Chapter Three
Henna learned of yet another of the benefits of flying first class when they arrived at baggage claim. Eduardo's bag, with the brilliant yellow first class tags attached, waited at the carousel. That additional benefit was negated by having to wait for her bag. Which, of course, came last. At least she'd used the time wisely to sort out having her carry-on returned to her. During the time it took for her to double, then triple check, that they had her carry-on in Miami, it had been properly secured, and would be sent on to her the following day, Eduardo waited patiently off to the side.
He didn't disappear as she feared he might when she insisted that the woman at the lost property desk call Miami for verbal confirmation that her bag, not someone else’s bag, was the one they had. Having Eduardo as a witness to what Simon called her rampant pickiness highlighted how difficult she might appear to be in other people’s eyes.
After she had her bag and all of the confirmation and more a reasonable person could want that her carry-on would be delivered to the hotel, they walked through the doors of baggage claim into the arrivals area. Eduardo gestured to a man who held a name sign that read Salazar. He spoke with the driver briefly before handing off his bag. The man reached for her bag, which she held on to. They wrestled for a moment with her suitcase, but he released it after she gave it a good tug.
“I've lost one bag today,” she said. “I'm not giving this one up.”
“Henna,” Eduardo said. “Relax.”
With a sigh, she gave up her bag. The man with the sign ran off with their luggage before she had a chance to chase him down and take her bag back. “Fine. What's the worst thing that can happen at this point?”
“You're on vacation,” he reminded her. “Leave the stress behind. I promise, if he absconds with our luggage, I will take you to Paris and buy you a new wardrobe.”
“I'll hold you to that,” she said.
Eduardo's reminder that her vacation had started and his suggestion she relax annoyed her. The thoughts, plans, schedules, lists, insignificant worries, and troubles that plagued her constantly tended to travel with her on vacation. A fear that someone at the detail shop she'd left her car at would disregard her explicit instructions not to spray that air freshener that stank of pine and a lingering question of whether or not she'd remembered to leave a note for her housekeeper to empty the fridge and give it a truly thorough cleaning, not just what the woman envisioned to be a proper clean, worried her as she stepped out of the climate controlled airport into a different world than the one she'd left behind that morning.
They walked together outside of the airport into the early evening and into paradise. Eduardo put a familiar arm around her waist as they stepped from the shadows into the sun. The feel of his relaxed body so close to hers calmed her constant agitation.
He stopped midstride as he drew in a deep breath of air. “I love this place. This is paradise.”
Bermuda, with its floral scented air and gentle breezes that carried the sound of the ocean to her ears, refused to let her care whether or not her plants would be watered according to the schedule she'd left behind or if her trash bins would be pulled up to the house after being lifted in a timely enough fashion. Petty concerns and the trivial minutia that made up her life became insignificant as the sun caressed her face and warmed her body. Her physical being forced her to become aware of her surroundings and absorb the peace around her. She sloughed off the accumulated stress she carried like a yoke around her neck as she drew Eduardo's arm tighter around her body.
“It is paradise,” she agreed then reached up and gave him a spontaneous kiss on the jaw. The bristles starting to emerge on the surface of his skin were piquant under her lips. Slightly sharp and a bit rough. Not unlike the man. “I'm happy I met you. At least I think I am. If nothing else, you bring out the capacity in me to be other than I normally am. Thanks for that.”
“You're welcome.” He brushed his hand down her bare arm then kissed her on the mouth and released her. “I live a very busy life. It is nice to have a moment of unexpected perfection.” The arm around her waist drew her in tighter as his mouth returned to hers. The kiss lasted only a moment before he broke it off. “Open your eyes.”
She flicked her lids open and stared at him.
“Tell me the truth,” he said. “Are you a prostitute?”
“Unbelievable.” She pulled away and put just enough space between them that she couldn't slap him if he persisted, but she could deck him with her purse if she needed to. “Are you a gigolo?”
He smiled. “No. I am not a gigolo.”
“Are you married?
“I am not married.” He placed a hand over his heart and raised a hand. “I swear, I am not married.”
“I'm a gynecologist.”
He narrowed one eye and raised the other eyebrow. “That is a woman's doctor? No?”
“Yes. I work with vaginas from a whole different angle.” She paused for a moment and considered what she'd just said. “Did I really just say that? Unbelievable.”
