Black Diaries

THE BUILDER.

Three whole encounters, and you'd have thought that the last one would stick, but no. I finally left Baker Boy, and in tears, if I might add. He wouldn't let me go the day I told him that I was leaving for another city.

Once again, my mother's line of work required movement, and the baker boy felt the worst of it.

When we had time alone, he wouldn't let me go, as he used every opportunity to plunge his wood deep into me, with every thrust was thrown like it was his last. Pinning me on those mossy bathroom walls, I felt him dig deeper with heavy panting, begging for more. Baker boy's hard pumping echoed through the silent rooms as his skin kissed my own butt cheeks. The kind of sex that clapped goodbye, he was on me so hard that he left a mark on my sigmoid.

Off we went to the next place. I was tired of leaving my Mr. Right (kind of) behind, and I was done finding encounters by now (or so I thought).

The new place was a series of well-organized estates, and we had scored a nice house among the many that looked alike. We had been given the seventh lane, and the view was picturesque.

A group of well-trimmed bushes lined along the walkway to the eucalyptus woods sparsely spaced with little winding paths at the edge of the community spelled out welcome, but my heart was not into it at all.

I was still reminiscing on the fact that I'd left sweet baker boy, and I'd never find someone as flirtatious with a rugged dental smile.

A huge sigh left me when we were having dinner ten days after the move. My mother and sister had noticed the change in my mood ever since leaving the previous place but hadn't said anything up until now.

I was afraid that they were onto me and the baker boy. It was a lot of pressure, balancing it out with the heartache from our separation (me and the baker boy).

This had hit home worse than the neighbor because, whereas the neighbor was strict and professional, the baker boy was fun and more fun.

I was going to suggest that we'd be secret boyfriends, and that's when the bomb was dropped on us.

"I have something to tell you,” my mom called out suddenly while looking at me, and that really caught my attention.

“ Yes?” I was surprised, which made me sweat a bit, but I tried to look as innocent as possible. I don't know why I was on edge ever since I'd left Baker Boy. Maybe my consciousness was finally catching up to me because of the times I'd had to lie to my mother and sister so that I'd go and hook up with a baker boy in the name of working. I just couldn't ease that feeling of loss. The sad is thing, my heart was looking forward to the loss that was to find instead of the one that was eating away at it. It was all too much, but I forced myself to act as normal as I could.

"I've noticed how much you love to work.” That was surprising and a relief, but I just nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

“So I've gotten you a job.” Apparently she'd finished and waited for my response, so I gave her the biggest smile, I could afford and hoped she'd buy it. The truth is, it was a smile of ease from the building tension that was my guilt.

"That's wonderful." I sang out; apparently they'd mistook my moodiness for longing. They thought I was longing for my old job and that getting me a new one might cheer me on.

That would be the case, and that was how I found myself wearing a hard hat while standing besides my paternal uncle, who was the head foreman.

He was to lead the renovation of a certain primary school, and I was to be his deputy. This was not my cup of tea, but anything to hide my guilt was welcome, so there I was, standing among a group of various-aged guys.

It was a briefing, and after a while, they were dismissed, and I was glad it was finally over. It was a clatter of different machines and tools; pick axes, shovels,spades and the deadening drills. And the most dangerous thing was that I was not ready to be among men, and on top of that, men built tanks. Muscle men were my kryptonite, but it seems like even though I looked at them, my mind just raced back to baker boy.

I took a turn while inspecting the work being done, trying to see if there was something that was needed. My thoughts were still on baker boy. I was counting down the hours till I'd go and send him a message via WhatsApp. He was rarely online, but he took time to read my messages while he replied with the sweetest words.

It made me feel like we were partially together.

I was so immersed in my thought process that I didn't notice who was in front of me until at least a handful of cold mortar was on my shirt and face.

I gasped at the sight, and I tried to take a step back, which made me slip, and I fell down with my back on the cold cement floor with a loud thud.

Good thing no one else was around; it was me and whoever threw this mixture at me.

"That's what you get for not looking where you are going,” some rude voice spat with a jeer that made my blood boil enough to melt the already-drying mess along with the hard hat.

"Excuse me?” Was all my shocked mouth could master as I stood up to meet the smug bastard who thought this was a call for snide remarks. True, I was lost in my thoughts, but that didn't call for such arrogant talk.

"You're excused.” Again with the hurtful speech, and when my eyes fell on him, my retorts died as quickly as my fuming state.

