A Roll In The Hay

Aria Rae

Your heart raced wildly as you rode your impressive steed for all he was worth. Cantering up and down, you urged him on between ragged, gasping breaths. Faster. Harder. Your thighs tensed with every rise and fall of your body as the wind billowed through your hair, loose strands fluttering across your face. You galloped hard, across the green meadows that gradually rose in elevation, until finally coming to a halt at the old oak tree that sat proudly and so prominently at the top of the valley. Dismounting, you gasped for air. Wildfire, your thoroughbred steed, snorted as you fondly patted his strong neck. The ride was exhilarating as ever. You glanced over the vast patchwork of greens and yellows that spanned for as far as the eye could see, your farm only just about recognizable as a small dot in the far distance. Sanctuary. You sat, resting your back against the trunk of the famous oak, feeling the warmth of the late summer sun tingling upon your forearms. This spot your escape. A refuge for all those times. Times when you needed to be alone, to gather your thoughts; one that over the years had listened to you curse and shout as well as shed more than a tear or two. A wry smile crossed your lips as you remembered back to that first time. How you had run as fast as your legs would carry you after your first heartbreak, Ryan Harrison. Your first school crush all those years ago. And now you found yourself here once more. Not so much heartbreak but a growing sense of anguish. An unexpected curve ball that had knocked you for six, turning your world upside down. An internal torment that played in your mind as you yearned to fight the most primitive of urges. If you could turn back time, part of you longed to take another direction. Yet, even as you consider this, you already sense the self-doubt pulling back in the opposite direction in equal measure. The angel and devil on your shoulders in a tug of war. Whilst friends had moved on, seeking the lure of bright lights, you had always been a country girl at heart. A local through and through. Despite the schoolgirl heartbreak of Ryan Harrison and a few others along the way, you had found love and settled in the only place you had really ever known. A job at the florist had been enough in those early years, a place where you heart swooned when Clint first walked through those doors. Marriage ensued and the start of a new adventure where your dream of a farm and accompanying stables slowly became a reality through a mix of sweat and hard graft. Life had been great, the stables growing and allowing you to peruse the pleasures of riding. The accident had, however, changed everything. Something so innocuous but it devastated Clint. A man used to being able to do everything physical, now reduced to needing support. Even the most basic of tasks became so much more and, despite your enthusiasm, you could see the energy drain from him. Staying strong, you had pushed him on, comforting him in his darker moments whilst saving your tears for times of solitude. Many a time you had found yourself at this very spot; indeed, more times than you dare remember. Managing the farm and the stables, along with his care, had been hard yet you were made of stern stuff. You made ends meet, giving all you had, the support of those around you helping where they could. And ,when a young traveller walked up the farm track offering to work for merely shelter and food for a few days, little knew how it would turn your world upside down. Jake was only in his mid-twenties, the city bahis siteleri had already eaten him up and spat him out. Quitting his job, he was looking to find himself, traveling with no particular path or destination. You remember being guarded at first, wary of a stranger, but Clint had took an instant shine to him and offered him to kip down in the barn and three square meals for a days graft farm. An offer that was gratefully accepted. His arrival, breathed new life into Clint and, as you watched them laugh over a beer, it was though he could see some of himself in this young stable hand. And, as you watched from the kitchen window, you couldn’t disagree. Your eyes danced over his chiselled good looks and dark scruffy hair. Relaying stories and adventures, Clint seemed to thrive on the young man’s presence and, over the days that followed, dinners where often a three-way affair. Despite your initial reservations, his help was most welcome, the more physically demanding work coming as a huge relief. Working the top field in half the time you ever could, gave you time to focus on the stables. And his arrival did not go unnoticed by the female young stable hands who swooned for his attention. You smiled as you overheard a couple of the girls