Give Me More by Sandra Bosslin

 
    I watched as the dense buildings give way to green mountains and breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t that I hadn’t loved my life in the city, working at a major fashion magazine and living a cosmopolitan lifestyle. It was just that I knew my future lay ahead of me in the sparsely populate mountain town that was about to become my new home. 
     
    I had applied for the job at the small newspaper only weeks after both my parents were killed in a horrible car crash. It was like suddenly my life seemed hollow and I knew I needed to get away and start fresh somewhere new. I wanted to try living a slower life, find love, start a family, and make those things a priority. My priority in the city had always been getting ahead in my job and it never really gave me true happiness. Now I had a chance to try and see if I could find it.
     
    The drive seemed to take forever, even though it was only a few hours to move from my old apartment to my new home out in the small mountain town. I pulled into the gravel driveway and finally got out to stretch. My body was what my mother had lovingly called “womanly” or “like a true black lady” and many hateful peers had called “fat.” I had grown into my body and finally embraced my dark mocha curves as I grew up, but being trapped in a cramped car for hours reminded me that my bountiful curves needed more space than most women.
     
    As I stretched out my sore limbs, I glanced around at my new home. The house was small, but beautiful. It had an old colonial look and was painted a beautiful sage green with pale dusty rose accents. It immediately felt like home.  The house was set back from the road and the backyard bordered the thick, mountainous woods that encircled the town.  To my left was mostly empty meadow, and to my right was another house several yards down.
     
    I shielded my eyes from the strong sun and looked over at my new neighbors. The house and yard were neat and orderly, but much more masculine in appearance than my own little cottage. At first I didn’t see my new neighbors, until a flicker of movement to the side of the house caught my eye. There were two of them, white, muscular, tall, and dark haired. They seemed to be watching me as they carried some lumber across their yard to a small woodshed.  As the second man turned, I realized that the men were twins. They both had the same strong, sharp jawline and chiseled features. I had to admit, I’d always had a thing for white men and these two were fine specimens.
     
    They must have noticed me staring, but they didn’t seem to mind. In fact, they turned and both waved at me with big grins on their face after they placed their lumber in the shed.
     
    “Hey there,” I called out to them. “I’m your new neighbor. My name’s Ashia.”
     
    “Welcome to town, Ashia,” the first man called out. “I’m Blake and this is here is my brother, Bard. We would love to have you over for dinner tonight after you get moved in.”
     
    “And let us know if you need any help!” Bard chimed in. The two men exchanged a mischievous look and then got back to work carrying their wood.
     
    I decided it would be terribly rude to continue staring at their bulging muscles, so I moved my few suitcases into my new house and started unpacking.  After a few hours, I decided to head into the town and pick up some supplies to get me through my first few days until I had time to do a real shopping excursion.
     
    I followed the narrow winding road down to the small main street that served as the center of town.  There were only a few small shops and restaurants, so I wandered along, glancing in the windows. I found a small market commissary that looked perfect for my needs. I grabbed a basket and walked through the store, picking up a few necessities and nonperishable foods to last me until I could get properly set up.
     
    I brought my basket to the front counter, where a skinny grey-haired woman sat reading a thriller. She