Since the ground didn't open up to swallow her whole, she backed up, prepared to run away in utter horror. Forget her bag. She had credit cards and a desire to get her life back. Who was she and why had she undergone a personality transformation since meeting Eduardo? “You know what? I'm not a hooker. In fact, I'm not anything like this person that I'm being at this moment. I can't say that I don't like it, but I can say that I find it a bit disconcerting. In fact, I think I'm going to get my own ride to the hotel—”
His mouth came down on her, effectively cutting off the string of chatter emerging from hers. He held her tight, preventing her escape.
“Henna,” he said a moment later. “Stop talking. It was a simple question. You're not the only one who’s behaving different from normal. We're both being cautious. Not just you. So... Are you a woman who normally seduces strange men?”
“No,” she said. “I'm not. Are you a man that normally solicits prostitutes in airplane lavatories? Or prostitutes in general? Because that's something I'd like to know.”
“As a rule, no. But I felt compelled to go to you when I saw you. Tell me, what would have happened in the bar if our flight had never left and my friend hadn't interrupted us?”
“I...” She forced her lips into a smile that felt more like a grimace as her eyes darted around. “I don't know. Honestly, if it came down to it, I'm not sure I would have gone through with it in the bar. I still can't believe what happened in the plane.” Unfortunately, his embrace didn't give her any option but to stay put.
“I am not certain I would have either,” he said. “But I enjoyed thinking about it. Then I saw you again.” His mouth pressed to hers, and her eyes automatically slid shut. When they separated, his lips went to her ear. “I don't know who I was at that moment I went to find you, but I wanted to be with you,” he whispered, and Henna felt his warm breath as he began to brush his lips gently against her hair. “I want to take you to the hotel and make love to you properly.”
Henna's knees nearly buckled under the suggestion. She breathed in the scent of lime and vanilla that surrounded him and nodded. “I'd like that,” she managed to croak out.
“So you can kick me out when you're done with me?”
She shrugged a little and smiled. “No,” she said while silently thinking yes. “I'd just be more comfortable.”
He didn't question her motives. After she'd had her way with him, she didn't necessarily want to kick him out but wanted to have that option. The man who had taken her bags pulled up in a generic black limousine. The man held the door for her as she slid into the back seat. Eduardo followed her then the door closed, sealing them in a cocoon of relative privacy.
Eduardo turned to her and placed a hand behind her neck. Their lips came together, and his tongue slipped into her mouth. The driver taking his place in the front seat interrupted the moment. As the man began to talk about the beauty of the island, the disruption caused by Hurricane Delores, and the weather, Eduardo lifted a finger to silence him.
“Thank you. Please take us to our hotel. I'm sure you can imagine we have had a very long day already and would prefer quiet,” he said. His finger pressed the button raising the partition.
She wanted to cheer. Why can't I do that? She dreamed of being the kind of person that could both politely and firmly, tell someone to buzz off. Eduardo had style. If she were alone in the car, she would know the man's life story by the time she arrived at the hotel after taking the extended scenic route. The curse of being nice.
As the car started moving, she turned to Eduardo ready to dive in. Making out in the back of a limo as foreplay seemed an ideal way to continue her sexual adventure.. The moment his hand lighted on her thigh, his cell phone rang.
He looked at the display on his phone. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I must take this. Hola .” His light and airy tone did not sound at all like a man denied the pleasures of Henna by an intrusive and unwanted call.
Henna looked at him as he talked on the phone. She examined him in the warm light of day from his dark brown hair over a face blessed rather than cursed by laugh lines, and down his long slim body, stopping at his fine strong fingers that curled around her thigh. When she thought the conversation was going to end, he reached inside his carry-on, rummaged around for a moment, then pulled out a creased newspaper.
He moved the phone away from his face for a moment as he turned to her. “Do you have a pen?”
She stared at him for a moment. “Do I have a pen?” I'm sitting here next to you in a skirt with no panties and instead of ravaging me quickly in the back of a rather spacious limo, you want a pen. “Just a sec.” With a click of her tongue, she dug in her purse past her torn panties. She had nothing on under her skirt and only so many miles before they reached the hotel. She handed him a pen after giving it a sharp click.