The most handsome thing I'd ever seen was right before me.

‘ NO' a huge thought stopped me as I thought of baker boy. I didn't want to betray what we had (sort of), and my heart was still freshly hurt, so I did what every cornered mouse could do: squeak and run.

"Forget it.” I squeaked and quickly turned on my heel, doing a bit of sprinting until I disappeared around the corner.

My heart was racing so hard that by the time I reached my uncle's tent or makeshift office, I was sweaty.

He asked me( my uncle) if I was okay, and I told him that I just had a little accident and I was fine.

Just like that, the day went by without ever seeing that gorgeous bastard, much to both my relief and yearning.

By the time I reached home, I was so emotionally and physically tired that I didn't bother with dinner.

I slept as soon as my head caressed the soft pillow, drifting off to yonder. I did have a dream that the gorgeous bastard was looking at me with his smug, handsome face and brown eyes, and everywhere I tried to hide, I found his face looking at me. It was both creepy and thought-provoking, like someone was trying to show me this bastard on purpose.

I tried as hard as I could to conjure a baker's boy's picture, but nothing came up, and it was the bastard's very annoyingly handsome face everywhere. Then the most bizarre thing happened: the bastard winked at me and, with each shut eye, came with a beep. It happened two times before I opened my eyes on the third wink-beep.

I woke up to my phone's beeping, and I took hold of it. It was a message from a baker boy.

Apparently, his phone would require some technical help, so he wouldn't be in touch for a while.

My heart broke at that message, and my mood turned even worse. Of course, I acted like a saint when I was with my mother and sister, but I was a savage when it came to the handsome bastard.

We could argue on occasion that it became a routine until at one point it went too far that I almost blasted his head with a brick because he was really annoying me with his smart mouth.

It happened when he provoked me after I hadn't heard from Baker Boy for weeks. I took out my anger and frustration on him; it was not one of my proudest moments, but he had it coming.

My uncle had to separate us because he knew that between the two of us, the bastard would win.

Let's face it, he was six feet tall with a beefy build. His charcoal-dark-skinned arms were hefty through the brawny years he'd spent on construction sites, and don't forget that he came in second at the local weightlifting championship, but I was ready to see him bleed through that white vest and tattered jeans he'd decided to wear.

“Calm down, boy,” my uncle's gruff voice broke the red that had cloaked my sight, and I immediately regretted it. One of my bricks had grazed the bastard's eyebrow, and he was bleeding (score?). I don't think so.

My uncle was holding me by my waist when he dragged me to this tent.

"You didn't have to be violent,” he barked as he called us both to his tent. I was in for it. What was my mother going to think of me? This was not me. I have never been violent in my life. I always walked away even among the most painful words. She was probably going to stop me from working, not that it would affect me, but being home reminded me too much of a baker boy, and being at work wasn't great either. I just looked down while also praying that the huge and tall guy on my left wouldn't pound me to a pulp at any time.

"And you, why do you keep on taunting him?” Turning to the bastard, my uncle pointed at me while he scolded him. I felt a bit justified that someone saw this as both parties fault for once.

"Now apologize to each other, and we can call it a night,” saying this made my heart deflate happily. That is, if I confirmed my uncle was not going to tell my mother.

"I'm sorry for assaulting you." I looked him in the eye while I apologized. I wanted to show my uncle that I was ready to move on and that my mother needed to be involved.

The bastard must've read me like an open book because, for someone who was good at throwing annoying remarks at me, he raised his good eyebrow and looked at me.

Ahem!

My uncle cleared his throat, which broke the spell, and he muttered a quick apology.

The bastard then excused himself afterwards, leaving me and my uncle alone. This was it; I needed to convince him not to tell his mother.

"I know! I won't tell her.” Before I could even utter a vowel, my uncle raised his hand to stop me.

"I know my sister; she will force you to quit and looks like you don't want to,” he continued while he neatly laced his fingers together on his desk.

He made me promise him to never do it again, and if the bastard taunts me again, I should report him instead of being physical about it.

Another month passed quietly, I might add. It was so quiet, I was worried. The handsome bastard never gave me any more snide remarks; my uncle kept his word, and so did I. The only downside of this quietness was that the baker boy was still unavailable. I tried calling his phone, but it was off.

I wanted to scream, if not for the midnight hours.

Tomorrow was a work-free day being a Sunday, and I missed baker boy even more.

