Heat… Elsa, Before



“Goddammit! Where did I leave my damn keys? Duke?! What am I like huh, boy? Every day I lose something!”

The old lab’s brown eyes followed her around the apartment as he lay on the rug, happily exhausted from their morning run in the park. As usual, Elsa was rushing to get ready for work and was relieved the summer break was about to begin in a couple of weeks. She loved her job, but teaching was a full-on performance art some days. She was all too aware that were several students taking her class simply to make up credits and not because they shared her love of literature.

She was ready for a break from working so hard to inspire them and ignite a passion for the written word. She was looking forward to a summer of playing with Duke and having some real time to return to her “Great American Novel”. She always put mental parentheses around it, a hangover from the derision with which her father viewed her ambitions. She hated that his lack of support, hell, his down right scorn for her chosen profession and her aspiration, still weighed down on her like a yoke on one of her father’s oxen.

She missed her Mom every day. Momma had been the one to arouse and encourage Elsa’s love of books, and later, when at 10 years old, Elsa shyly offered Rosie Compton her first complete short story, she sat and read it and then hugged her daughter tight, telling her how proud she was of her. Elsa had hated leaving her to go to college and later, to teach in a city in a different State, but Momma had scolded her, telling her to enjoy her life. Do all the things she wanted to do. All the things Rosie had never had the chance to do. She had never truly forgiven herself for not being there when Momma had gotten sick. Father had made the executive decision to keep her cancer quiet and it was only by a phone call that Elsa learned of her mother’s passing. She had never forgiven him either.

The ringtone of her cell broke Elsa’s trip down memory lane and refocused her. Checking the caller ID her heart sank to see the name Jody on the screen.

“Really? What the fuck does he want now?” she muttered, giving herself a fist bump in the air as she finally spotted her keys in the fruit bowl.

Grabbing them and bending to give Duke a final hug and his treat stick she thought, “Screw him, he probably just wants money,” dropped the unanswered phone into her bag and locked up the apartment.

The years since she had fled the farm, which is exactly how she had always thought of it, had been the most challenging but the best years of her life. Escaping her tyrannous father and bullish brother, not to mention the various local low-lifes in the nearest hick town was what she needed to blossom and grow into the independent confident woman she was now.

This is what she told herself on the good days. On the days when he didn’t cancel to be with his wife or kids. On the days when he showed up and swept her off her feet. On the days when he took her breath away with his passion for her, leaving her spent and exhausted as he showered, dressed and returned to his family home. But then, alone in her damp, sex scented sheets, she wondered why she was settling for second place. Her therapist had her predictable views about Elsa’s “Daddy issues”, especially bearing in mind the twenty-two year age difference between her and Tom.

Tom. Her lover.

Her boss.

The Dean.

Tom, who fitted her in around his work and domestic schedule, but treated her like a princess when they were alone.

Tom, who she adored but, she knew deep in her heart, would never choose her over his family.

Over his career.

But still, she had her life, her career, friends, Duke and most of all, freedom from the damn farm.

That’s what she told herself.

Work was hectic. End of term approaching meant lots of finishing up and marking to be done. After a crazy morning, Elsa finally sat on a bench in the sunny green campus and opened a pre-packed sandwich, idly checking her phone for missed calls. She was torn between annoyance and alarm to see a dozen missed calls from Jody and almost dropped the cell when it started ringing again in her hand… Jody.

“Hey, what’s wr….”

“Goddamn Els! Don’t you ever answer your fuckin’ phone?!” Jody sounded furious.

“Whoa! Cool it! I’ve been working! What’s the matter?”

Jody’s voice trembled as he said, “It’s Daddy. He’s sick Els. You gotta come home.”

Her blood froze in her veins. She knew this call would come sooner or later. Joe Compton had been an older man when he became a father, making him 74 now, and years of hard farm-work and hard liquor were bound to have taken their toil.

“What is it? How sick?” she asked, trying to slow her breathing. She wasn’t sure if it was the news of her father’s illness or the summons home that was causing the building nausea she felt in her stomach.

“Come home Els! It’s his liver. Cancer. He needs you,” she was amazed to hear her huge, brawny, aggressive, stupid brother break down in sobs.

