Harry on the Prairie

Chapter 4

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

How are my little sweet peas doing today?

*****

We talk a bit, and once I'm convinced she's comfortable, I excuse myself to return to the barn since we've got a big day tomorrow.

Only I don't go to the barn. Once I'm out of Frankie's eyesight, I open and close the front door loudly, like I've left the cabin. And then I tip-toe over to the rocking chair by the fireplace and settle in for the night.

*****
Why'd you come in here lookin' like that?
In your high heeled boots and your painted-on jeans?
All decked out like a cowgirl's dream?
Waltzing right in here lookin' like that?
                     --Dolly Parton

FRANKIE

Heavens to Betsy!

I breathe a sigh of relief when I hear the door close and know that Harry's on his way back out to the barn. Maybe if he'd told me about Duke I wouldn't have hollered like a darn fool, but I guess it is what it is. I've done hollered, and I can't do anything about it now.

He is handsomer than any man I've ever seen before. Mrs. Tomlinson shoulda warned me. I don't know what I could have done to prepare myself, but when he's near me I feel all flustered and twitterpated. Can he tell? Somehow I think he knows.

I felt a little hot and bothered on the wagon ride home. He had me bouncing on the bench on account of the way he drove so reckless like. Then sometimes he'd swerve this way or that and I'd be thrust up against him just by gravity alone. I'd brush against him some, and I could feel his strong arms flex as he held the reins, and even once or twice my thigh pressed against his. Just the thought of it made me feel faint. I pretended to be upset with him for doing it on purpose, and in a way I was. Either way, I couldn't deny the effect he had on me.

I know I blushed when he looked at me with those eyes greener than any pasture I've ever seen this side of Kentucky. And sometimes, his eyes get this kinda hooded look to them, like he might be tired or something – where they're only half open, and he bites on his bottom lip just a little bit. He looks like maybe he's thinking about something he shouldn't be.

When he came to my rescue tonight, it was all I could do to keep myself contained in this here bed. I wanted to fling the covers off, run to him, and throw my arms around his neck. But it would be improper for a lady to be seen in her nightclothes in front of a man. He's practically a stranger. This is so unlike me. I have never been so affected by someone before.

I feel so alive lying here now, I wonder if I'll ever be able to fall back to sleep. I wiggle about in the covers a bit and I think about how Harry looked when he came running in here. His curls were all mussed about and he had a couple pieces of straw from the barn sticking out of them. He didn't even take the time to put on a shirt. His chest was strong and tan, and heaving from the excitement and the run from the barn.

When I looked down to his muscular stomach, I thought it'd be the end of me right there, but it wasn't. There was still more to see as I noticed a little path of hair from his bellybutton that traveled down to where his britches were askew.

He musta been sleeping without his pants and threw them on right quick. I could see a hint of where his stomach hair fanned out into more beneath his pants, before I averted my eyes.

I am suddenly hot in the sheets and fling the covers off. I lift my nightgown to expose myself to the dark night air and hope for some cool relief. I know it is a sin to lay like this, but I do it anyway, and I like it. The wrongness of what I am doing makes it even more exciting.

I lift my gown all the way up, my nipples harden as the gown brushes them when I raise it to my neck. I revel in the thrill of being alone in Harry's bed half naked, like he'd probably been in the barn earlier. Hell, like he might be again in the barn right now.

Slowly I bring my hands to my breasts and squeeze them, letting my fingertips linger on my nipples. I press my legs together tightly to try and quell the fire that rages below, but there is no stopping it. I am unable to stop my wicked thoughts, and worse – I don't want to.

I imagine Harry's full lips tasting mine, his body hovering over me. His eyes in that half-open way, his long hair brushing against my breasts as he works his way down my body, kissing places that aren't supposed to be kissed. Places that I know Mrs. Tomlinson and Reverend Payne would be ashamed I had thought about in such a way.

I continue to press my thighs together, but it's just not enough. My left hand slides slowly over my stomach, beneath my knickers, between my thighs to that place. My breath becomes labored as my tentative fingers slide across my wetness.

"Mhmm..." I moan slightly as my hips push against my own hand seeking a release that I dream I am getting from someone else. I want it to be Harry on top of me. Harry between my legs. Harry's long fingers in my wetness touching me in such a way that makes me see more stars than I've ever seen on a dark prairie night. Harry.

"Harry," I whisper into the darkness as my body trembles, "Harry." I bury my face in the pillow even though there's no witness to my wanton behavior.

"Harry," I breathe once more as the pleasure subsides as quickly as it came, and I fall into a satisfied sleep.