dripped like golden droplets down his dirt spattered arms. Who are you? I thought puzzling.

Laughing, I construed this image of me walking to the window completely naked and plastering my body, bush and all, to the glass, holding a sign saying "Fuck or nah?" In the spurt of my laughter, he glanced in my direction and I plunged deep into the couch. I raised my head up to regain view of him and I swear I saw a smile on the edge of his lips. I watched persistently for another ten minutes until he disappeared to the other side of my neighbor's house. Dammit, my beautiful eye-candy is gone, I thought, upset. Shit! I forgot to put away my ice cream! I realized I was still holding the tub, and I quickly ran to the freezer.

If only I had known that this would be the first interaction of so many more with Logan.

#

Later that evening, my parents arrived home. Pretending to be doing something of worth, I walked outside in my shredded jean shorts and tank top to attend the plants in the garden. There wasn't much to do, having that it was only June. I watered the garden with the hose, soaking the plants from the summer heat. These plants are wet. A smile crept over my mouth. I was worse than a teenage boy. No one ever describes girls as being perverts, maybe I am the first. That was also why I leeched to Amy Schumer- because of her nasty sense of humor like mine.

As I finished watering the plants, I saw three small red tomatoes in the back of a bush. Huh, early bloomers. Even they are confused with the extraordinary June weather. I pick them off their stems and skipped down my side walk and pushed inside. My stepmother was busy in the kitchen, preparing something for dinner. "Look what I found in the garden!" I smiled at her, trying to resume that whole good-girl persona.

She gave me a confused look and said, "That's odd to be getting them so early. We don't have any use of them right now and they would just be a nuisance in the kitchen. How about you take them to Glenn?" I glance out to my neighbor's house and back at my stepmother's crazy blonde hair bouncing every which way as she pounds at a steak. There was nothing I hated more than awkward interaction with people you sort of know. Like, you know them enough to where you should have conversation, but it always is just small talk and asking about their relatives that you don't really care about.

I nodded my head (because I am such a good girl) and next thing I knew I was pushing my screen door aside to go see Glenn. Glenn ran his own practice and was super savvy for being an old guy. His youngest son was four years older than me, yet he was still living off his father at his house. I often saw his son go back into the woods behind their house and get high with a bunch of his buddies. I've seen numerous girls flock to his cock as well. I like that saying- "flock to his cock." Is that already a phrase? I'm going to start saying that, either way.

I walked up Glenn's side walk and tripped over a step that I didn't realize was there. Aren't you just graceful? I thought, annoyed at my own awkwardness. I sighed and knocked at the grand door. I stand anxiously at the door and about a minute passed by when I turned my back to begin my retreat home. Suddenly, I heard the door open and a low, gentle, "Hello?" came out. I turn around, not quick enough to stop my backward retreat and slid down at the devious step. I could only imagine the step laughing at my failure and the demons in its little ugly eyes- "Can I help you?"

I scrambled up from the ground and pick up the tomatoes that tumbled into the grass. When I looked up, I met eyes with the glorious man I had seen earlier, except this time there was a golden halo shining from his head and a white toga only slightly covering his manly body. Okay, maybe he wasn't actually in a toga, but I swear he was radiating a magnificent glow.

After realizing I had yet to answer his question and I was just staring at him, I quickly responded, "I was just looking for Glenn." I stuck my hand with the tomatoes, "I have these for him, I mean, if he likes tomatoes, he could be allergic or something, I don't know-" I forced my mouth shut as I was rambling on. The man parted his lips to show a smile and my panties almost fell off. He was about two inches taller than me, which was hard to find because I was a tall girl. He also wasn't nearly as old as I thought he was. He looked no older than twenty, maybe twenty-one. It was hard to judge because I was beginning to hallucinate visions of unicorns and rainbows around him.

"I'm sure Glenn will love these," he took them in his hand gently. His brown red curls were beginning to fall out around his forehead. "Who can I tell him these are from?" He was wearing these stereotypical guy cargo shorts but if he stood in a room, he'd stick out like a sour thumb because there was just something so extraordinary, so different about him.

"Oh I'm the neighbor, right over there," I pointed to my house next door. "I'm Florence."

The man smiled kindly, the light shining so elegantly on his hazel eyes. "I'm Logan."

As tempted as I was to stay there and admire his beauty and ask him if he was merely a figment of my imagination, I rushed back home and slammed the door behind me. I ran into my room and jumped on my bed as my body began getting those uncontrollable shakes from the thrill of Logan.