“Jody? I’ll work this out ok? I’ll be there as soon as I can. For fuck’s sake hold it together ‘til then and listen to me… Stay off the JD ok?” she instructed, adopting Big Sis mode automatically.

Throwing her untouched sandwich in the trash she stood and headed back to the main admin building to organize an early summer break.


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All rights reserved,


Heat… After Duke


Parts 1 – 5.

Waking up in a fog, for a few glorious seconds, Elsa forgot the horrible start to the day, until the memory of Duke’s battered and broken body came flooding back to her. Disorientated, she realised she was in her bed, covered by a thin sheet. Bill must have carried her here after she had exhausted herself crying against his chest.

Stretching, feeling the aching tension in her neck and shoulders, she lifted herself from the bed and wandered into the kitchen, surprised to see it was 3pm. Looking out the kitchen window, she saw him in the field, his hair golden in the afternoon sunshine, shirt off, sweating as he worked in the heat. She noticed her truck was parked off to the side of the house. Jody had brought it back while she slept. The thought of him made her roll her eyes; what the fuck was she doing? Giving up a successful career in the city to care for her dying father was one thing, but how did she end up still here, a year later?

Pulling on her sandals, she slammed the screen door and ran over to the truck. As expected, Jody had left the keys in the ignition.

“Hey! You alright?!” from across the field. Not waiting to answer, she gunned the engine and left the farm in a haze of dust, heading for town.

Bill walked over towards the porch as dusk settled, tired and hot from making up for the work time he had lost as he comforted Elsa earlier. He saw the truck back, parked at the side of the house, skid marks hinting at haste and carelessness.

He heard sobbing and her huddled form came into view, sitting on the porch steps. She made a pitiful sight; her cut off denims, vest and bare feet gave her a childlike quality. He saw her red, swollen face as she looked up at him, noticed the half empty bottle in her hand and it dawned on him that she had been drinking.

Sitting down beside her, taking the bottle from her and grimacing as he swigged a large gulp of the tequila, he turned to her, silent. Using the heel of her hand, she wiped her tears, leaving smudges of dirt on her cheeks.

“Elsa, how long you been here drinkin’?” he asked, “Have you eaten anythin’?”

“If I eat Bill, I’ll throw it right back up, I swear!”

Hesitant, he put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his chest, aware that he was badly in need of a shower but wanting to offer her comfort.

“Tell me about him, about Duke?” he asked softly, his lips close to her hair.

“I rescued him when I moved to the city. I wasn’t used to being all alone and my apartment felt so empty and lonely. So, I went to the pound one day and there he was. His big brown eyes just melted my heart and I took him back home with me there and then.”

Bill smiled against her forehead and gently squeezed her shoulders.

“He was probably too big for my apartment, but I got up extra early every morning and we would run in the park together and I only had classes a few days a week, so I spent a lot of time working at home with him at my feet.”

Babbling, it was as if once she had started talking she couldn’t stop.

“Bill, he used to lick my toes! He loved licking my toes, couldn’t get enough of them. In the winter, if I had socks on, he would pull them off with his teeth so he could lick my toes…” she broke down again, the knowledge that Duke would never again steal her socks was just too much.

“Baby…” he whispered, knowing that was probably too intimate but not able to help himself. He wanted to erase her pain, take if from her and hold it himself. Seeing her like this tore at his heart.

Looking down he said, “You know what? Duke was right, you sure do have pretty feet, lady,” cringing at his feeble attempt to console her, to lift her, which he knew was pointless and stupid.

Her eyes turned up to him, shining with tears and she tilted her head up towards him, wordlessly asking for the kiss. He began to lower his to meet her lips until sense took hold.

“Elsa, I believe you are the single most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes upon, and I want nothin’ more than to kiss you, but if I do it, when I do it, it’s gotta be right. This ain’t the right time. Y’understand?” his forehead was creased with concern. He had made more than his fair share of mistakes in the past but this? this he wanted to get right. For once in his sorry life, he wanted to get it right.

“You hate me now, don’t you? I’m a fuckin’ fool!” she cried and pushed him away, stumbling up the steps into the house, “Go! Just go away!” she screamed, and for the first time since he had arrived to work on her farm, he heard her lock the door behind her.

Feeling like a complete idiot, Elsa bolted the door as fast as she could, not wanting Bill to follow her into the house.