whispering about the new stud. And it wasn’t restricted to just the stable hands. Neighbouring farmers, Alison and her husband, had always been close friends. You often found yourselves meeting up for lunches and, quickly, she had become you closest friend. Bubbly and outgoing, she often had you in fits of laughter and, on that day, she had been no different as she turned the pick-up onto the farm driveway. The gravel crunched under the tires as they lurched up the dusty track alongside the green fields. With the windows fully open, the warm summer air blustered through your hair. As the vehicle rocked from side to side along the narrow track, you spotted a topless Jake out in the meadow, raking up hay bales in the heat of late afternoon. Eyes hidden behind your sunglasses, you watch as he worked, the heat of the day glistening upon his toned body. “Well hello, who is that?” Alison interjected enthusiastically, her eyes widening as she took in the young man, checked shirt tied loosely around his waist, biceps flexing and defined chest glimmering with a layer of sweat in the heat of the afternoon. “Oh, a passerby who Clint offered some casual labour work to,” you answer, the casual tone in your voice making it evident that this was not the first time you’d taken in drifters. “Can he rustle up another one for me? He’s delicious!” Alison enthused, her head turning as the truck rumbled up the sandy track. “Alison!” you exclaimed, not sure whether she was serious or merely playing up. “Oh, come on, live a little, imagine your hands on a rough and rugged guy like that. You can tell him to come over our way when he’s done and make sure he leaves the shirt off!” she brashly responded in so-typical Alison style. You smiled but, before you could respond, she lent out of the open window, whooping and waving enthusiastically in his direction. Instantly embarrassed, you felt your cheeks blush at her outright forwardness as he turned towards the fracas, waving back. Not that you hid your gaze, enjoying the sight of his body. “Whatever are you like Alison?” you gasped, much to her amusement, yet secretly enjoying the view. That evening, you tried to apologize for Alison’s behaviour but felt like a skittish schoolgirl around the local heartthrob, his eyes seemingly more canlı bahis siteleri intense as you both tried to hide your smiles with little success. And, as the days passed, he invaded your thoughts with increasing frequency. Thoughts that woke feelings that had remained dormant since the accident. You had tended to Clint’s needs but the physicality was gone, that feeling of being overpowered and at the mercy of his hunger no more. A craving that you had begun to yearn once more. With those thoughts came torment, for you loved Clint with all your heart. You had continued to carry on with life, yet with every passing encounter it was as though you could feel a growing intensity between you and Jake. An innocent tender touch of your arm, or stolen glance across the table lasting that moment too long before you had to look away. The ease you felt as you stood and did the dishes, fits of laughter and smiles. All fuelling your thoughts, yet it had been so long and you questioned whether you were caught in a whirlwind. Yet, when he had offered you a hand to mount your steed earlier today and you felt his large hand rest upon your thigh, you had instinctively lowered your hand to his, drawing his smouldering eyes to yours. You withdrew your hand almost instantly, as if caught out, but you had felt the connection. Flustered, you had barely been able to speak, fumbling a quick excuse before escaping the farm and galloping hard. The farm was quiet by the time you returned, with Clint in town and the last riders and stable hands drifting away. A red glow formed in the sky as the sun began to disappear. After returning Wildfire to his stable, you walk across the farmyard courtyard, towards the hay barn, your brown boots echoing on the cobbled floor. Snug, fitted jeans and a white blouse completed your outfit, your skin glistening from your exertion across the countryside. The large door of the barn partially open, you strode purposefully. At the back of the barn, Jake was manoeuvring the heavy bales, using a rope pulley system that hung from the barn ceiling, stacking them high upon one another. For a second he did not see you, allowing you to watch him pull on the rope, lifting a bale with ease. You cough to catch his attention. Turning to face you, his eyes instantly swallow you up, causing you to gulp as you feel his eyes upon you. “Sneaking up on me?” he teases with a broadening smile, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Hello Jake,” your respond, conscious of your need to control the conversation. “It’s a