In no way is he worrying about time.
The only problem is, when we have sex, he drags it out. Actually, just the me coming part.
And at times, he rides me, gets me close, then slows. He then pushes me on again and towards the line, then slows.
It is torture. It is heaven, and I end up having to beg.
Beg to come.
It is hardly a massive problem because in the end, I have the most explosive orgasms imaginable.
Harrison really has changed, and he does seem to adapt fast.
He is constantly engaged in what we are doing and not at all distracted like at times before. The faith he now has in things working out is also evident. He is a far calmer and happier person, too.
He does still, however, have his dark side, and at night, when he is bossy, he commands me to come for him. I still have trouble saying no.
Harry also worships me, like he said he would. I am content. I am satiated, and I amat peace.
As we drive north-eastand for New York, Harry buys me flowers. He also stops to pick me wildflowers. I notice him checking out dogs, and Harry appears a hundred percent serious about building out the family.
It also looks like we are going to get some hounds, soon, too.
On the road home, we stop at farmer’s markets. We enjoy local ice creams and buy homemade jams in small towns all the way through Texas, Oklahoma, and Missouri.
The Jaguar is good, but windy as we take turns driving and being blasted with sun, leaves, and bugs.
The only work-related thing Harrison has us do is stop in some small town in Illinois and check in with a movie crew he has working with on one of their media projects.
It’s a movie and a planned media franchise.
I enjoy the day on the set; it’s cool watching the crew and cast work. It’s also weird seeing the gentler side of Harrison at work.
As he sits with the director and producer in directors’ chairs, they discuss problems and obstacles, and we see some footage.
We head off the next day, and it is cool to see the more physical side of his job, or old job.
We discuss how he will likely only read movie scripts from now on. Besides watching the completed movies that is. Not a bad job at all, and I’m kind of jealous.
I tell Harry I’d like to see a few more movie sets, and he agrees. “As long as they’re in nice locations, it’s not too painful. Standing around sound stages with snow scenes or long chase scenes is like watching paint dry. Long martial arts fights can also go on all day.”
“Right,” I say, getting it. “Rom-coms. Tell me when you’re filming a rom-com next.”
“Us, baby. Us. I’ll tell you whenweare shooting a rom-com.”
Feeling good inside, I grip the Jaguar’s wheel with my fine leather gloves. As we driveon, I realize,ussounds nice.
We arrivein New York State with wind-blasted big hair, tanned faces, smiles, and we are loved up. We have also collected a few weird things on the trip home.
Homemade honey and jams, plus some farmer’s market bought crockery and cool necklaces.
We have also broken the world record for sex in classy hotels, not that we actually know it. As we head further north, I tell Harry I’d like to drive the last section.
Grumpy agrees and he lets me drive.
We travel a little slower, but we end up with more flowers and, oddly, a lot more local honey Harry asks me to stop for.
Finally, we drive into the estate, and as we pass the cemetery, I slow. I hold Harry’s hand and give him a look. “Want me to stop?”