He started to scribble numbers on the newspaper. Her foot tapped Get off the Phone, pause, Get off the phone, pause. Not wearing panties lit a fire in her that woke the vixen within. Like all good girls, she secretly saw herself as a siren in disguise. A saucy sexual being who had the power to drive men to their knees.
Shedding the disguise made up of pencil skirts and sweater sets, revealed the secret. Beneath the sensible attire, she never wore equally sensible bras and panties. No. Always beneath the cotton and wool blends, hid the silk, satin, and lace of her extensive lingerie wardrobe. What she thought had been the penultimate of sexy, silk panties with a matching shelf bra, had been trumped by the ultimate in simplicity. Nothing could be equaled for pure sexual stimulation than nothing at all.
I get it. Her legs opened as much as the good girl in her would allow. The true purpose behind a full Brazilian wax revealed itself as the air drifted up her skirt and around her wet sex. The bad girl in her opened her legs a bit more. Her tongue clicked, marking off the moments Eduardo made her wait. She crossed and uncrossed her legs in a mixture of frustration and anticipation.
Enough. She put her hand on his thigh and made her presence known. One of two things could happen. Either he'd tell her to get off him or he'd get off the phone. She hiked up her skirt enough to straddle his thighs and sit on his lap. The movement of opening her legs and exposing both her bottom and her pussy was like a slap to her internal vixen. That vixen shook off the last vestiges of inactivity and jumped into action. She put her hand under his chin and held his face so that their eyes met. “Get off the phone now!” she barely uttered the words as her mouth shaped them clearly.
Eduardo nodded and held a finger. “Two minutes.” He did have the sense to toss the newspaper and pen to the side as his free hand slid up her skirt. Good choice. She'd give him one minute, then she'd let loose the vixen. The vixen counted to thirty, then made her move.
Her hands landed on his chest as her tongue drew a line up the side of his neck. She took his earlobe into her mouth. He neither told her to move, nor did he get off the phone. Instead of tossing the phone out the window, he continued his conversation. His free hand slid around her bare bottom as she tugged up her skirt exposing herself from the waist down. Her panties, along with what remained of her modesty, had already been removed in the airplane. He moved the phone away from his ear for a brief moment to give her a quick, slippery kiss, with a lot of tongue. Then he returned to his call.
What would she have to do to get him off the phone? Short of putting her mouth over his, the call might never end. Undressing him might send just the clue he needed. She pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. With a quick shrug, he gave her a bit of assistance. Her hands stroked the muscles of his shoulders and arms while she kissed his neck, his jaw, his cheek, finally his nose, eyelids, and forehead. If he didn't respond, then, her final actions in their short but passionate affair would be to take back her pen after tossing his phone out the window.
Eduardo earned a second chance when his free hand slid between them and cupped her bare sex. The unexpected touch of his hands caught her breath for a moment before she exhaled in relief. He massaged, pinched, stretched, and stroked her vulva. Finally, a finger slid into her slick passage and his thumb found her woefully neglected clitoris. How he managed to carry on a conversation while working up an orgasm inside her redefined multitasking from her perspective.
Her head fell on his shoulder as a sigh slipped from her. If he wanted to talk on his phone, so be it. She could care less at that moment as long as his fingers kept working their magic. At precisely the point when her body told her she would be having one very perfect and possibly mind-altering orgasm barring any interruption, he stopped.
“Why?” Her head snapped up and her hand moved from his shoulder to his cheek. “Why are you stopping?” The vixen demanded satisfaction and would have it even if she had to pin him down and take it.
With a final word, then a flick of his wrist, he tossed his phone into his carry-on. “You win. And I am reminded, that a beautiful woman is far more important than whatever my secretary has to tell me that doesn't qualify as an emergency.”
Eduardo moved her off his lap to the seat next to him. He turned to her, then cupped her hips in his hands, his thumbs brushing her hipbones. Without warning, he slid to his knees in front of her, pushing her legs open with his body.
His hands held her hips tightly as he suddenly pulled her forward forcing her legs apart. Between his mouth and his hands, Henna was overwhelmed with the sensation of being taken by a confident man who knew what to do. Without warning, his thumbs eased between the slick folds of her sex, pulling them open and caressing the long neglected flesh of her core.
One finger then two slid inside her as Eduardo's mouth held her and his tongue flicked and toyed around her mouth. A small sigh escaped her throat as her fingers threaded around the back of his neck and through his hair. Her knees spread wider and stretched giving him as much access as she could, silently urging him to race to the finish.
