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Laura had lived in the hills all of her life. As she grew up, she had seen Campbell, the local farmer’s son, turn from a serious, skinny rake of a boy into a strong, silent man, dark-haired and so gorgeous that she couldn’t help herself sneaking hungry looks at him, the way his arm muscles tensed as he hauled bales, or carried sacks of grain to the barns, the defined shape of his backside through the shabby old moleskin breeches he wore in the fields.

There was no way of telling what was going on behind that stony, impassive expression. The shadow of a frown often passed over his face as he walked past the women of the village, and Laura was careful to keep her head down, not wanting to incur a hostile look thrown from his penetratingly dark eyes. Other girls giggled sometimes, deliberately tried to catch his eyes, to rile him up, but she stayed silent and unnoticed.

At night, alone in her bed, sometimes she’d imagine him kissing her, his fingers stroking her face and grasping her hair to pull her closer to him, and then pulling her down, touching her breasts, her pussy, everywhere, and she’d find some new feeling take over, her fingers were drawn to her wet, swollen cunt and she’d stroke and press herself there until a shock of feeling came over her and she could finally fall asleep.

Every day, when her work was done, she would run to the top of the hill overlooking Campbell’s fields, and sit there in amongst the gorse and heather, a small lone inconspicuous figure, watching him work the land. She tried to stop, to carry on with her life without him, saddened by her certainty that he would never take anyone, let alone her, to be his lover or his wife.

His parents had both died the previous winter, a hard, cold and protracted winter that many of the older villagers had not survived. The land too had suffered and it seemed harder than ever to draw a living from it. Laura knew too, how hard life could be, the youngest daughter of a family of boys, who always seemed to get to the food before she did. She worked hard, keeping their family home and smallholding in the best condition she could, but the consoling thought that some day she might meet a husband and raise herself into a better life seemed to fade with every season.


The day had come. Walking to the edge of the rocks on the river bank, Laura felt a strange sense of freedom and purity, knowing that she would be gone, never having known him.

But that’s where the story changes. It would have to be this evening that their lives met. She had said her final sorry and her mind was set on her chosen course of action, when she saw him on the other side of the river. But it was too late to stop now, and in a way, it just made it the easier, knowing that he had no idea why this unknown girl was falling. She stepped off the edge, into the cold dark water.

Hitting her with a blow far harder than she’d imagined, she met the surface. The shock and the cold forced the breath out of her with a gasp, and as she sank, she could feel the weight of the deep on her shift, dragging her down further. She closed her eyes. Her body struggled, even though her mind had been made up: every cell, every nerve was fighting against that decision, trying to stay alive. But it was too late – the surface was too far above her now.


He had been walking behind the plough on the low fields, his boots catching and sticking in the heavy pendik escort soil, one damp and gunmetal-grey afternoon, when a flicker of white off to one side caught his attention. He glanced up at the threatening skyline and saw a female figure walking along the high bank of the river, between his fields and the village.

He had seen her before, Laura, the girl outlined darkly against the heavy sky, standing on the river bank. She was unlike the others of her age in the village, those silly girls who thought to exercise their power over him, and failed. Campbell knew that they laughed and blushed that way for all of the village men, and this made him turn away, despite their obvious attractions. Although admittedly, sometimes he did fall for those attractions: he remembered taking one particular dark-haired beauty round the back of the village hall, her white blouse undone and her pale, creamy breasts jolting as he thrust into her. Yet he always lost interest for those girls after such an encounter, disappointed in himself and determined once more to avoid such temporary pleasures.

Laura, unlike the other village girls, didn’t often even look at him and when he did catch her eye, she would turn away quickly, busy herself with some other task. Sometimes he would wake at night, heated and confused, the dreamy feel of silky-soft skin fading from his finger tips, and wonder whether he would be secure enough, rich enough one day to be able to take a wife.

As he followed the plough, the gulls swinging and swooping in the sky above him, he recalled those dreams, with the shining gold rope of her hair and her eyes locked on his. Then, he noticed the figure on the riverbank stop still. And afterwards, his heart stopped as she plunged down into the river.


Laura woke with a gasp, sucking in the air with such surprise that she could still be here, still be breathing. As she looked around, she realised she had no idea where she was: the bare boards covering the walls, the white cotton sheets she felt against her were all unfamiliar.

She heard the metal latch on the door click and someone entered the room. Campbell. He walked over to the bed and pulled up a simple wooden stool to sit by her. He looked uncomfortable, didn’t meet her eye.

“I saw you. I couldn’t let you die. Laura?” He tailed off at the end, as though unsure of even her name. She nodded, dazed at her good fortune to be alive, amazed that he knew who she was.

Laura tested whether she could still speak and found her voice. “Thank you. How long have I been asleep?”

He turned towards her slightly, his brown eyes, fringed with dark lashes, meeting hers for a second before flickering away. “Three days. I wasn’t sure if you would make it.”

“My family?” she murmured, wondering why she was here instead of at home, in the familiar noise and bustle.

“Yes, they sent word that they will come for you, tomorrow at my guess. They did not want to move you in your…condition,” he responded, hesitantly.

He left the room abruptly and returned with a basin of soup, steam rising in curls from its surface, and a roll of bread. He placed them on the stool beside her bed, and her eyes were drawn to him as he bent at her side. His dark curls, the perfect whorl of his ear, the strength of his neck, bronzed from the sun, emerging from his shirt-collar.

And then he was gone. She ate, and started to feel slightly maltepe escort better. Outside she could hear the sounds of farm life continue on just as before, as though she had never fallen, as they had done through thousands of years of the seasons turning. She waited for Campbell to return, lying in the soft linen bed, luxuriating in so much space, so much time.

