In the dance hall, the lights are dim amber as you are walking back to your seat after a few fast dances. This scene is so familiar to me now, yet it never gets old. I've got it bad for you, yet you don't have a clue.

As I sit at the rail, I order up a Courvoisier cognac to give me strength, and watch your every move intensely. Your eyes are so deep and sparkling with the joy of the dance. How I wish they sparkled for me! Your hair is so soft, yet hangs so straight, like long, pin-straight strands of auburn gold silk. Not a wave to be seen, till you move and it flies with the wind, or with the joy in your heart, as you dance so gracefully. I long so to feel that silk brushing ever so lightly against my hand, my face, my body, my everything.

Your lips are so fine and delicate, with a light flesh-pink lipstick, giving your face the final touch of being unmistakably, so delicately feminine. Yet it is the blush of your skin, with its peerless perfection, that takes my breath away and makes me long to hold your face to my chest every time you seem to notice me looking at you.

Your body is no less perfect than your face; your large, yet deliciously delicate breasts, standing proud, clearly pushing into the fabric of your blouse. Your hips are so shapely, your legs toned from sports, perhaps, or frequent visits to the gym.

When the first set finishes, you approach the rail with an order for you and the other girls with you at your table. Immediately, I start to feel my heart beat faster. I take in your lips, so made for mine: moist, wet and softly tinted. Your fine, blonde-auburn hair cascades down the sides of your face, waves now becoming apparent. As you sit to make and wait for your order, your legs cross in such a naturally erotic pose. You sit smiling, shifting in your seat, and I am transfixed. When the barkeep arrives and you order, your voice makes me dizzy. It is so light, he has to lean in to be sure he got the order right. He winks, and says, “Yes Ma'am, coming right up!” clearly and politely acknowledging your gender and the attention-grabbing presence you exude, without seeming to try.

I have never felt like this... till you. So excited am I, by just your appearance, and your classy, yet subtly erotic gestures; the finger brought to your lips, as if pursed to kiss, sends chills up my spine. The way you tilt your head in speaking, reveals a porcelain smooth and vulnerable neck. You are teasing my imagination to hunger. I swear it.

With my heart racing, a slow dance just beginning, I rush to your side. Looking you straight in the eyes, so deeply I almost fall in, and risking it all without even thinking, I ask in my deep, bass voice, “Would you care to dance with a country gentleman?”
For so long I have wanted to do this. For so long your mere presence has overwhelmed me at these dances. This time I barely know what I am saying, what my body is doing.

You look back into my eyes, reaching out your hand, as you quickly glance back at the other girls at your table and say to them, “It worked! Can one of you please go get our drinks?”

You rise straight to my arms. I enfold you within them, as if I have known you forever. We are acting on instinct alone. As I carry you across the floor, our bodies seem made for each other, molded like two hands in prayer. All my senses are alive and on fire with passion, and I can’t even seem to vocalize what I am thinking. Your hair smells so fresh and clean, the scent of your skin is so singularly yours and so excitingly fresh. I am as excited by you as I have ever been about any woman. I need you. I am drunk with you. I must have you.

As the song plays softly now, you look up to me and say, “Hey there, cowboy, I have been waiting for you to ask me to dance all evening. What took you so long?”

I am on the spot, but tell the truth as best I can. I hold your arms as you place your hands on my chest to my delight and say, “Well, sweet thang, I’m just a hired hand on this old farm and ranch here, and I never thought you’d ever accept.”

You reply in astonished surprise, “and I suppose I look like a city slicker in these boots, and this denim skirt? C’mon, handsome, let me show you a thing or two about me!”
Then you tell me not to move, run to the band and say something to the ‘harp’ player, who nods and smiles with a twitch of his mouth, and you return to me beaming.

The music soon stops, and the lead singer says, “I have a special request here from a sweet lil’ Miss, for Bill Monroe’s “Kentucky Waltz.”

You are beaming, and ask me, “Do you know how to waltz, big guy?”

“Why, no, I don’t suppose I do” I admit.

“Then I’m going to teach ya’ll how to do it then!”

To be honest about this here moment, if I wasn’t in love with you before that lesson, I sure am by its end! Or at least something very close to it! The band plays in sweet blue-grass tones, and I follow your lead as you whisper, “…and a one-two-three, one-two-three…” moving your feet in a kind of rectangle.

