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In heat

Her laughter broke the silence. It was a high pitched nervous laughter and no sooner had it escaped her than she clapped both her hands over her mouth to cover up her inappropriate outburst. This was no laughing matter and from the stern look her husband was giving her it seemed he didn’t think so either.
It was only the beginning of the summer season but already the heat of the sun had burned most of their and the neighboring village’s crops and the communal well had come close to running completely dry. Outside her and her husband’s little stone house a grey donkey and a handful of milking-goats were grazing but they had been given the last of the hay weeks ago and the few remaining strands of grass that still grew there hadn’t looked green in days. A drought was imminent and the general outlook on the future was ominous. And she was laughing. Very much against her will, but still, he had heard it and now he was staring hard at her from his entrance through the house’s only door.
“Mary”, her husband said. “I will not pretend to find your reason, whatever it may be, for interrupting my work on the village well at a time like this appropriate in any way but you have been my wife for many years now and I have come to trust that you would not disturb me without a good cause. Therefore, when I come rushing home to you I do not appreciate being met by the fitful giggles of an irrepressible girl! Speak up, wife!”
Mary swallowed down the slimy lump of fear and nerves in her throat. Their marriage had been an arranged one and she had found herself bound to this man by tradition and convenience at the tender age of 13, but even though he was 20 years her senior and head of their village council, he had always been fair with her and she had come to, if not enjoy, then at least endure her life as his wife. They slept in separate beds due to her still being a virgin and he had never once tried to force his will on her, to have her as a man is always free to have his wife.
And that was why she was laughing, why she was giggling to the point of choking on her own nervousness and why she had sent for him during his work hours. She had been dizzy and nauseous for several weeks already and even though she had been blaming it on the summer heat the truth had now become impossible for her to ignore. Her chest and feet had been feeling swollen and sore and when she discovered that she’d stopped bleeding in accordance with the moon she knew what was happening to her body and she knew she had to tell him. She swallowed dryly and cleared her throat and forced her eyes to look directly at his scowling face.

“Joseph”, she said. “I’m pregnant”.


I hated walking home in rush hour traffic. Endless streams of cars honking and people whizzing past me way too fast for comfort. I stopped at a red light along with a clump of people and I sighed, wanting to just get home so I could kick off my boots and curl into bed with the latest crossword puzzles. And then suddenly something caught my eye. A face, one which stood out in the crowd. A girl. I froze and looked at her. She was… beautiful. Not in a conventional way, she had a high forehead and a substantial nose but there was something about her that made it impossible to avert my gaze from her. Her hair was long and a golden pale yellow that framed her face and fell in ringlets down her shoulders before coming to rest on her chest, bracketing the band logo on her shirt. Suddenly, as if sensing me staring, she turned her head and looked directly at me and I felt my entire body flash hot and my face blushed, burning, as our eyes met. Hers were light greenish blue with a darker circle around the iris and her lashes were black and slightly curved. She smiled and tossed her hair, the light catching it and sending glints of copper along the strands. She held my gaze.

Enthralled I moved closer and as I did so she moved towards me as well. My heart was pounding, loud in my ears and hard against my chest as I neared her. As her smile widened she wrinkled her nose and showed a neat row of small teeth and I noticed that she had a small birthmark on her right cheek, like a fleck of dirt on the otherwise so light and fair skin. She was so beautiful. We were now standing close, our toes almost touching, and she leaned forward until our faces were only inches apart.

“My”, she said. “You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

I blushed even harder and stuttered something unintelligible. She cocked her head to one side and winked at me, obviously pleased with my flustered appearance.

“What’s your name?” I asked, too dumbstruck to think of anything else to say.

“You”, she answered.

“Me, what?” I said, feeling like a moron.

She tossed her head back and laughed.

“My name is You”, she said. “Y-O-U”. She winked again and coquettishly bit her lower lip. “Kiss me”.

She moved closer still and I felt myself leaning in towards her, almost as if someone was pushing me from behind. Our bodies pressed together and a low moan escaped me.

“You’re so beautiful”, I gasped and her face fogged over. I closed my eyes and my lips parted slightly and met the cold glass of the mirror.

Kiss me

One of the rudest things you can do is kiss me passionately. I don’t do passion. And don’t even think about pressing me against a wall, making demands with your lips. This is not sexy nor is it pleasing in any way. Who the hell are you to come nibbling and nudging?

And why is it that you must entangle your fingers in my hair and pull it? Seriously, pulling my hair? Do you want to kiss me or fight me?

And stop pushing your knee against my crotch! I’m not an assailant, nor a dog, and I do not nourish secret wishes to be rocked on your lap. Just stop it.

And will you stop staring at me?! Close your goddamn eyes, this isn’t a moment you want to remember seeing nothing but the indistinct bridge of my nose. By rule of kissing, you don’t look at each other. I already know what you look like, hence me agreeing to kiss you, and even though dilated pupils was a big hit during the late 1700th century, I don’t need to look into your eyes to know you want me.

Because your palms are sweating. Don’t try and wipe them off on my shirt, that’s fucking gross! Are you trying to feel me up or use me as a napkin? Because honestly, I can’t tell the difference!

And will you stop breathing so damn hard through your nose? See, this is why we need to kiss slowly, because believe it or not, there is nothing arousing about your harsh ”passionate” buffalo snorting.

You can let go of my head now, I’m not a puppet you need to steer. Just relax, there we go. See, isn’t this a lot nicer? Our bodies melting against each other, our tongues barely gently touching. Just hold me and let my hands do the wandering. You know, when I’m at ease like this, I almost forget what a vile and bacteria riddled cesspool your mouth is. It’s so sweet. Now I can feel my knees go weak. Your hair is so soft.

Don’t stop..

Are you licking my tonsils?!