hot one out there,” he answers, your eyes drawn as he steps closer. Instantly, you feel your heartbeat increase, a deep breath slipping from your lips. “Look Jake, I don’t really know how to say this but,” you begin, before pausing, the words increasingly hard to say out loud. “Are you okay?” he asks as you feel the heat growing in your cheeks. “It’s probably just me, but you know all your help has been so appreciated,” you stumble, feeling his eyes upon you. “Okay?” he answers, quizzically. “I am flattered by your attention but I -” you spurt nervously. “You what? You mean earlier?” he questions. “I’m a married woman, old enough… well, to be -” you splutter, your eyes noticing his dark stubble that adds to his rugged look, his eyes so intense, almost pulling you in uncontrollably. “Is that all you see yourself?” he says confidently, his smile broadening. “Pardon?” you muster, feeling the heat in your cheeks rise as his response throws you. “You are so much more than that,” he responds, canlı bahis stepping towards you, the barn feeling much smaller by the second, his compliments throwing your thoughts into chaos, and adding to the reddening of your cheeks. “Jake ,please,” you stammer with an increasing quiver to your voice, feeling his presence close alongside you. “Don’t tell me you haven’t felt it. Haven’t felt our attraction,” he continues, an ever-growing assurance to his tone that seems years beyond his youth as your bodies become ever closer. The tension feels unbearable, your skin tingling as he places his hand up to your cheek, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, his rough, large palm brushing against your skin, all the while his piercing eyes devouring you. “How long since the accident?” he asks, his eyes intently locked on yours. “I’m sorry,” you respond inquisitively, almost pleadingly, knowing this is leading away from your original intentions but unable to resist. “How long since you have craved to be devoured?” he continues, his tone confident and assured, his words leaving little to the imagination. Despite wanting to resist, his words hit home as you remember back the two and a half years since the accident. God, you loved Clint but you had barely made love since that date, the physical difficulties that you knew emotionally hurt your husband so much. You had comforted him as best you could, orally pleasuring his needs, but you could count on your fingers when you had been truly satisfied. As much as you fought the thought, Jake was touching a nerve, waking a sexual, almost animal urge. “This isn’t right,” you continue, your voice beginning to crack as you struggle to keep focus. You feel your skin tingle as his larger frame dwarfs you. Your heart flutters as his fingertips lightly dance across your soft skin. “Don’t fight it,” he continues, unmoved, unwavering. You feel as though you’re under a spell, as he leans in, his mouth towards your ear whilst an arm wraps around your waist, fingertips caressing your back through the fabric of your blouse, pulling you tight against him. You can feel your breathing deepen as he takes in your sweet perfume and that intoxicates him further, his lips now only millimetres away from your neck. Still you wait, transfixed to the spot as his hand continues to caress your back, fingers gradually tracing along the arch of your spine. Feeling his hot breath tingling against your soft skin, his lips finally touch you, placing gentle butterfly kisses upon your neck, the tip of his tongue tasting your beautiful skin. You gasp, your body shuddering as his lips sensually kiss every inch of your neck, his stubble lightly grazing against your skin as his lips savour your taste. You mind races, logic telling you to stop this now, knowing how wrong you are behaving. But, try as you may, you feel yourself submitting, succumbing to this young man: aach assured touch of his hand and touch of this soft lips against you, eating away at any futile resistance, your heart overcoming your head. You stagger back, resting your body against the wall of stacked hay bales, feeling him press up tightly against you, cocooning your body. You whimper and tilt your neck further, exposing yourself to the sensual feeling of his lips on your skin, and you fractionally part your legs, allowing his hand to slip between, brushing against your tight snug jeans, his touch light yet firm enough to tease through the material. You can feel waves of suppressed desires flood over you, your body suddenly alive with each touch as shivering electric pulses shoot down your spine. You imagine his own excitement growing as he explores your tight body, testosterone pumping through his veins, his heart beating firmly against your chest.

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