Me and My Merchant Marine, Second Date Property Assessment

   Alright, I won't tease you any longer. It's just hard to write quickies about big things, trying to hit the climax - but not prematurely or after interest goes flaccid.
    Thus far, I'd learned that the best AND worst thing about Troy is that he's away for four-month stints, eight months of the year.
    Like me, Troy doesn't want to get married again. I'm overdone with marriage. I don't say "never," so I'll say: I won't ever get married again. And neither of us has had a relationship (i.e., sex) in over a year. (I always like to say "It's been over a year," when it's been, say, twelve years--or feels that way.) Troy's last girlfriend cried after sex and confessed to being a sex-addict. I assured him I'm not addicted; addicts get a lot of something. I'm more prone to do some fist-pumping versus crying afterward.
    Now, for the scenes. It appears they've been censored, perhaps by the NSA or Marie Osmond. (?)

Setting: Troy's cozy cabin in the heart of Magalia --a small, foresty town 20 miles from Chico, house in which he grew up. [He also owns a condo in Chico.] Hours earlier, he'd told Robyn to visit him with a bottle of wine at sundown; he'd show her his property. She's excited. She wants to see his property.

Scene: They drink wine at kitchen counter, chat, flirt. After lengthy build-up, Troy hooks his feet around Robyn's legs to pull her close.  ~~~~Insert kissing and sound effects.~~~~~~~:
Mmm. Quick heavy breaths. Mm. "Can we move to the couch?" She feigns discomfort. Transfer to couch ensues. He adjusts pillows. They position themselves horizontally. "I don't want to smother you...I want you on top." A cooperative lady, she abides. The room heats up, action accelerates, clothing items are deleted..."Aren't you hot in this big shirt?" Concerned for his health, she helps him remove shirt.  Pants are next. Will there be an insertion? Mmm. Maybe. Heavy breaths. Mmm. It's soon, but it's been too long. And it's pretty long, and big...but not moving. Mmm. Wait, did it budge? He subtlety shifts her up and down along his warm, soft body--very respectfully, of course. Will there be an insert-- an inser-- in-- No. His childhood couch. Twisted memories interfere. Their heartrates slow, but the two appear rather invigorated. Cool down proceeds.They get dressed. He says she surprised him by taking charge. "Really? It must have been the wine," she giggles. Or the fact that she just wants an insertion stat. Plus she likes his property.
 
Scene ends when Troy escorts Robyn to her car. He suggests his place in Chico next time, then watches her drive off under a blanket of stars. She flounders her way home, getting lost several times en route. The neighborhood wild dogs bark viciously at her when she turns down the wrong dirt paths. Still, she grins.

Will there be a proper insertion next time? We'll see...Note: I really don't want to keep teasing you, but I write non-fiction.