Things got even more complicated because, ever since the day I'd fought with the bastard, something changed within me seeing him bleed. He looked innocent and chivalrous for some reason, since he didn't fight back. He looked at me with sadness and pity. Like someone who knew what I was going through.

But how could he? I don't even know if he was gay or anything. I was alone in this, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I sighed loudly; I couldn't think of the bastard. I was still hang up on the baker boy. I felt like a cheater even just thinking of the bastard's full pink lips that cried out in a silky baritone whenever he was talking or his perfectly trimmed goatee that he always maintained despite the sandy situation at work. I was almost blinded by his perfectly white teeth when he smiled for the first time at something one of the other guys said. His eyes would light up when he was happy, and my insides twisted into a knot of desire while his dominant hand perused through his close shaven head. I wanted the bastard to smile at me or something. I was really confused about why I wanted his attention on me.

He was the enemy, not the friend, I think.

Thoughts like this made me feel guilty, and that's when I decided to check my Instagram. It had been ages since I'd looked it up. Maybe I'd get to see what baker boy was on since he left some pictures before his phone had issues.

I was not ready for what I'd find next when I saw that he had posted a picture an hour ago.

It was a picture of him and some twink with no arse, I might add( still proud of my huge behind). At first, you'd think they were friends, but I knew him very well enough to know that by having his arm around this guy's shoulder and his thumb folded within his four other fingers of his right hand—a sign we did to show that we were gay but in the closet—something I'd come up with earlier, my heart felt a very sharp pain. Like an obelisk had found its way through my flesh.

All the air felt sucked out of my lungs, but I quickly calmed myself down and didn't want to jump to conclusions. Maybe he was another gay man in the closet that the baker boy had decided to support.

I decided to send Baker Boy a message to confirm, but in a subtle way. After ending the message, it immediately had two ticks, which meant he was on. All I had to do was wait. I didn't want to be some jealous, possessive person, so I acted mature.

I waited impatiently looking at the phone every few seconds while I tried calling his number again, which was still switched off. I couldn't fall asleep, and even if I tried doing something else, I just couldn't.

'Ding' an alert for a notification rang as an Instagram message appeared on my phone which was in my waiting hand. I quickly opened the message, and I was in for the shock of my life. To summarize it all, the baker boy was telling me to move on as he did. We wouldn't see each other again, so it was best if we all had new experiences.

The rest was rubbish, and I couldn't bring myself to read any more, so I threw my phone on the other side of my bed as my vision was blurred by the downpour of tears.

I had to cry silent tears because I didn't want to cause any uproar this night, so the rest of the night was spent wallowing in misery until sleep grabbed me by the head. Thinking about it all was worthless at this point because feel down, I expected something like this but I was always in denial.

Someone pounding on my door woke me up from my escape place, and my head felt like it had carried thousands of those mortar-filled pails.

'Time for church," my sister called out, and I couldn't bring myself to go, so I told her that I was having a headache.

She immediately called for my mother, who I prayed wouldn't notice my puffy eyes. It took me a while to convince her to let me stay, but she agreed.

An hour later, I was alone in bed, still thinking of yesterday's saga. I kept myself free of other guys because I thought I had found someone better. There was an instance within this last month where I was about to kiss the bastard.

I was sent to go check up on him; our relationship had gone from hostile to five percent hostile. The remarks were no more than a word or two, but I was used to them. I no longer wanted to kill him ever since I saw him bleed, and I'd gone as far as to ask how he was doing.

I found him trying to cement a wall, and I was told to ask him if he needed anything. I found him half naked with his overalls tied around his waist; his sweaty and massive chest was out, and his eight packs screamed ‘touch me' so vibrantly that I was this close to accepting. I'd also brought the usual attendance list for him to sign.

"Sign here.” Looking away or trying to look away while I handed him the clipboard with the sheet, I felt his hands brush against mine, no I felt his hands on mine. He had larger hands than mine, and on contact, I felt a certain kind of static permeate through me, but I didn't even flinch as my eyes turned to meet his. He kept his hand on mine underneath the clipboard as he inched closer without breaking contact, and with every inch he covered, so was my heart's drumming. We were in line with each other.

I couldn't bring myself to move however much I willed my stubborn legs. They were glued firmly on the cold wet floor.

In a moment, I felt his body warm as he was closer to me, his warmth seeping through my flannel. Towering over me, he had to bend down a bit, enough for me to feel his lips were closer to my nose, and I closed my eyes. 