That night he returned again, bringing food and enquiring solicitously if there was anything he could do to make her more comfortable as she regained her strength. Laura could feel the fur over her teeth, stickiness on the nape of her neck where she had been lying against the pillow for so many hours. “I wonder…could I bathe myself? I feel so dirty…”

“Are you not afraid of the water?” he asked anxiously, a flicker of a frown creasing his forehead. “I, for one, cannot bear to see you underwater again so soon. I will allow it, but I will be watching to make sure you don’t submerge yourself.” She looked up guiltily, to see a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.


He kept his eyes trained on the floor in front of him, avoiding staring at the outline of her nakedness through her thin shift as he carried her into the kitchen, where a tin bath full of hot water was steaming in front of the stove, shielded by a wooden screen. Yet he could not help but feel the warmth and softness of her, and how light she felt in his arms as he cradled her.

The feeling wrenched his mind back to the moment when he had grabbed her limp body in the river, skin cooled by the freezing water and her white underclothes slick and translucent against her skin. He saw again, in his mind, the water pouring off her as he pulled her onto the bank, panting with exertion and hoping to God that she would live.

On the flagstone floor of the kitchen, Campbell let Laura stand and gestured for her to disrobe behind the screen. She stood tentatively, still holding onto his arms for support, and she saw him carefully search her face, as if for any sign of distress or sadness.

Laura looked up at him and a shiver of desire passed through her. Nearly dying had made her feel more alive – she felt changed, as though she would grasp every opportunity life threw at her and make the most of every second that she had regained.

She felt him start turning away, and before she could stop herself, she strengthened her grip on his shirt sleeve to prevent him. He resisted for a moment, muscles tensing, and then softened. Looking deep into his brown eyes, Laura pulled the loose shift over her head and stepped into the bath, lowering herself into the warmth.

“Wash me”, she commanded in a whisper, her white arm reaching up towards him holding the cloth. He took it and began to run it over her body, starting with her neck, moving down over her breasts and stomach. As he passed the fabric over her, she could feel her skin responding, every nerve tingling with the sensation of a man’s touch, Campbell’s touch, on her. She looked down at her nipples, hardening as the cloth and Campbell’s rough fingertips moved across them.

His face was calm, his expression reverent. The atmosphere in the room had changed and Laura could feel her heart beating faster. She swallowed, nervous. Suddenly, Campbell dipped his head down and kissed her. His lips were soft and she instinctively opened her mouth to his, their tongues meeting. Reaching up to touch kartal escort his throat as they kissed, Laura and felt his pulse fast under the smooth, smooth skin.

He stepped back as she stood up, a little unsteady on her feet. Handing her a coarse towel, he stood motionless as she started to dry herself. She felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment as she stood there naked, her breasts and the tuft of hair between her legs on display to him. But when she looked up she could see his gaze raking across her greedily, his body tense, his hands clenched by his sides.

She felt a jolt of pleasure shoot down her body as he looked at her, pulsing into her groin in a way she’d never felt before.

“I need you to come to bed with me,” he growled, his voice rough and low. She didn’t answer, merely walked over to where he stood and threaded her fingers through his. He led her through to his bedroom, where she climbed onto his bed as he undressed himself hurriedly, pulling off his heavy boots, shirt and breeches. She realised that he was naked underneath, as his hard cock sprang free. He clambered onto the bed with her and suddenly his arms were around her, he was kissing her throat and pressing her against the sheets, pushing himself against her.

Neither of them knew what they were doing, but they both knew they wanted to get as close to one another, as close to being inside each other’s skin, as possible. They lay there, kissing, mouths open, tongues meeting, until Campbell couldn’t bear it any more and spread her legs, reaching for the core of her, and she shuddered as he touched her, explored his way around every inch of her with the pads of his fingers. She looked down and saw how solid he was, how big his hands looked against her, and felt another convulsion as she imagined his fingers pushing inside her.

Campbell looked down at the beauty laid out below him in the flickering candle light and could not believe his good luck. The quiet girl, with the gaze that darted away from his like a frightened animal, had bewitched him with her strange mix of sorrow and determination. He could feel the silk of her skin against his, just like he had dreamed. She was clinging onto him as though he was the strongest man in the world, the only one who could save her. He had felt how wet she was, how ready.

A small moan escaped his lips as he entered her, and it felt so good, Laura’s whole body tingled as the whole hard length of him filled her. She looked up at Campbell, his eyes opened wide as he moaned, softly. Laura reached up to stroke the strong line of his jaw, and he twisted to take her fingers into his mouth. She opened her legs a little wider and wrapped her legs around his hips as he started to pump quicker, and she felt herself shut off, concentrating totally on the feeling. He leant over her, caught her erect nipple in his mouth and sucked, causing her to cry out with pleasure. Her hips arched up to meet him as he thrust into her, again and again.


The dawn broke over Campbell’s fields and lit up the tangle of linen, blankets and limbs on the bed where Campbell and Laura lay. As she opened her eyes, she reached out and gently touched the tousled dark curls that lay on the pillow beside her. Campbell woke and their eyes met. He smiled and reached back across to her, smoothing his hand down her spine and over the curve of her bottom. Laura’s skin prickled pleasurably and she sidled across the expanse of sheet between them, to rest against his shoulder.

“Do I have to go home today?” she asked, quietly.

Campbell breathed deep and a look of pure happiness spread across his face, as he replied, “You are home, my angel.”

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