“Elsa! It’s ok! I’ll go, but promise me to eat and to stop drinkin’? Ok? Elsa?!” from outside.

“Ok! Ok! I Promise. Just go!” she yelled back, knowing she was telling a lie.

There was no way in hell she could think of eating or stopping drinking. After seeing the dried blood and matted fur on the truck’s fender when she left the liquor store, she knew that she fully intended to drink until she passed out.

Slumping on the floor in front of the old worn couch, she raised the bottle to her lips, sobbing, “Duke…”

Copyright, 2015,  illicitthoughts.wordpress.co

All rights reserved.

Heat… Jody


Parts 1-4 

“Jesus Jody! What the hell do you… Who the hell do you think you are to come crashing in here without so much as a knock on the goddamned door?!”

Elsa was furious. The lunch with Bill had been going so well. He was easy to talk to, funny, charming, polite. She had more fun over that hour than she had had in… Jesus! It hit her how long it had been since she had actually really laughed with another human being. Nearly a year now since she had left the city, her adopted home, and returned to her childhood home to care for her sick father and manage the farm. Without any help from her dumb ass brother who was standing in front of her; swaying actually…

She realised he was drunk. At 1.30pm he was disgustingly drunk and in a belligerent mood.

“Who the fuck is your new boyfriend?” he slurred, opening the fridge and helping himself to a beer.

“One; he is not my boyfriend. Two; if he was, it would be none of your damn business. Three; did I invite you to raid my fridge?”

Scowling, Jody twisted open the beer and downed half of it in one gulp, finishing with a loud belch she could smell from where she stood.

“Jesus Christ Jody! When did you last shower? Or brush your teeth? 1992?”

“Fuck you. I need to take the truck. I gotta pick up some stuff and my car ain’t got room.”

Rolling her eyes, “And how do I get around?

“Doh…” making a ‘are you totally dumb?’ face at her, “I’ll leave the Honda here ’til tomorrow, will that help you loosen that tight little snatch of yours?”

“You’re fucking disgusting!”

A low growl from Duke across the room as Jody lunged towards Elsa, hands outstretched to grab her shoulders and shake her. She ducked out of his grasp, leaving him to stumble and lose balance. His face, red with fury and drunken indignation as he tried to get back on his feet, “You fuckin’ little bitch…”

She threw the truck keys at him and, calling Duke to follow, fled out the front door before he could stand. She slammed the door hard, making Bill turn his head from his spot across the field. Jody stumbled out after her, still yelling abuse and threats but she stood firm on the porch.

“We ain’t alone anymore so I’d think twice if I were you,” she nodded her head and her brother’s eyes followed to see Bill standing, arms crossed, watching.

“Like I’d fuckin’ bother touching you… You watch that fuckin’ hound! Snarlin’ at me! I’ll fuckin’ end him,” he spat as he made his way to the truck. The thought that she should stop him driving in that state flitted through her mind, but she knew she couldn’t stop him. As long as he didn’t kill anyone else…

Leaving in a haze of dust, he sped down the dirt drive and out of sight.

“Hey! You ok?!” from across the field.

She raised her hand in reply, thumbs up, waved and went back inside to clear up the lunch remains.


“Fuckin’ bitch!” he thought as he turned the key, “Always thought she was better ‘n me, with her fuckin’ fancy schools and fuckin’ fancy job… I’ll fuckin’ show her… Her an’ her fuckin’ dog… If she thinks she can hook up with that fuckin’ cowboy and let him take over MY Daddy’s farm… BITCH!”

Jody gunned the gas and sped towards town.


Rinsing the dishes Elsa watched Bill dig the post holes for the new fence, admiring the fluidity of his movements, the natural grace and rhythm. She wondered what would have, could have happened if Jody hadn’t crashed in on them. Was she kidding herself about the way Bill looked at her? She had glanced at his left hand and saw no ring, but that didn’t really tell her anything. She wondered what was his story… Who is he?

Maybe the year of enforced solitude had made her crazy… she half smiled to herself, Lord knows, it had certainly changed her. She looked back up from the sink to admire her hired help once more.


Photo supplied by a talented friend… thank you x

Copyright, 2015, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.

Heat… Duke


Parts 1-3

The sound of banging woke her. What the hell was that?