The hard hat on my head was in the way so he went along to remove it, all this happened while I just watched. I was a spectator in my own body while feeling a kind of emotion still foreign. 

I felt his warm breath tickle my nose while brushing that same skin. I was fully entranced with closed eyes, and I felt my feet slowly rise up to meet his welcoming mouth with mine.

( Now it decides to move, my very weird body)

 

A few inches away that just a single peck as our lips touched and began to dig deeper into the buss, someone dropped something that clanged unto the smooth floors which caused me to jump a few steps back. My senses came back, and I felt guilty for betraying my love for the baker boy. I immediately urged him to sign while I kept my distance.

I was wondering why this was happening when he handed me the hardhat and clipboard after signing, and I zoomed out of there before I'd do anything I'd regret.

 

Regret? A word that fits me very well now that I've thought about the chances I've had to move on. What hurts most is that a part of me kept stating the obvious, but I was still clinging on some fairy tale of my knight in shining amour. My so-called knight in shining amour was off with some bonehead, and I was left with an empty bosom.

What was the point of crying? Baker Boy wasn't the first guy to leave, but he was most certainly the last. The handsome bastard was not going to have a part of me at any time because I was done with heartaches.

For the first time since moving, my mind seemed a lot clearer just as my heart felt emptied and had its doors closed.

I got out of bed, cleaned myself up, and decided to start fresh. I needed a fresh start now that that chapter was officially closed. I was going to focus on myself and my career.

I cooked dinner as a surprise for my mother and sister, who, by the way, were surprised at my sudden change, and we had dinner in peace( so I thought).

“That was your uncle; he needs your help.” My mother's urgent voice worried me when she hung up the phone. Apparently, the phone call was from my uncle.

"He says he needs you to close up today.” She meant the school; my uncle had gone to the hospital since his wife was pregnant. They were expecting their third child, and I was all but happy for him, except no one told me that I was going to find the bastard there.

"Oh, it's you,” with a hint of sarcasm, trying to hide my racing heart at the sight of him standing there in his tight black jeans and a loosely fitting shirt that had his upper chest peeping. I'd say he'd done it on purpose but I couldn't prove my point.

He just raised his eyebrow and folded his bulging arms across his huge chest. I quickly looked away, trying to swat away any desires that had come to mind.

I guess my uncle had sent a familiar face since after the brick incident, I was labelled crazy abd most guys( yes the muscle guys) avoided me like a plague and only the bastard would dare to approach me whenever he wanted something or they wanted something through him.

After the almost-kissed him incident, I tried as much to avoid him until today.

I opened the gate, and he entered. Then I closed the gate behind us. I felt his gaze trying to bore into me, but I ignored him. I needed to arrange tomorrow's attendance sheet, organize whatever files he'd been working on, and go back home as soon as possible.

I reached the tent while panting. I tried matching the bastard's pace, but his long legs were too much for me. He opened the flap on the tent like a true gentleman for me to enter. My uncle's desk was surprisingly neat, except for a few papers. I picked out the new attendance sheet and clipped it on the board while I neatly folded the papers and placed them in the desk drawers. Everything else seemed to be in order until something caught my attention.

Evidently, my uncle was using half of his paycheck to help pay for most guys here, which was unfair because the owner of the school was giving him less pay for a big job. This was why he was so secretive about me doing any paperwork.

"Look at this,” I gasped while trying to show the bastard (yes, we are calling him that until further notice) on the desk. I was hunched back under the glowing bulb that lit up almost the entire tent, which was a big mistake.

He was behind me in a matter of seconds, and his body was enveloping mine. I felt him lean forward over my shoulder with his head on my neck, and I didn't trust myself to make any sudden movements.

"W-W-what are you doing?” With a shaky voice, I tried to ask, but he just grunted. I was not ready for this, but my body was yearning for it.

No, I was not ready, so I immediately turned around and tried to push him away. Bad idea; he was a stamp. Immovable, I tried pushing him, but he wouldn't budge.

He was staring at me like some amusement, and then he smiled, which I've always wanted but not like this.

“Please move." I took a polite approach, but all I got in return was him leaning over and whispering his hot, silky, tickling breath in my air. This was bad; my very own cock was awake now that it was quickly rising up, and the bastard could feel it anytime soon. I didn't want to look weak and nedy infring of him.

“Make me,” and I pleaded. I wanted this so bad, but I couldn't have it. I was still in such grief that I started sobbing with him there. Tears spilled down my eyes once more.

