Howl of the Prairie Dog

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She stands looking out over the emptiness that surrounds the cabin. Mile upon mile of it, stretching off into the distance in all directions. But this is her home, the one she had made with her husband Isaac and which they share with her sons, the much-loved product of her twelve year union with the farmer from Minnesota who uprooted her for her comfortable life on her father’s dairy farm and brought her here. It is early morning, the light still unformed, creeping slowly through colours and textures as it settles on the barren landscape. She stands and gazes at the stillness. Somewhere, out there her husband and boys are taking livestock to market. Gone for three days, another will pass before they return.

Behind her, stirring in his sleep, another occupies her bed.

He had arrived the afternoon following the departure of her men folk. A shabby scarecrow who had walked the fifteen miles fro the farm of their nearest neighbours where he had spent two days mending fences and sleeping in the barn. Appearing on the porch, he had startled her – till she saw the eyes that looked out from under the battered hat that had surely been old when Methuselah was a boy. Stubbled and unkempt, he would have been turned out of even the lowest of the bars in town and when he spoke it was with an accent so thick she could scarcely understand his apology nor his request for work.
His name was Josip and he came from somewhere in central Europe she had never heard of until he showed her on the map in the big atlas which, with the King James Bible and encyclopedia of animal husbandry, were the sole items in the family library.

But this was later after she had fed him, allowed him to wash behind the stoop and even found one the razors which Isaac, with his shovel-shaped, Old Testament beard had not used in all their married life. Cleaned and shaved Josip was not at all like Isaac. Wiry and strongly muscled from a year spent tramping between the farms where he spent his days in manual labour in return for a bed in the barn and three squares, he was the physical opposite of the bulky Issac. His face, though not handsome, was tanned and aquiline, the sharpness alleviated by a full-lipped mouth that was quick to smile. And those eyes.

In his halting English he told her how he had left home three years before, making his way via the Chicago stockyards out to the prairies, where even the relatively paltry cost of land had proved beyond him.

This he told her, as that evening, the firewood chopped and the horses fed, he ate the meal she cooked. She had watched him as he ate and spoke, smiling inwardly at the gaziantep escort reklamları hunger that occasionally got the better of his good manners, his courtesy and his humor.

Food eaten, it was then she had fetched the atlas and watched as he found the relevant page, tracing with his finger till he located what he wanted, jabbing triumphantly at the small dot that was his home. He had performed an impromptu dance of celebration, some kind of polka, during which he took her arm and whirled her around unselfconsciously.

What made her catch his hand and place it against her breast she could not have said. His eyes locked hers with an expression she had never seen on Isaac’s large, bearded face. She had pulled him closer, encouraging his other hand to follow its partner. His smile was a wondrous mixture of innocence and desire, and suddenly her universe shrank until that smile and all it implied was the sum of it.

Haltingly he had begun unbutton her dress, her heat fluttering as he did so, hands held out to facilitate him. As her dress dropped to the floor she reached forward, unbuckling the clasp of the heavy belt that secured his threadbare pants.

Her physical relations with Isaac had never been like this. These were uncharted waters and her navigator was a young man with little English from a land she had never heard of.
As his pants fell to the floor and he stepped out of them she had instinctively reached forward to the swelling they revealed, pulling it from his equally shabby underwear.

Josip had stopped in his undressing of her and looked down as, gently she stroked his manhood, as if seeing one for the first time, which, in a sense she was. How she marvelled as it swelled, the top purpling under her fingers. She had seldom seen Isaac’s, so infrequently did he undress entirely. And he had never wanted her to do this. Josip’s breath was becoming shallower. She wanted him to continue undressing her but likewise she did not want to stop what she was doing. Fascination had been added to desire as she watched the expression on his face, as it began to contort, despite his best efforts to smile at her.

She began to rub harder, delighted by the moisture that had begun to leak from the end. Josip now had one hand on her shoulder to steady himself. He had begun to murmur in his own language, words which from their tone she knew to be endearments. Instinctively she increased her friction until with a gasp Josip erupted in a torrent of something she had never seen before. A small gasp escaped her own lips – a mixture of surprise and delight at the substance which had sprayed her own underwear and was now trickling over her fingers.