He pulled his mouth from Henna's, leaving her lips tingling as her eyelids blinked. “Oh my,” she mumbled. The sensation of the orgasm she thought she'd lost began to build again. After taking a small break, it was returning with the promise to be stronger and harder than she originally anticipated. Maybe, just maybe, there was something to be said to holding off an orgasm rather than rushing to it just to make sure she got one during sex.
“What do you want?” he whispered before planting his mouth on her neck. “You want my cock? You want my mouth? What do you want?”
“Your fingers,” she sighed then she changed her mind. “No, your mouth. Use your mouth.” Yes. Absolutely. Use your mouth. It might have been nearly a year since she'd had sex, but it had been a lot longer than that since she'd had a nimble tongue treat her properly.
“Tell me what you want me to do with my mouth,” he said, sliding down her body.
Henna took a deep breath and found a bold woman who wasn't afraid of sounding foolish when a man asked her to tell him what she wanted. She wasn't a person who talked dirty to a man. It just seemed so...dirty. But she liked to hear it. So, in a day of firsts, she took a chance.
“Lick me,” she said. “All over. Like I am the most delicious thing you've ever tasted. Spread me open and...” She gasped as Eduardo slid a third finger inside her.
“Devour you?” He plunged his fingers in and out while his thumb caressed her clit.
“Yes. Devouring sounds…right.”
Eduardo slid lower still as his fingers slid out of her and he took hold of her leg, hooking it over his shoulder.
She tilted her pelvis upward and forced her hips against his mouth, not wanting to lose contact with him. Never in her life had she felt so filled with sexual energy or a sense of such total abandon.
She wasn't sure if it was the way he flicked, fluttered and dashed his tongue around her clit that made the tightness in her belly and the anticipation of the inevitable orgasm so delicious. Perhaps it was the freedom of letting her inhibitions go and for once in her sexual life just seizing on a completely wanton opportunity. Maybe it was just the level of stress that had peaked in her life finally being released.
The orgasm that started with his fingers and continued with his mouth concluded like a cliché. Visions of waves smashing against rocks, waterfalls, fountains, champagne corks popping filled her thoughts as her body exploded like a sexual supernova. The physical control she normally held tight to, faded away as her body shivered and twitched. When the sharp burst of her orgasm erupted, her eyes opened for the first time to what being satisfied actually meant. Her skin tingled, her breath only returned when she realized she held a deep inhalation in her lungs.
Eduardo pulled back and slid on to the seat next to her. She turned her head and looked at him. “Phenomenal.” “You are so good at that, I might just need proof that you're not a gigolo, because I really don't believe that you're a farmer.”
Eduardo knew describing himself as a farmer might be misleading. Henna, the supposed gynecologist whose last name he still didn't know, was being as cagey as he was. Eventually, one of them would have to open up, and he figured it might be him. But first, he'd need confirmation that she was who she claimed to be. If she wasn't, if somehow she was a woman after his money either on purpose or by coincidence, he'd figure it out soon enough. She knew how to get his attention. That mattered most of all in the back of the car.
He had felt the energy release from her body at the moment of her orgasm. The satisfaction of being a man enough to make a woman scream created the feeling of both power and control he thought he had lost. He felt more alive in his own skin than he had in two years. “I aim to please.” He leaned over and kissed her softly. “And I am a farmer.”
“Where are your overalls and plaid shirt?”
“I'm not that kind of farmer. How many farmers have you actually met?”
“None actually,” she said. “I'm not a very country sort of person. I grew up in a city. I live in a city. I like cities. Big cities.”
“Have you ever been to the country? There is something to be said for peace and quiet.”
“I'm sure there is,” she said. “Bugs and dirt just aren't my thing.” Her nose curled, and she made a small grimace.
“You're lovely.” It was true. He didn't know who she was, but she'd entered his life with a bang.
He sat back as she slipped her skirt over her thighs, He reached over and kissed her again, letting his tongue slide into her mouth. Another of those exhalations she made that sounded like a cross between a sigh and a moan passed over his tongue as he kissed her. He opened her mouth wider with his own before plunging his tongue inside.