The singer begins the text I know so well. "We were waltzing that night in Kentucky..." and we spin to lyrics about a harvest moon, about luck and longing, about smiles and embraces.

By the time it is over, I lean in and kiss your lips sweetly. You respond in kind, encouraging me. Your lovely breast is already heaving, and I know you find me to your liking. As much as my mind says, 'This can’t be,' my intuition says, 'It is.' We are both soaking each other up, as we seem so recklessly ready to throw ourselves into each other.

You ask me my name, and I say, “Will,” and you say:

“I’m Suzannah Jo, but my friends call me ‘Suzy Jo.’”

I look into your smiling face and say, “Well I’ll be! I would have thought they’d have called you ‘sunshine’ or ‘princess!’”

You look up at me with the sincerest, most melting eyes, and say, “Aw Will! That’s so sweet!” Then you hold back a bit and ask rhetorically, “You sure you’re a hired hand... and not just a lady’s man with that sweet talk?”

You bring me to the table you and your friends usually sit at, and introduce me to your friends, and they all say little things like, “If you all don’t take to Suzy Jo, you can take me any time, honey,” and I find them all so happy for you, knowing somehow that there was just about no chance that would happen! I begin to walk with a bit of a hop in my step. First time that ever happened.

We start to walk away, almost aimlessly, when I suddenly ask with my newly gained confidence if you would like to walk in the moonlight. You say in a voice so sweet it melts me, “Why I would love to handsome!”

You grab your sweater, and as I take you by the hand, we step outside to an unpaved path. It runs up to a recently harvested field with a lonely barn in it. Big rolls of wheat are spread out in the field, waiting for the next morning’s job of loading them up on hay wagons.

“I can feel the sweat already,” I tell you, as you see me looking at them instead of you. But I am drawn back to you as we stroll down the path, when you say that you were just imagining how hard the work must be. I ask if you have ever lived on a farm and you tell me you did as a kid, but a twister ended all of that. Your head drops, and I feel badly that I brought it up, yet a few hugs and glances at the harvest moon with my arms around you from behind, and I am becoming yours very quickly.

I am endeared to you now, in a different way than most men are with women in the beginning. I was shy with girls, and yet you are being sweet to me, and somehow telling me it is okay if I am rushing things when I kiss you and hold you. Oh I like you!

Everyone, including your friends, has left for home, I guess. You take my hand and look right at me and say, “Please look at me,” so sweetly, I just have to. You are such a dream. If you were the ugly duckling, I would fall for you using that approach. But together with your beauty, you have me. I know you have me, for good.

Illuminated by the moonlit night, I look down at your eyes. They are light brown-hazel, and you really do have the prettiest face of any girl who has ever spoken this way to me.

“Is this your first time at the dance?” you ask, knowing I have come many times and had my eye on you. I never asked myself if you might have noticed me. Innocence is funny like that.

“Well, it is the first time in months anyway, that I have come here with a purpose and followed through with it,” smiling I am so proud of myself.

“Oh, okay! Then you are not the complete rookie I thought you were…!” you answer coyly.

“Darlin’,” I reply, “I’m afraid I am. But I did come back this week, determined to do whatever it took to meet you.”

“Oh, Will!” you say in the moonlight, tears now welling up in your eyes, “Why, that’s why I came too, and even got nervy and went and got the drinks this week, instead of one of my friends.”

Then you kiss me again with a passion I have never felt in any woman’s lips and arms, and I respond with the biggest, hottest kiss I think I have ever given any woman myself. The feel of your breasts against me, and the heat of our embrace gets me all short of breath, and I have to break the kiss. I hold your head now and bring you to me, knowing I am getting aroused, and hope you might be.

So, my heart leaps as your hand reaches to where my erection is…

”Well, now then,” you say, “now maybe we can dance without making a scene.”

“I guess so,” I admit with a smirk. “That thing seems to have a mind of its own sometimes," I say with a silly smirk. You laugh.

“We’ll see about that! Now let’s see what’s in that old barn, you handsome, sweet talkin’ guy, you!”

I smile at your obvious delight in finding out I am who I am…or at least I want to think so.