Don't get me wrong, I did cry because of Baker Boy, but because I wanted the bastard for so long, but I was afraid he'd also leave at some point. I could go through this again.

He jumped back like someone scortched by fire as I shook with raw emotions. Tear after tear fought its way down my face, and I expected him to just stand there. I was surprised when I felt someone embrace me while he made shushing sounds. He had decided to embrace me when I expected him to bail. That made me cry even more as I put my hands around his back, grabbed his shirt, and my feelings of hurt, regret, and insecurity came out.

"That's it, let it out,” he carefully whsipered as his hand dabbed my back.

Who was I kidding? I couldn't just pretend that everything was over. I was hurt by the baker boy, and I needed to grieve. I need to feel this pain I was running from, the betray was there and I had to leave the denial.

Finally, after calming down, he left me, made me sit down on the chair behind us, and crouched down, Infront of me. I rubbed my eyes for the last remnants of those awful feelings. He grabbed both my legs while looking at me. I couldn't meet his eyes because he'd seen me in this vulnerable state.

"It's okay to cry,” which made me look him in the eye once more, and I saw sadness. Not his own, but sadness in his eyes on my behalf. No one except my mother and sister had ever done this. It made me want to cry, but I held it in.

"He's not worth crying for,” he added, which surprised me so much that I laughed a bit.

"What made you think that it was someone?” While sniffing, I made a silly comeback.

"You still doubt my smart mouth.” The sarcasm made me laugh once more, and I felt his hand reach out. I flinched at his approach, but his eyes promised me safety and love.

Using his pointing finger, he swiped away the last year drop, and he slowly put that finger in his mouth.

"Now you don't have to bear the sadness alone." Fresh tears of joy began collecting at the corner of my eyes, and he was fast enough to rub them away as quickly as they came.

"I don't know if I can,” that was all I could master, but he placed the same finger on my lips. Something urged me to lick that digit and place it in my mouth.

I was done with the past, and I was going to live in the present. I took his hand and began sucking on his finger, like it oozed something sweet. All while he looked at me with a famished gaze.

It took a while—two minutes—while we were like that until he stood up.

I popped the finger out of my mouth and held it within my hand as he pulled me up gently so we were touching. Our bodies were touching.

We stood there with the simple electric bulb a few feet from his tall frame.

Once again, the same powerful trance stole my body, and I found myself on tiptoes as he bent down and my lips met his with my eyes closed. This was the most magical moment I've ever felt. This was different from what I've been through with the last three encounters. This was far from the tingling I felt with the three men before. This was straight from the heart itself.

He was gentle with my mouth, taking a bit of a nibble as he nipped my mouth. He had his hands underneath my raised chin as he kicked my lips.

Our heads danced side ways like some kind of choreography while we tasted eachother to outlr heart's content.

Out of breath, we looked into each other's eyes, as he also had his strong arm around my waist to support me as I was on the balls of my feet to meet him up there.

"I'm making you mine now." I knew what those words meant when he spoke, but I was afraid. He saw the hesitation in my eyes. I was still afraid that I might end up losing him after we'd had sex.

"I won't make any promises." He whispered these words while he showered my exposed neck with kisses: "But my actions will prove me different from that guy.” My closed doors once again gave way under the weight of those words, and so did my legs when I jumped up and coiled them around his waist with a new fire.

He was taken aback, but he was strong enough that he turned around and had me sit on the desk while my legs were still snaking around him. He held his hands in my hair while mine were around his neck.

"Make me yours then, fill me up” with my new-found courage. It was my turn to whisper, and the passion behind his eyes was set ablaze.

"Let's lose these pants then,” he said, unbuckling my shorts and securing them away, exposing my erect cock, which was happily throbbing. He took me in his large hand and began to softly stroke me while he leaned in for another kiss.

I moaned out of pleasure, feeling his warm mitt on my member.

"I won't hurt you,” he began whispering while kissing my neck. Those words were full of assurance in my life. He would interchange between my neck and mouth, which was going to make me climax earlier than intended.

My responses were in the form of grunts until he stopped and took a step back. I had already flashed

He went on to unbuckle his own tight jeans and pulled them down, showing his briefs; they were sky blue and were struggling hard to contain the huge bulge.

He saw my hungry look as he finally pulled down his briefs to meet the tight jeans around his huge thighs as he bent down till both his pants and briefs were around his legs.

His manmeat sprang out, standing tall and thick—very thick—and I was worried I might be stretched.