With his tongue in her mouth, he took her hand from his thigh and placed it over his erection still tucked away inside his trousers. The pressure of her small hand on his stiff and ready cock sent a pulse up his body that forced his stomach muscles to clench involuntarily. His tongue moved around her mouth and filled it like a small erection. He had proven to her that he could take a less than subtle hint. He hoped she wouldn't disappoint him by needing more of a nudge.
Immediately, her hand stroked him without requiring any additional prompting. His belt buckle proved to be a tremendous challenge. She broke off their kiss to better concentrate on the mechanics behind unlooping a piece of leather from around a bit of metal.
“I'll get it,” she grumbled as she worked with both hands. His belt at long last came undone. “I got it! Today a belt. Tomorrow the world!”
Where had this beguiling, quirky, maddening girl come from? The moment his life found balance once again, there she was, knocking him off of his feet. First, using him as a character in her personal fantasy, then setting his blood on fire, finally having the nerve to accuse him of being a gigolo. What could possibly be next?
He smiled as his hand reached up and touched her face. “I fear for the world.”
She blinked but said nothing as his thumb stroked the curve of her bottom lip. Her mouth parted slightly and she suddenly captured his thumb with her lips. A shiver rolled through his body. The message had been received. She knew what he wanted. Her teeth playfully nipped at the tip of his finger, then her whole mouth gave it a tantalizing suck. Her tongue slid over the top of his thumb then swirled down the sides as her hand slid inside his trousers. Her mouth released his thumb, and her hand explored what he had to offer.
She stroked and fondled him for a moment before pulling her hand away. Quickly, she unbuttoned, then unzipped his trousers. She slid his underwear and trousers enough to free his cock. “Amazing really.” Her eyes and her hand examined him. “You have the biggest penis I have ever seen in my life. You could do porn.”
He laughed, tilting his head back. “I'll keep that in mind.”
“Can I be totally honest with you?” The examination concluded, then the vigorous and body thrumming stroking began.
His breath heaved in and out of his lungs at a faster pace. His heart increased its beats per minute. Slick pre-cum oozed from the slit. “I wish you would.”
“I really want to blow you, but I'm just not sure about the logistics. Truthfully, I'm just not sure how good of a job...”
Was she serious? Did she actually think he was going to rate her performance like an Olympic judge? Ten out of ten for hand work, but sadly only a six out of ten for fellatio?
“Henna, whatever you do is going to be exquisite. There is no right or wrong way. If I am being totally honest, at this point, if you just keep touching me, I'm going to ejaculate in your hand in about two minutes. You worry too much about something that should only be pleasurable.”
After the negotiations with the woman at the lost baggage, he questioned if Henna might be a bit too concerned about unimportant details and possibly a bit too concerned with things being just so. Warning him of her possible inability to give him a wholly satisfying blowjob because of the size of his cock confirmed that she really did need to let go a little.
“Fine. I'll do my best.” Her hands lighted on his shoulders then slid up and around his neck until her fingers threaded through his hair. Another sensation he'd forgotten about and was pleased to recall. He broke the kiss and stared into her eyes.
He shifted slightly, adjusting himself and pulling her closer. Her legs brushed against his as she slid on top of him once again. Her knees moved between his as she knelt on the seat. She leaned against him and looked into his face. He wondered what she saw as she stared into his eyes and studied his features. Whatever it was, she hadn't found it displeasing. Her lips brushed his briefly, then escaped again.
Slowly, she slinked down his body, grazing against his engorged cock. The air touching the slick, damp tip covered in pre-cum nearly undid him. Henna's touch made him feel like a boy who hadn't learned to control himself.
With a flick of her hair to one side, Henna got down to business. An involuntary groan of pure pleasure escaped his throat as her tongue drew a line up and down his shaft then swirled around the tip. The performance anxiety that had initially plagued her had been baseless. Her tongue moved like a slick, wet brush and her throat pulled him in like a vacuum while her hand held him like a churning vice.
“You are very good at this.” A small amount of encouragement hopefully would alleviate any concern she might have about the well-coordinated combination of tongue, lip, and hand she used masterfully on him.
His head dropped back against the seat as his fingers lightly threaded through her soft auburn hair. He discarded the few pins holding the silky mass in place. The touch of her hair against the bare skin of his thighs and stomach was yet another forgotten sensation.