“Elsa?! Elsa! You home?” from the front of the house, followed by more banging. Stumbling out of bed she made her way to the kitchen to see Bill through the glass of the front door. She froze.

“Shit!” she thought, hyperaware of her state of dress, or rather, undress; wearing a loose wife-beater that barely skimmed her upper thighs, with armholes gaping wide enough to reveal the sides of her breasts. Running her hands through her bed head hair and trying to shake off the last vestiges of sleep, she realised the very thin cotton fabric was all that shielded her breasts. She quickly crossed her arms over her chest and called, “It’s not locked, c’mon in.”

“Can’t! Got my hands full out here!” he yelled back. She picked up the urgency in his voice and hurried over to open the door, horrified at what she saw in front of her.

Bill’s shirt was splattered with blood and in his arms lay a limp and broken Duke. Her hands flew to her mouth and tears immediately filled her eyes as she watched him carry her old friend over to the kitchen table and gently lie him out.

“What happened? Oh god no…” she wailed, panic stricken and confused, leaning over Duke and stroking the side of his face as he whimpered in pain.

“I found him on the road, must’ve been nicked by a car. I’m so sorry Elsa, it doesn’t look good for him. I called the vet from my truck, he’s on his way over,” his eyes, full of concern, searched her face, and he resisted the urge to hug her, to offer her comfort.

Tears running down her cheeks, no longer caring what she looked like, she bent over and cried, burying her head in Duke’s bloody fur, whispering soothing words to him. The old dog’s eyes gazed up at her, as if pleading her to make his pain end.

He let out another whimper and his eyelids slid shut.

“No! No! No! Duke! Duke baby!” she sobbed, unable to absorb the fact that her lovely, loyal dog was gone. She lifted his lifeless body and hugged him close to her chest, rocking him as she had done when he was stressed out by thunder as a puppy.

Bill stepped up to her, put his hand on her shoulder and murmured, “I’ll be right back. I’ll call the Doc, tell him to turn around.”

He came back to find Elsa cross-legged on the floor with Duke in her lap, stroking him tenderly. Crouching down next to her, he sat with her in silence.

Eventually he reached out and put his hand over hers. She turned to look at him and the sadness in her eyes broke his heart. He hated himself for what he was about to say.

“Elsa, you know what has to happen. I can do it.”

She shook her head, “No. That’s my job. Lemme get dressed. Will you stay here with him? I don’t want him to be alone.”

“Of course. And I’m helping, ok?”

She sank her head down and placed one last kiss on the Lab’s head before standing up and wearily walking back to her room.

Sweat ran down her face and neck as she shoveled the dirt. Standing beside her, holding Duke in his arms, Bill felt like a heel, but she had outright refused to let him dig, saying this was the very last thing she could do for her dog.

“That looks deep enough,” he said, worried she would hurt herself if she kept going.

She stood back, wiped her forehead with her arm, leaving behind a smudge of dirt, and nodded. Kneeling, he gently laid the dog into the hole and looked up at her, “Wanna say somethin’? A prayer?” he asked, squinting at the harsh sunlight that shone through her hair.

“Bye buddy. I love you. Go chase squirrels in doggy heaven,” tears once again flowing down her cheeks.

“I’m gonna fill it back in Elsa, I mean it. You are done in. Sit down a while, ‘k?”

She slumped onto the dusty ground and watched Bill put Duke to rest.

Back in the kitchen, “Why don’t you go get a shower? You’re covered in dirt,” he couldn’t help himself, he reached out and wiped the dirt from her forehead with his thumb.

“’K,” she mumbled.

“I’m gonna make you something to eat while you’re in there. No arguments!”

The smell of french toast wafted down to her bedroom as she dried off and pulled on shorts and vest top. It made her feel sick. Walking barefoot back to the kitchen, wet hair piled up on her head, she said, “Bill… I really can’t eat. I’m sorry.”

“At least have some juice,” he said handing her a glass of orange juice, which she accepted.

He looked at her; pale, swollen red eyes, wet hair. She looked forlorn, like a small child. Lost. He wanted so badly to take her into his arms and make it all okay for her again. How had she affected him so much in such a short time? He couldn’t remember ever feeling this before for any other woman. She had intoxicated him, without even trying.

He wanted to know her, to know everything about her.

