It’s Better to
By Dominick May
The sun glistened off his bare chest as he worked to throw the bales onto the trailer. His western-style hat clung to his head, with a red tie pulling back his long black hair. As he turned to toss on another bale, his back rippled with lean muscles.
Once the men got the bales into the barn, they started to head to the worker’s housing. The man I was eyeing, name was Elvis. I intercepted his path as he was a little behind the others.
Placing my hand on his back. He turned and slid his arm around my waist. My sundress was thin, and I could feel his strong hands slid down. At this point I pulled him behind the bales.
His head bent down and took my lips to his. His warm body pressed to mine and he breathed in my needs. He knew, and that was why he lagged behind from the crew.
We had to be quick for what we wanted. As the others would notice his absence soon.
Once we were done, he quickly headed back to the others. He was a fool, as most men were. Tomorrow, I would have the foreman let him go from the work, and tell him that my husband didn’t like the look I was giving him.
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