He began stroking himself while looking at me.

"I saw something earlier,” he cooed while rammaging through my uncle's desk to get a small container of jelly. It was the same kind all builders use after taking a shower and rinsing off the sand before going home.

I smiled at the coincidence, as he did too. He opened it up and scooped out a large amount. I'd have to explain to my uncle, but that's not important right now.

He took half and slathered it all over his thick cock; it was now shiny, and the rest was going to my exposed arse. My legs were then raised up as I laid back on the desk. My exposed hole was not a virgin one, but with this thickness, I was going to have to feel like a virgin once again.

Using two fingers at once, he entered me. It felt good having his huge fingers inside me; they were massaging me, making me clench around him, then he put in a third one, and it was a bit of a stretch yet again.

He started fingering me in and out. I felt my muscles open up while pleasure hugged me enough to make me curl my toes while my head was thrown back. He was a pro at this, and he kept at it until he felt I was ready for the big gun.

Pulling out his slippery fingers, he established himself in between my legs while he loaded himself before my gaping hole. He held his thick meat and playfully brushed at my pulsating hole again, and slowly, he started piercing me. The thickness took me by surprise even with the constant sex with the baker boy, so I felt him stretch me with every inch I swallowed.

Little by little, I took him, and my walls welcomed him enough to coil around him till his rough pubic hair roughly touched my outer arse.

We both held our breaths as we exhaled at the same time.

"Bless you,” he joked, and I smiled at the synchronicity we shared.

He held both my legs in his hands as he slowly drew out his cock, only to plunge it back in with a bit of force, which caused me to roll my eyes into the back of my head as he hit something within me. Something that made me feel so good, I'd die a happy man.

I came back to my senses with something blocking my mouth.

"That was loud,” he said, his hand on my mouth. Apparently I moaned too loudly, and the thing is, I didn't seem to notice.

"I blame you for being so good at this," I said in a very seductive voice, which made this worse because I'd woken up the beast.

Yet again, I'd gotten a beast, oyé!

He began hammering my arse with my legs up in the air and supported by his own hands. My mouth was covered tightly by my own hands since it looked like I couldn't hold back the moans. I prayed that Uncle's desk would remain intact as the squeaking was slowly turning into something else. He went on to kiss the inside of my thighs while he arched his fit back, ramming into me with unfiltered passion—the kind of passion that would soon erupted white into me at anytime.

I looked at him sweating with every thrust; they slid down and scattered everywhere. I couldn't stroke myself since the amount of moans coming out of me would get us caught.

He placed my legs around his waist, and as he put his hands on either side of the desk, he leaned down close enough to my face, he was dripping with more sweat and he proceeded with filling me up. I could feel myself open with every jab he took at me, and I couldn't hold it in.

The pleasurable pressure that had been building within my balls came fighting through the urethra until it spewed unto my stomach, causing me to bite down on my lip so that I wouldn't scream for joy.

Without breaking his rhythm, he looked at me and smiled with satisfaction, just as he also started breathing like a wild tiger on a hunt. His pace had grown even faster as his pelvis began to slap against his butt cheeks with force. He was breathing heavily as he quickly pulled out of me and spilled his hot seed on my stomach to mix with mine. He had his cock in his hand stroking until the very last drop dropped down. I wanted to know what he tasted like, but I guess that was not for today.

He was panting as hard as I was, and he leaned down for a kiss.

"My first action to you,” this was accompanied by a long slurpy kiss. "No, this is one of the many promises to you,” another wet kiss followed as I put my hands around his thick neck to deepen the kisses.

It was kiss after kiss, and I didn't want to let go until my phone rang.

He groaned at the interruption, and I wanted to join him, but I knew that ringtone was from my own phone. I had forgotten about home, and probably my mother was worried.

I let go of him as he stepped back to let me pick up the call. I found my pants lying on the floor, and I immediately retrieved the phone.

I was correct; it was Mother.

"It's getting late; you should come back home." It was not a suggestion but a command.

"Yes, mother, I'll be home in a few minutes." Although she wasn't convinced, she just hummed a yes and hung up.

I sighed once more, thinking that I was going to leave the builder (yes, he finally changed his name).

"Hey, this is temporary." I know what he meant, but still, I was cut off when he kissed me some more and told me that we should go take a quick shower and go back home.

We held our hands together as we exited the tent through the back. I was now sure that baker boy was no more, and the builder was my new beau.

To be continued…