He wanted to taste her. He watched as she licked the orange juice from her lips and wanted to know what those lips felt like on his. He wanted to reach out and touch her, feel how soft her skin was, trace every inch of her with his fingertips. He thought of her on the floor yesterday, flushed and breathless. He was sure he had interrupted her as she satisfied herself. Had she been thinking of him as she played? he wondered. Did she want him too?

“I’d better get on with the work Elsa, you gonna take it easy yeah?” he forced himself out of his head and back to reality.

“Oh Bill, I don’t think I can be alone today. Will you stay with me awhile? I’ll still pay you for today, of course,” her eyes looking up at him from underneath her fringe.

Smiling, he replied, “Sure thing, I’ll hang with you. Forget the money.”

A tear trickled down her cheek. He reached out and wiped it away with his thumb and she launched herself into his arms, her face pressed tight against his chest, clinging on to him for dear life as she sobbed uncontrollably. Wrapping his arms around her, breathing in the scent of her freshly washed damp hair, he whispered, “Ssssshhh, s’alright baby, s’alright,” rocking her gently and stroking her back.

Copyright, 2015, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.

Heat… Lunch


Part 1

Part 2

Bill pulled his sweaty shirt over his head and filled the sink with warm soapy water, his mind filled with the image of her on her knees on the floor, the flush on her cheeks, her fingers against her mouth. A smile tickled his lips as he wondered if he had caught her out, she had looked so embarrassed and, yeah, guilty…

Rinsing the soap from his arms and chest, splashing cool water over his neck and face he reached for a towel only to find there was none on the rail.

“Dammit!” under his breath and he stood straight and used his shirt to dry his hands, leaving the small bathroom and walking, shirtless, back into the kitchen.

“Um, Elsa, there was no towel in your bathroom…” he stood awkwardly in the entrance to the kitchen, torso dripping, wetting his jeans waistband.

“Oh my! Oh!” Elsa didn’t know where to put her eyes, wanting to stay and drink in the sight of him but also still feeling like a kid that had been caught doing something bad, “Here, let me get you one, I’m so sorry Bill!”

She rummaged in the hall cupboard and handed him a worn, faded towel, which he used to dry off the last few wet spots on his chest and stomach.

“Your shirt is damp… let me hang it on the porch for a few minutes. This sun’ll get it dry in no time,” she reached out her hand and he gave her the shirt, “Sit! Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.”

He took a seat at the table, then restlessly stood again and went to the counter, carrying the salad and cold cuts she had prepared over to the table, then the large jug of iced tea and was about to look for glasses when she slammed the screen door again as she reentered the room, a startled expression on her face.

“I… uh I wanted to help out, hope that’s ok ma’am, sorry, Elsa,” feeling like he had overstepped his mark, standing in her kitchen, naked from the waist up.

A wide, open smile lit up her face, “Well, I would never complain about a man lending a hand in the kitchen! It’s a novelty for me!” she fetched the glasses from the draining board and set them next to the plates arranged on the table, “Come on, before it gets cold.”

Throwing her head back and laughing at his puzzled expression as he looked at the spread of the food on the table, she said, “It’s salad Bill… I was kiddin’. My humour can be a bit of an acquired taste I guess…”

Red-faced and feeling like a complete heel, he sat and tried to think of something to say. She had such a powerful effect on him. He felt about 14 years old whenever she was near him, not like a full-grown man with a job, a truck, a house. He always felt at ease in people’s company, had never had any trouble with women before. She was something new altogether.

They took their seats, “Help yourself Bill, I made lots. Reckon it’s the least I can do what with you working so hard in that sun,” she said, pouring iced tea into the tumblers.

Taking a forkful of potato salad that tasted so damn good, “This is amazing Elsa! I didn’t realise how hungry I was!” he began to devour the food.

They relaxed, chatting about the scorching heat, the plans she had for the small holding, how she came to be running the farm singlehandedly. Talk came easy between them, as if they had known each other before. A sense of familiarity.


After they had eaten, he insisted on helping her with the dishes, “I’ll wash, you dry. No arguments.”

They were at the sink, laughing over a story Bill was telling her from his last job when the screen door opened and slammed shut with a loud bang, startling them.

“Dammit!” Elsa cried as the glass she was holding slipped from her hand and shattered on the stone floor.

