Fifty Bales of Hay Read Free Page B

love you, Stella.’ She looked down, feeling almost shy in the moment, a soft smile on her pretty pink mouth.
    He set his beer down, turned her around, then pulled her to him, stooping to kiss her and fold her into his arms. Kissing with love, kissing with passion before the giant harvest moon.
    She inclined her mouth invitingly up to his and gasped at the sensuous feeling of his torso pressed against hers. She felt the desires of her body, dormant for so long, rush to life. It was like a spark fused in her brain. Her body drinking in all that she could as she began to kiss her husband with a fierce wanting. Her husband of ten years, a love that had sprung from B&S balls, from Bundaberg Rum and wild circlework in utes, and lazy Saturdays spent lying by rivers. A love sprung from bed sheets rumpled in passionate lovemaking, of laughter rising up from quickies had in hay sheds, on tractors and on the backs of utes when the olds were away. Their history shared, their young country love now rejoined and renewed, the moon as their witness.
    Stella felt her husband’s hands roam further downwards towards the wetness between her legs. His erection was pressing urgently against her thigh. She wanted to prolong the moment, so she pulled away. This moon, this night, was a gift. She wanted to savour it. To tempt her man. To tease him. So that when he had her, she was the prize he had so longed to win.
    ‘Wait. I have something for you.’ She passed the gift to him. Tom opened the box and his jaw dropped when he saw what lay within. The buckle reflecting its silver and gold beauty back to the moonlight. She encouraged him to turn it over and as he read the inscription, she saw emotion well in his eyes.
    He pulled Stella to him and buried his face into her neck. ‘Oh, thank you, baby. It’s brilliant. I love you. So much. Happy tenth anniversary too, babe.’ He held her hand and turned towards the moon. ‘You know, somewhere out in the future when we are old and grey and have grandkids asking to borrow my belt buckle, drink my beer and use my grandpa car, I’ll be saying to you “Happy fiftieth anniversary, Stella darling”. Because I know right at this moment, I’m goin’ to love you forever. You’re my woman.’
    Stella’s expression gave way to tears as she looked into the face of the moon and then looked at the beautiful face of her man. In her heart, she knew what Tom said was true. They would love forever. Eternally.
    She kicked off her boots and turned so Tom could unhook the eyelets of her corset. She folded the garment away from her body, dropping it onto the bleached summertime grasses, revealing her naked body to him. Then she turned to her man and put her arms about his neck. He scooped her up and carried her into the dam. The water lapped at their limbs as they tumbled into the wash of cool brown water, the slide of mud between their toes washed clean with each kick. Together they swam to the middle where the moon pooled in a big yellow melted disc at the dam’s heart. There they kissed, like first-time lovers, deeply, gently, lingeringly, until every nerve ending of each other’s body was alive, almost glowing with electric energies. Entwined, limbs sliding over one another, Tom found footing on a long forgotten boulder and also found his place deep within his wife, sliding her body onto his cock. With relief, he simply held her there, conjoined, both of them drinking in the closeness. As they began to gently move in slow, deeply penetrating pulses, Stella kissed the water from her husband’s hot skin. He tasted of soils, rich with life. He tasted of farm life and of love. And there under the wash of the moon, Stella joined the stars as she cried out with the climax of her life clutching her deep within. Her husband, Tom, journeyed with her and together they both drifted into the ether in a love renewed.
    The next morning, Stella woke to the sound of Ned burbling, ‘Mum, mum, mum, mum,’ in his cot beside