#

I didn't think much would happen after that, that I had been a reckless goof in front of perhaps my one chance at love and I would forever be a lonesome, boring girl. Okay, maybe I had more than that one chance at love, but why not exaggerate? So, it came as a huge surprise when he showed up at my house the very next day.

I was doing my usual. Various half started tasks occurred over the house as my scattered-brain head had difficulty choosing just one task to do and stick with. I sat in the living room, attempting to watch "American Horror Story" because there was such a rave about it. I was more than happy to press pause on the show when I heard the doorbell. Naturally, I got up and made my way to the door. Then, I stopped because I had no idea who was behind the door. What if it was some evil man trying to kidnap girls into the sex slave industry, or what if it's a guy dressed as a UPS man but he is really a murderer, or, oh, what if they are girl scouts selling cookies? Mmm, cookies. I took a deep breath and crossed my fingers behind my back that there would be small youth selling baked goods at my door. I flung open the door and said confidently, "Yes?"

From behind the screen door, the majesty of yesterday appeared. His beautifully shaped face and hazel eyes locked eyes with mine. His curly velvet brown hair fell to his shoulders, and his mouth made a smile when he saw me. Maybe it was because I was standing with one arm up against the door frame and my other hand was propped on my pushed out hip. I was fully ready to spend four dollars for a box of Thin Mints. "Hello," he said kindly.

We stood there awkwardly for a couple seconds, I adjusted my stance so my arms crossed and looking down at my feet, and then he cleared his throat, "Uh, sorry to bother you, miss, but I was making something and seemed to not have enough eggs. I thought it'd be a waste to run to the store for one more egg..." He paused for a moment, waiting to see my reaction.

I shook myself quickly, as if it was ludicrous that I would even actually consider to not give him an egg. "Oh, of course, my pleasure!" I say enthusiastically. I cringed as I realized what I had said. I turned around and retrieved an egg from the kitchen. I respond, "I hope you don't mind that it's not organic. That shit's just way too expensive." I cringed at myself again. God, I must sound so lady-like.

He let out a laugh and scratched the back of his head. He took the egg from me, but he was delaying leaving. "Uh, I guess I will see you around then?" he said hesitantly. His clothes were so simple, just another t-shirt and cargo shorts, but it was a simple-weird kind of elegant. He turned to leave and he waved. "Bye, Florence."

Startled by his remembrance of my name, I paused. He was halfway up the sidewalk before I realized I better say something, anything, so maybe this wouldn't be the last time I would see him. "Goodbye, Logan."

He looked back and smiled such a warm, gorgeous smile. It was the same feeling when you see your favorite singer live for the first time. That disbelief that someone so great is in man form and inhabits Earth, and that ecstasy of making that momentary eye contact with them. To know that they see you and that you see them in the same exact second. That was the feeling when I locked eyes with Logan.

I looked down at the sidewalk and saw a small card on the ground. After I was sure Logan had made it back into my neighbor's house, I pushed open the screen door and up the side walk. It was a tiny business card from a car dealership. As I walked back inside with the card, I only imagined that maybe he was staring at me as I had once stared at him through a window.

#

Oh no, I'm shaking again. Quit it, Florence, quit it!

I walked up to my neighbor's house and never had I been more scared in my life. Roller coasters were scary, and snakes were, too- slithering devils- but nothing in the world had caused me to feel like this before. It was the excitement of roller coasters, but the sudden shock of seeing the slimy bastard in the woods and nearly shitting yourself.

All morning I talked myself up to go over there and giving him his dropped card. I knew it was probably insignificant and he would throw it away after I gave it back, but I convinced myself that for some reason he really needed this specific business card or he would die. I thought about keeping it and starting a shrine, but then I realized that weird ideas such as that was the reason I didn't have friends. So, I tossed that idea out the window.

Note, I still had no idea who this guy was. I didn't know why he was at my neighbor's house, I didn't know his last name, and I didn't know what he was making with that egg. Was any of that missing information going to stop me from loving him? No.

I made it to his doorstep and knocked. Maybe I should just make the shrine? I thought, but before I could sprint away, the door swung open. It was him, as I had hoped. I figured it would be just him since Glenn's and his son's car wasn't there. I wore my shortest booty shorts to make my ass pop out and a v- neck t-shirt. Since I had a little up top and on bottom, I had to show it all off to be semi-seductive. I had turned 18 barely, just barely, two weeks earlier, so I was fresh into the market.