“What in the name o’ hell is goin’ on here?”

She looked up from her crouched position, picking up the shards of glass, to see Jody’s hulking frame standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed, face like thunder.

“Who the hell are you and why are you half nikked in my house?”

“This isn’t your goddamned house Jody and you know that! Quit being an ass and tell me what you want this time,” she shouted, forgetting for a second that Bill was behind her still.

Walking over to Jody, Bill extended his hand, wiping it dry on his jeans first, “Name’s Bill, been helping Elsa out some”.

Eyeing the outstretched hand suspiciously, Jody said, “Best put your shirt on and get back to it then,” glaring at Elsa over Bill’s shoulder.

Turning back towards her, Bill raised his eyebrow and said quietly, “You alright?”

“Course she’s alright! I’m her goddamned brother!”

Elsa rolled her eyes, cast a warning look at her brother and replied, “I’ll be fine Bill, thanks. And thanks for keeping me company over lunch,” only realising she had her hand on his forearm when she saw his eyes flicker down and a slight smile play on his lips.

His lips… Damn her idiot little brother for ruining her… what? her chance with Bill? Was she kidding herself?


“Jesus Jody! What the hell do you… Who the hell do you think you are to come crashing in here without so much as a knock on the goddamned door?!”

Bill heard her yelling as he walked down the porch steps, grinning, thinking to himself, “Yeah, she will be fine, she’s a tough cookie that one.”

Copyright, 2015, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.

Heat… Elsa


Part 1 of the story is here.

Elsa purposely swayed her hips as she walked away from the farmhand, hoping he was watching. She had caught him looking at her several times since he started working there, each time he looked away lightening fast and tried to act as if he hadn’t been staring. It had been so long since she had any male attention that at first she thought she was imagining it, but seeing the way his eyes devoured her as she handed him the glass of lemonade reassured her that she wasn’t crazy.

“C’mon Duke! Inside!” she held the screen door open for the aging lab cross and he shuffled in to find his favourite place on what used to be her father’s chair.

Six months now since he had passed, leaving her to manage the small holding alone. Her Momma had lost her fight against cancer 4 years prior and Elsa had felt there was no choice but for her to leave the city and return to care for her old Dad. Jody, her baby brother, was dumber than a brick and couldn’t be relied upon to do much more than drink beer and shoot at the cans once he’d had his fill. He was pretty, and always had a girl on his arm or in his bed but it was never an option for him to step up and take on responsibility. Rolling her eyes and cursing under her breath, thinking to herself, ‘Baby brother! The dumb fuck is 30 freakin years old!’ then, running her fingers through her hair as she said out loud to Duke, “Well, I guess that makes me an even dumber fuck, huh Duke?”

Sighing, she went to the sink to wash the fixings for a salad and looked out the window across the field. Her hands submerged under the cool flow of water as she washed tomatoes, cucumber and lettuce, humming one of her favourite songs, she watched him digging. The sunlight caught the golden hairs on his arms and chest, his skin glistening with a coating of sweat as his muscles flexed. God he was beautiful! Not too muscular, not a body building type, his definition came from hard work, tough physical toil and labour. His dark blue denims cupped his firm ass perfectly and she watched, captivated, as once again he lifted his hat to swipe his forearm across his brow. The strong midday sunlight caught his blonde hair, now wavy from the moisture of his sweat, shining golden in its rays.

She felt her breath quicken and the heat that spread between her legs came as a shock to her. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had touched her, the last time anyone else’s fingers, other than her own, had brought her pleasure. Without noticing she was doing it, her hands traced her own jawline, fingers deliciously cool from the water, down along her collar bones and reached under the neckline of her vest. Too hot for the restrictions of a bra, her fingertips grazed her nipple, drawing it out of its hiding place and playing with it as she watched him. Feeling the growing wetness soaking her underwear, longing to feel some touch there, she slid her hand away from her breast and down into the waistband of her shorts, parting her legs and leaning against the side of the sink for support. Her fingers caressed and stroked, her eyes on his body the entire time, face flushed, small groans escaping her open lips.