I am really impressed with more than your face, as you can wiggle, and snuggle up like an angel, as we speed up on that path. I am under your spell, as you can tell from my growing erection. I wonder what you must be feeling, but I am not exactly taking your hand and dragging you down the path to the lonely barn. I open the door and light a kerosene lamp.

When I finish, you look up at me and give me a hungry kiss, right there in the glow. I offer with a gesture of my eyes to take you to the beautiful hayloft with a vent door, just up a fairly short ladder. We ascend. You lead the way bravely, your legs tantalizing me again, so firm and sexy in your boots, and now, with your equally strong thighs showing from behind. I don’t know how I could ever match the exquisite sight I have of your ass, when you take your last step to the loft. Somehow, fluffy white cottons hit me like something pricey from Victoria’s.

When we reach the top, we recline in the hay, so soft, yet firm, and with the loft door partly open to let in the moonlight, I take you in my arms and kiss you again. Something in you makes you say yes, and we are out of breath in a few seconds.

I am holding my arm around you, and whispering in your ear, as if we have known each other for years. You seem so relaxed with me, and I am thrilled. Your passionate response and affirmative moaning leads me to kiss you more deeply, running my fingers through your hair. It is so lovely to the touch, falling in little golden-auburn waves down to your shoulders and slightly down your back. It smells so sweet, I am beginning to get really turned on, and my nerves are on edge.

Your freely giving yourself to me, gives me the confidence I need to move on. My hands seem to be everywhere, and so are yours. This is now something we both want and we know it.

Your breasts are ready to be released, and I cannot help myself but spring them free. They are glorious in the moonlight. I have never seen breasts so beautiful, with their nipples pouted and pointed up toward their luscious erotic release into bliss. Your skin is like marble, just as your neck was in the dance hall. I lurch at them, and before I even place my lips on them, you are thrusting them up to me. You are primal now too. The nipples are so strawberry red with heat, I cannot hold off, and begin to roll one between my lips, while I roll the other between two of my fingers, gently tugging them in slightly different ways.

You utter a bit roughly, "Oh yes! Take them baby! Take them!"

I rotate back and forth, and you begin to shudder, as you have a small, but perceptible orgasm for me, before I even leave your breasts.

"Oh, thank you darling," I say again and again. I feel so wanted now. I begin to lift your breasts to my mouth and massage them with my lips and with my hands. I feel as if my mother gave me hands just for this moment.

As I do, you are at work removing your panties beneath me, and freeing my fiery erection from its constraints. You want me, and I can feel it. You know I can feel it too, as my skin is hot and feverish to what seem like your cold hands. I make sure this is what you want, by suddenly kneeling up before you, my erection glowing in the moonlight right before you, to see and relish... you know it is for you, all for you.

"Oh baby! All that for me?"

"Yes gorgeous, just for you. Do with it what you may." You immediately slide a hand up and pull it over to yourself. It is so hard, I almost can't believe it is just my cock and not a cucumber--it is as hard as one, if not harder. Your tongue licks it like the scoop on an ice cream cone, your hands caress it on both sides, and you hold it so reverently, your hands now shake a little with excitement.

I think, 'I love that. I love that!'

You stab the head with your tongue, and then lick it firmly, then softly with a flat tongue. I am so hot that just that, aches referral ache-pain-pleasure to my prostate. I almost can't stand it. Tears are running down my cheeks as I have never known this before.

"Yes, darling," I say to you, as you look up to me with puppy-dog eyes, "you may have it as your own!"

Giggling with bliss, you girlishly attack it, knocking me onto my back in the hay.

Springing it, pulling it, sucking it, licking it; then softly passing me between your soft lips, over your satin tongue, gurgling suddenly, and I think I am losing my mind - yet you do not stop until I am firing up like a rocket! I am proud you are blissfully watching me fire, it seems, everywhere.

Like lightning, you are turned round and over my tummy, licking up my mess as if it is caviar, a leg on either side of my shoulders, and your dress now over my face, not really thinking perhaps, that you are a bit too close to my mouth for your own safety. I suddenly lose all real and feigned gentlemanliness, and lift your dress to see the most beautiful ass and pussy I have ever had the joy to behold. All the photos in all the magazines in the world could do this view no justice, I think. Your sight, your scent, your wet, creamy feel to my tongue, that gets you jumping up with a sudden scream that you immediately muffle, then lowering yourself for your torture to my lips and naughty tongue, holding me in heaven.

