Harper
I never knew how insatiable farm boys were—in more ways than one—until I met Scott. His stomach is a bottomless pit while we eat, but that makes me more comfortable in a way. I don’t feel like I have to pick and peck at my food like a little bird.
After the picnic under an apple tree, we went inside and had s*x again on his sofa, which ended with us laughing in a tangle of limbs on the floor. We then went to the bedroom and, after an hour or so, had s*x again.
By the time I think I should be getting home, I’m tired, and the sun is starting to set. “This is your fault,” I tell him as he helps me to my car, one of my arms slung over his shoulders.
“Not sorry,” he chuckles.
I give him a tired swat. “You know I’ll be pulling hay out of my hair for a week, right?”
“That’ll just giv