She was aware of Josip’s repeated ‘thank you, thank you’ as she allowed herself to revel in the phenomenon. Gazing down she noticed how his member was still hard in her hand. Revelation was following revelation.

Letting go, she began to strip off her remaining clothes, feeling a desire to be naked she had never felt before. When she had finished she had a momentary feeling of shame as she stood before him, revealed in a way that her husband had never enjoyed, nor perhaps, had ever wanted to.

He had come to her then, placing his hands lightly on her hips, and gently pushing his head forward till his lips touched hers. Their mouths grazed, then he kissed her, deeply and with the an intensity that literally took her breath away. Breaking off, he led her to the large bedstead that stood, in a curtained alcove at the rear of the room.

As they walked he peeled off his heavy workshirt, stopping briefly to drape it over a chair back. The simple gesture of neatness moved her almost more than she could bear.

He had climbed onto the bed, beckoning to her to follow which she did, stretching next to him, as he gazed down at her body. Like hers it had been honed from years of hard physical work. But another physical aspect had been ignored, and oh how much she now realised this.

He had nuzzled her breasts, tracing the outline of her nipples with his tongue, smiling at her as her expression had changed much as his had done earlier. One hand had dipped between her thighs, gently stroking her furry mound then breaking off to allow the fingertips to slide along the inside of her legs. She began to moan, not really understanding her reactions or indeed what was happening to her body. She felt wetness in her most private place and then, to her amazement his head was there and his tongue was licking around its edges. This was truly the discovery of a new world. A strange world, as different as the one she knew as Isaac was from Josip.

Josip , the stranger, whose tongue even now was thrusting inside her, making her whole body quiver with something she had never felt before, nor dreamed it was possible to feel.
As his tongue continued its journey, she felt something else – a finger rubbing at the small mound at the top of her opening, a place she had scarcely known existed. It felt as if a new part of her had been activated, like the electric light she had seen demonstrated in Lincoln one time.

As Josip’s tongue and finger worked at her in delicious unison she could not help but wonder at how his manhood was large once more. In the distance a prairie dog howled but its cry went unheeded as the inexplicable feelings that were consuming her began to peak. Clutching the bedsheets with one hand while the fingers of the other twined in Josip’s thick, springy hair, she felt herself carried off on a wave. Pleasure did not and could not describe it adequately. This was something more, something undreamed of, unhinted at in all the thirty-three years of her life. As Josip buried his face between her thighs she looked down at the top of his head and wondered if any other woman alive had experienced this.

Her climax over, she had no wish to dislodge her lover from his position, but he raised his head, his lips moist and sticky. Smiling, he leaned forward to kiss her.The taste on her lips was, she knew, a taste of those other lips and all that lay within and which had been released for the first time.

Her eyes fixed on his still erect member and she found herself wanting it to fill the void left so recently by Josip’s tongue. Reaching down she guided him towards her opening, murmuring endearments of her own now. She gasped as he eased himself inside her. Raising himself on his hips he pushed a little deeper, smiling down at her, murmering again, the words slipping from his lips like whispered kisses.

She locked herself around him, again performing actions unknown in her couplings with Isaac which had been at best perfunctory and never remotely connected with pleasure, at least on her part.

Gently but insistently his movement took on a rhythm and hers with it. Slowly, as she clasped his back and neck, those same glorious feelings began to return as she felt his member thickening and pulsing inside her.

Small sounds escaped her throat, indeterminate, mewling noises, she was hardly aware of making. Above her Josip gasped , his breath quickening once more. She imagined the top of his member inside her beginning to leak as it did before the explosion that would release the streams of that marvellous fluid, the nature of which she had hitherto been ignorant.

Bucking now beneath him, she sought to hasten the moment as her own pleasure grew and demanded its own release. As her second climax peaked she screamed the unfamiliar name of the stranger.

Inside her Josip spasmed twice as his fluid jetted into her. He muttered just two words – ‘my lady’ – before his body relaxed onto hers.

She gazes out into the vastness of the prairie. Soon her husband and sons will return. But not yet. Not yet. That is a time still distant and which at this moment has no meaning for her.

Somewhere the prairie dog howled in the lonely stillness.

But in her heart a different music is playing.

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