You are so creamy, you add a clicking sound to my every inguinal thrust. You become a natural synopsis of sensations, all in tune with each other, releasing moans, glottal stops, hisses of pleasure and oh , Oh, Oh! Oooohhhhh! And you nearly suffocate me with your orgasm, and as it subsides momentarily, you look back at me and say in a comical voice, "Are you quite finished, you naughty boy?"and smack back at my ribs as if to emphasize your point. As you begin to lift off my face, I can clearly see how highly swollen your mons is, how stiff your clit, how swollen your labia, how open your love canal, all covered again with your cum releases I thought I had swallowed up.

Then, with strength I barely knew I had, I prop up my legs and tumble you over onto the hay stack again, hovering over you menacingly in a split second. You are still out of breath, your breasts heaving in your desperate attempt to get enough oxygen to continue. I smile like a hero victorious in battle, but knowing that for the first time in my life, I am joined with a woman, not just any woman, but this precious sacred harlot, calling my name with every pore of your body and soul. Without fear, you reach your loving arms up to me, and smiling back, pulling me to your lips, I have no resistance, and we kiss till our lips are almost raw, our tears of joy, intermingling like two great rivers.

As we look into each others eyes, you say as if you have known me forever, "Make love to me baby. Make love to me, please..."

I respond, "Oh please love my best, darling!" If ever I wanted a victory in life, it was now. I would give her the best of my masculinity. What else do I have really? In hopeful, heart-felt valor, we both begin to prepare to make love to each other, each knowing our very lives and sanity are at stake. We are both scared to death, but fearless of each other; will this be a consummation or some meaningless mechanical act?

We are both in wonder, both in hope, both giving our faith to each other, living sacrifices to our everlasting fusion in ecstasies. I think, “Hell, it’s risky, but what is my life for but to risk it all with a sultry angel like this?” I kiss you passionately, take my erect prize fighter in my hand, and aim it to your fecundity.

You look up at me and smile lovingly, “Love me now, baby!”

My shaft enters your canal like a sword in its sheath. Your wetness alone allows me passage, as the tightness of your vagina and your youthful muscle-tone could stop me cold if you were unwilling. It takes several pushes before you can take me in. As you struggle to accommodate me, you are giggling, and grunting “ugh!” and I am in love because you are so willing.

We begin the dance of our love-play, each so anxious to know the other, but only a few full pushes and pulls shows us amply that it is as if we were made for each other. That revelation somehow encircles us, and we begin to rock in rhythm so pleasurable and mutually affirming, we are thrilled.

"Harder baby! Harder!" you urge your knight onward. Your heat, your wetness coats me, your tightness, the natural counterbalance to our eagerness, or we’d be over in a minute.

“Oh, I have never known a woman like you!” I say,

“Nor I a man like you, lover boy!” We both chuckle a little, and agree to get on with it.

You begin to thrust up with abandon now, as I rush wildly into the wilderness of your love potions, again and again, when suddenly, your breathing is short and heavy, and you begin to squeeze me with orgasmic pulses, better than any hand could, bringing me with you to the ecstasy we have won. It seems like we are filling the barn with our cries of orgasmic pleasure, when you call my name, and I tell you, “I love you angel!”

Your reaction is so sudden and full, you smile broadly, barely catching your breath and all, and say, “Oh baby, I thought you would never say that to me!” You hasten to embrace me, and pull me down to you while I am still in you, spent. We kiss again in celebration. I don’t remember how long, but I just know I woke up there too.

As my eyes open with the call to dawn of the rooster, the loft is lighting up a gentle flesh, as I can’t take my eyes from you. I just can’t end it by waking up my angel, as I look out the loft door of this prairie barn and see the sun and moon side by side. I smile, quickly look back at you, and think of Neil Diamond’s words, “you are the sun, I am the moon, you are the words, I am the tune, play me.” I know you were made for me, and I shall never give you up.

[A thank you for editing assistance goes to the incomparable BethanyFrasier.]