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Everywhere there were purple flowers. Asters, as I later learned. There was also the deep, deep purple of some ironweed and the bright yellow of goldenrod, but mostly I remember the huge sea of purple asters. I had never seen anything so lovely.I don’t remember all that we did. I just remember picking a big handful of the lovely purple blooms to take back to mom and I do remember hanging on to them all the way back and being so proud when I handed them to her and she put them in a vase to sit on the mantel above the fireplace.That was my first trip - at least the first I remember - up to the valley. At that age I didn’t go back again for a while. I believe it was in late November - yes, it was just after Thanksgiving - when my dad again suggested we go for a walk the next day. They woke me up early, before the sun was up, and mom dressed me warmly. The weather had turned quite cool and most mornings there was at least a little frost outside until the sun had been up for some time. We. Sensing that the opportunity was drifting away, I knew I had to assert myself.“What did you do there? Tell me Brigitte.”Her lips pouted as her eyes locked onto mine, I knew that look and my chest thumped with anticipation“Jack, I like you a lot and you really want to know."There was a fragility to her voice and a hint of vulnerability. I kissed her softly, an act of tenderness to reassure her everything was fine."Jack, I took my clothes off for them, every night I entertained them all with my naked body.”It took my breath away and a tsunami of lust coursed through me.Pressing my mouth to hers hungrily, she reciprocated readily. Pulling up her skirt, I sank my hand into her panties. With a stifled moan, her juices eased over my fingers as my finger penetrated her. Tugging at the top button of my shorts, she released the fly and they fell to the floor. Purring with encouragement, she wrapped one leg around my waist, “You want to take me here you bad, bad boy?”My strong arm clasped.
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