His hair was back in a tiny man bun, and smiled as he saw me. He crossed his arms, where I could see his muscular biceps. Everything about him screamed man. "Why is it that we cannot seem to avoid each other?" he questioned me. I didn't realize he was joking; I began regretting that I came over. God, I look like a little lover girl! I'm so stupid! I stared down at my Converse. He must had realized I did not hear his joking tone and reassured me quickly, "But I enjoy it. It's nice to live never knowing what is going to happen, you know?" I had no idea what that was like since I lived a very predictable and safe life.

"Uh, you dropped this card," I reached out to give him his card, "And I didn't know if you needed it." He gave me look that said he knew what I was doing. "Better safe than sorry, right?" I added, trying to pretend I was just a Good Samaritan doing her neighborly deed.

He cocked his head slightly and said, "Would you like to come inside? I feel it would only be appropriate," he persuaded. I don't think either of us knew why it was appropriate, but we both made it seem as if it was this unspoken reason that was only natural. I nodded my head and he pushed the screen door aside when I passed into the house.

I had never been into the doctor's house. It was cozy like mine was. Neutral tones and leather seats. Everything too clean, too refined, and too quiet. My started to shake, but I quickly put a hand on my arm to stop myself. There was a small kitchenette and small, but spacious kitchen. "Would you like something to drink?" he offered. "Lemonade?"

"Yeah, sounds good," I respond, happily. I leaned back against a counter. He opened the fridge and got out a pitcher of sweet lemon goodness. As the door was closing, I caught site of a single, white egg on a shelf. He wasn't making anything; he wanted to see me! I realized this, he set a glass of lemonade beside me and we made eye contact. I gulped hard as I looked up to see his beautiful, hazel eyes peering down into mine. His tan lightly freckled cheeks were unmarked and so tempting to touch.

In a flash of a second, I forced my lips on his. It wasn't really forced as he had no resistance at all to the demand. His lips were rough, yet easy to the touch of mine. I pushed my hands up through his hair, feeling the curly locks between my fingers. As he began to push his tongue through to part my lips, he grabbed my thighs to hoist my ass onto the counter. My eyes opened as I am startled by this action. Not that I didn't like it, it was just I had never let anyone pick me up in fear of people realizing how much I weighed. Our mouths opened for our tongues to invade each other's mouths. His tongue rubbed mine down. He bit my bottom lip, and I pulled some of his hair back as a reaction. This must have only fueled his fire hotter. He pulled my ass towards the edge of the counter, so our chests were touching, but most importantly, our crotches were rubbing against the fabric of each other's shorts. I wondered if he could feel how wet I was and whether it had soaked through both my panties and shorts. I could believe it since both were such a thin material. His hands gripped the underside of my knee so he kept me close. I started to kiss down his neck and his head flew back. Oh my God, I could feel his erection against my twat. He let out a low moan. He pressed closer to my wet mess. He started lightly pressing his shorts against mine back and forth.

He moved his hands to my stomach and slid them underneath my shirt to grab my waist. His hands sent a line of chills up my back, which caused my lips to pull away from his. He moved his attention to my neck and collarbone. He lightly sucked at my skin, slowly moving down my neck. I moaned and I wanted to tell him to bite me, but I held back as he worked his way back up to my lips. I wasn't sure which one I was more tempted to do: put my hands down my pants or his.

Neither of us noticed that I had bumped and spilt the glass of lemonade until I felt a wet stickiness on the side of my thigh. My eyes opened and glanced down to see it all over the counter. It was in that second that I realized for the first time what I was doing, with whom, and where I was. I broke off of him, pushing back against his chest. His eyes popped opened, shocked, and it took him a second to see the mess beside me. "Oh no!" I said, frantically.

I scooted myself down from the counter. I put both my hands on my head and whispered to myself, "What have I done?"

"It's just lemonade, I can clean it up," he assured me. My back was to him, so he did not realize that my panic was not on the issue of the spilt beverage. He went near the sink and grabbed some paper towels. As he passed, me he caught a glimpse at the paleness of my face and the exurbanite amount of fear in my eyes. My body began to shake, shake so uncontrollably that I had to grasp the counter, so I could gain balance. His face quickly grew concerned. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I thought, I mean, it just came over me and I thought you liked-"

Before he could finish, I bolted out of the house. I was not athletic, but that day I ran like a track star out of there. I got home and slammed the front door shut behind me. I collapsed at the door and clung to the floor as it was the only thing I could find stable enough to support me. Did that just happen? I thought. It couldn't have been real! This all must be a dream! It has to be! It has to be.

The scariest part was that I had no idea whether my shakes were from my conscience or the thrill of Logan. Either way, I kept repeating the same five words in my head, as if by repeating them, I would start to believe them.