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See you later."Andy went back out to the sidewalk, and headed toward the courthouse. He began whistling a merry little tuneless tune.Floyd Lawson was sitting in front of his barber shop, reading his newspaper. Andy slipped into the other end of the bench."Morning, Floyd," Andy said."Morning, Andy," Floyd replied, peering over the top of his paper. "Need a haircut?" Not yet, Floyd. But I will before the wedding. Maybe this afternoon."Floyd put down his newspaper. "That's right. You're getting married... is it tomorrow?"Andy shook his head. "Nope, day after. We've got a wedding rehersal tonight." I love weddings," Floyd sighed.They sat in silence as a dog strolled past them, then flopped down on the sidewalk, and started to lick its genitals.Floyd nodded at the dog. "Sometimes I wish I could do that."Andy grinned. "So why don't you? It's your dog."They both broke out laughing, and Andy stood up. "Got to go, Floyd. See you this afternoon."Floyd was still laughing. "Okay, Andy."As Andy. Any mishap will bring her father’s belt and draw suspicion. And when she finishes she takes whatever opportunities to watch Rick at work, admiring the way he works, how his muscles flex. And when she isn’t able to watch or he is off on an errand, she sits beneath her tree, dreaming about him.On this particular day, Rick is not on the farm. Her father has sent him out on another errand. These errands make it so the family doesn’t have to go to town unless it is really necessary. That is unfortunate because Emily Elizabeth cannot satisfy her needs and Rick isn’t around to fantasize over. So with nothing left to do she takes a nap, waiting for his return. It isn’t long before the girl is awakened from her dreamy sleep by a loud neighing. The barn is large and full of horses and they are usually quiet. But none of the farm hands or her parents is rushing to investigate. Seemingly being the only to hear the horse’s complaint, Emily Elizabeth thinks she better go investigate.She frowns at.
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He had found her center and her thirst and while his attentions exhilarated her lust, it was like a sip of water to a thirsty animal…just enough to entice but not satisfy. The performance on stage had become secondary, almost non-existent, in her psyche. Only his touch, his orchestration of her body in minute detail became the music, the dance, the performance. Then, in one quick moment, he ceased any motion, and felt her contract around him. Every synapse of her body seemed to center in one tiny place, her most forbidden and glorious orifice. She felt as if he moved once more, she would come and she awaited the shudder, melting on the precipice. Still he held her at that place. Quietly, he spoke in his soft and confident tone, almost a whisper. Perhaps, C, ” and he accentuated the syllable of her name to a long harmonic tone, “we should depart, before the crowd and consider... the second act?”She nodded a hollow motion of agreement, not quite realizing that she would have signaled.

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