Hunger Pangs

Garth, our summer help, and I were struggling with a newborn calf. It was proving to be a pain to get him on his feet and help him stumble towards his mother to get some milk. The straw on the cement floor was wet from the calf’s birthing. It wasn’t exactly easy dealing with a slippery floor and a fifty-pound bundle of bone and wet hair that didn’t exactly want to cooperate with us.

Garth and I stumbled as well, and . . .

It was one of those moments. Something that never happens. In the Hallmark movies, maybe, but not for me. Garth caught me. I could feel his hands sliding across my back.

I grew up on a ranch, home schooled with little opportunity for dating. At college, I concentrated on my studies, never accepting any invitations for dates for pizza, movies, or anything else. I knew things, had heard and talked about things, but I had never even held hands with a guy. Now, here I was in Garth’s strong arms.

My heart pounded.

Until this moment, I had never felt any sexual attraction towards him, or wondered whether he felt any kind of attraction to me—at least, not consciously. But the look in his eyes was unmistakable. This moment was a surprise. I felt things happening in me that I had felt only at night, between the bedsheets, before falling asleep. My thoughts had never included Garth. Now, my boobs pressed into his chest. Even more thrilling, I could sense how he enjoyed having me in his arms.

The thought came so suddenly that I didn’t know what to do with it: I so badly wanted him to thrust his pelvis hard against me. I was embarrassed to even think the word, but . . . I wanted him to hump me. I didn’t know much, but I did know I could make him quite happy if he did that.

“I want to kiss you, Sheila,” he said quietly. “May I?”

“I’d very much like that,” I breathed. Had I stopped there, there might have been some sweet moments. But I didn’t stop. “Shove my pants down, pick me up, and thrust yourself into me.”

WHAT?!

We both knew that shouldn’t happen. A stolen kiss? Maybe.

I turned away, hand to my mouth, ashamed of what I’d just blurted out. Awkward moments of silence followed. No kiss, only a sudden breeze that chilled my boobs. Garth walked out the barn door.

We avoided each other the rest of the day, and found excuses to not speak to each other, at least until dinner, when we had to keep up appearances. But like any mother would, mine noticed something.

“What’s up with you and Garth?” she asked me privately later in the evening. “The two of you seemed to be getting along so well. You talked to each other at the dinner table. To me. To your father. Now, it’s like there’s a wall of ice between the two of you.”

I reddened with shame but said nothing.

“Has one of you developed romantic feelings, but the other is not reciprocating? Has Garth . . .” There was painful silence while she searched for words. “Has Garth done something to you? He’s a good worker, and we can’t afford to let him go, but if he’s done—”

“No,” I cut her off. “No, it’s not like that at all.”

I told my mom everything: how I ended up in Garth’s arms by accident. How he asked to kiss me. How very much I wanted it.

“Oh, Mom. One moment, it was so good. Then I opened my big mouth and told him I wanted him to make love to me. I immediately regretted saying it. I didn’t know what to do or say, other than hurry away. I’m pretty sure it shocked Garth as well. What do I do? I do have feelings for him. I want to be his wife. I’m afraid I’ve blown any chances with him.”

“The two of us need to talk with your father, at least to let him know he doesn’t need to let Garth go. Perhaps the three of us will find a way to get past all this and melt the ice between you and him.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

TAs time sped by, the rift of awkwardness between Garth and me healed over. It was about two years after the first incident that the summer weather facilitated a picnic lunch down at the creek. There in the shade, we had an opportunity to open up to each other. Garth had been struggling with the desire to do exactly what I’d suggested that first day, and had kept his distance to avoid it. That talk led to the eventual realization that we wanted to join our lives together.

Saying goodbye was hard as I returned to college. But at least I had the memory of a very long and very passionate kiss to keep my company. And what a kiss it had been—holding each other so close, his hands pressed deeply into my ass. When we broke off the embrace, I’d stepped back a bit. My thin blouse made it easy to notice the arousal displayed by my nipples, and I had felt his excited state.

That ache for each other easily lasted until I finished school, and we could finally be together.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The closed barn door protected us from the chill outside. Scented candles lit the space inside. A bed stood silently, patiently, confident it could endure the load about to be thrust upon it.

Garth and I stood face to face, each sensing the other’s very high state of arousal.

“I want to kiss you,” he said—a familiar request.

In the moment of silence, there seemed to be nothing but two pounding hearts, and boobs pressed into chest, skin on skin.

“May I?”

“I’d very much like that.” This time, it was appropriate to continue. “When you get tired of that, throw me on that bed.”

The rest was a blur. A hand groped at an ass. A hungry traveler sought out a very private entrance to an exclusive banquet prepared for two. The door opened, allowing passage into a narrow corridor. The gracious host accepted the guest’s gift. Wine poured. Hunger pangs abated.