“I love your hair.” He gathered two handfuls of her locks and let them slip through his fingers. Not one word of complaint from her about messing up her hair doubled his pleasure. Few things aggravated him as much as a woman who had a head full of glorious hair, but complained about him truly showing his appreciation for the time and effort it took to keep it so glowing and perfect.
He relaxed into the rhythm of her movements just long enough to appreciate when she switched actions. The hand that gripped him released its hold then reached between his legs and found a spot on his scrotum that fired a shot through his body like a trigger. He took in a deep gasp of air and exhaled slowly. Her lips fluttered around the top of his cock while her fingers pressed and rubbed that previously undiscovered erogenous zone between his balls and anus.
The hair on his legs and arms stood tall. The sensation of each follicle making contact with his clothing or the air enhanced the shimmering buildup of energy in his body. With a show of personal will and physical restraint, he forced himself not to come. He wanted more than anything else at that moment to hold onto the feeling her touch generated. Deep breaths, clenching his jaw, tightening his stomach muscles only helped for a moment. Then the moment arrived when he had to either willingly let go or explode.
He released determination to last in one exhale. From every inch of his body, the energy that had been accumulating gathered in his groin then exploded with a bang. He came like he hadn't in longer than he could remember. Ripples and convulsions shuddered through his body, shaking him to his core as hot cum shot from him in a seemingly unending stream.
He leaned forward slightly as she held on tight with her mouth. The rapture of her mouth, not only through the last waves of his orgasm but while he calmed and softened had no comparison in his past experience. Henna took it all in and didn't release him until he was fully satiated. With a final suck and a slick pop, her mouth slid away.
Eduardo watched her with his head resting against the back of the seat as she moved gracefully from her knees to the seat next to him. He managed to raise a hand and ran a finger down the line of her jaw. “Thank you. I don't know what you were worried about, but you were perfect.”
Her smile amused him. The smile of a woman who knew she had a man in the palm of her hand. Which she did. “You're very welcome.” She pulled her spare compact out of her carry-on and checked her face. “You mussed me,” she scolded, smoothing her hair. “Do I look like I've been up to no good?” She put her compact on her knee then combed her fingers through her hair.
“Does that bother you? That I messed up your hair?” If it did, then he would be crushed.
“No, not really. I came to terms with my hair a long time ago. Regardless of how little sex I've had recently, I always look like I just had a roll in the hay. Something you'd know about... Rolling in the hay.” She looked at him. “Being a farmer, that is. Tell me the truth. What are you? Some sort of telenovela actor? International man of mystery? Please tell me you are not a model.”
He laughed loudly. “Telenovela? I really am a farmer. It's a big farm, but I am a farmer.”
She pulled lipstick from her purse and managed to juggle it and the compact while studying her face. In his opinion, her mouth was perfect as it was without need for enhancement. But that was the nature of women. He concluded many years earlier that they fussed with the lipstick and the hairspray more to show each other up than to be more appealing to their men. Most men, himself included, preferred the women they were with to be their most natural selves with just the pink flush of desire coloring their skin.
Eduardo watched her while he gathered his composure and enjoyed the feel of his body’s awakening. The simple female gestures and feigned irritation reminded him how much he missed the company of a woman he shared true intimacy with. “You're beautiful.”
Her cheeks were pink, her pupils large black saucers, her skin flushed. She looked like a woman who had been recently satisfied. If the world knew he was responsible for the rose in her cheeks, then all the better.
She gave him a small smile as she snapped her compact shut. His gaze passed over her as he studied all her incongruities. The modest and practical slim black pencil skirt that covered up legs he wanted to wrap around his body. The simple black cardigan that covered an equally simple pale yellow camisole, which allowed just a peek at a lacy bra that held breasts he wanted to hold in his hands.
Cool and sophisticated on the outside but filled with fire and passion. Meeting her at the moment he had in his life created a string of complications that would have to be managed. Destiny was a complicated thing that enjoyed throwing obstacles in the paths of people seeking their way. Questions would need to be answered and truths clarified.
Inside his soul, he somehow knew they had been brought together as a challenge and a reminder to him that life was never simple. His body, his soul, and the universe refused to let him ignore the sexual needs of his physical being. Forcing that part of his nature to sleep had failed.
Henna had awakened the primal animal in him and there would be no putting it down again. His lesson had been learned. No matter how much he wanted to build a wall made from his work and his family around him, there would always be outside influences.