The sensations from her fingers sent her higher and higher and her eyelids slipped closed as she let herself fully embrace the building pleasure spreading from her core outwards. Her fingers working furiously, other hand pushed up under her top squeezing on her hard nipple, she sank to her knees as her orgasm tore through her, eyes squeezed tight, unselfconsciously crying out. As the aftershocks pulsated though her, a slow smile spread across her lips as she tried to regulate her breath again. Opening her eyes, unfocused still as she rearranged her clothes, she brought her hand up to her face and looked at her coated fingers before sucking them and imagining him doing the same.

A rap at the screen door, “Ma’am? Sorry… Elsa? You ok there?” as his head appeared around the doorframe, a look of alarm on his face, “Did you fall?” He rushed over to help her to her feet as she fumbled in a panic to ensure her clothes were in proper order.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah I’m fine, I ah… yeah I’m fine. Sorry… You decided to come have some lunch?” she replied, feeling ridiculous and embarrassed and hoping to God that he hadn’t seen what she had been doing. As he helped her to her feet she was hyperaware of her pruney fingers and the musky scent of heat and sex that hung around her, and for once in her life, hoped that the odour of her sweat from the extraordinary heat would mask it.

“You want to wash up some while I fix us something?” she asked, trying to regain her composure and some sense of control over the situation.

A slow, lopsided grin spread across his face as he gave one nod of his head and said, “Yeah, sure. It’s Bill, by the way,” and he offered his hand properly in a handshake.

Something about the way he smiled at her made her wonder if he had been at the screen door longer than he made out, but she just smiled back and pointed him towards her small bathroom down the hall from the kitchen. She watched his slow, easy walk across the room, and allowed herself the fantasy that he had watched her and liked what he saw. Feeling a new throb begin between her legs as she turned back the counter to assemble a salad, she grinned to herself, humming her song again under her breath.


Copyright, 2015, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.



Sweat trickled lazily down his back, itching his skin as he flexed his cramped, tight neck muscles, relishing the loud cracks as they loosened. Another few hours of digging left, he thought, throwing his hat on the dusty ground before pulling his shirt off and using it to wipe his forehead.

He heard the screen door slap shut and looked up to see her walking across the front porch, barefoot, wearing khaki shorts and a vest which had a dark V of sweat at the back. She had been in and out all morning, carrying laundry, sweeping the porch, scrubbing the windows. She carried herself with a weariness that came from hard physical labour. Her head turned in his direction and he swiftly dropped his gaze and bent to retrieve his hat, keeping his back turned until he heard the screen door again.

For the past week that he’d been working on the farm he’d watched her as she worked outside, as she tended to the hens and played with her dog. He loved her giggle, like wind chimes, the way her face lit up and eyes shone as she laughed when her chickens ran around in front of her, how she called them all different names and spoke to them as if they were her children. Not for the first time, he wondered why she had no man in her life, in her bed. A woman like her deserved to be loved, and loved well.

Hearing the screen door slam again, he concentrated on digging, not wanting to be caught looking at her again.

“Hey, thought you could use a cool drink. It’s like an oven out here.”

He turned to see her standing before him, hand outstretched, holding a glass of iced lemonade that was dripping with condensation, her dog at her heels, panting in the heat.

Taking it from her, feeling her cold wet fingers brush his, he replied, “Thank you Ma’am, much appreciated,” and lifted the glass to his lips. The cold, sweet liquid slid down his parched throat and he greedily swallowed it all in one take, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, gasping with relief.

She smiled as she said, “You look like I should’ve just brought out the whole jug!”, pulling her dark blonde bangs back from her glistening forehead. He saw tiny strands of hair sticking to her neck and longed to brush them away and lick the sweat from her skin.

Realising his eyes were glued to her throat, he cleared his throat and squinted up into the sky trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make him look like a total idiot, “Thanks again Ma’am, but I guess I’d better get back to it.”

“It’s Elsa, Ma’am makes me feel old!” she giggled again and he noticed the flush on her cheeks, “Maybe you should come on in for some lunch in about an hour? I’ll fix up some sandwiches?” her eyebrows raised and she tilted her head slightly, her eyes skimming down his chest and back.

Not waiting for a response, she swiftly turned and walked back towards the farmhouse, calling to the dog to follow her. He watched her long shapely legs, her hips swinging as she moved across the field and wondered if he had imagined the bloom on her cheeks, the way her gaze lingered on his exposed torso, the spark of invitation in her eyes?

Was she only offering him lunch, or more?


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