Word count 235
The high temperatures of the summer season had brought with it the drought.
Their shirts were damp with sweat when they rode in. The youngest immediately he had dismounted ducked his head and upper body into the water trough. He stood dripping and stripped his shirt over his head and wiped his body with it.
His brother shook his head and took a towel from the standpipe and carefully dipped it into the water before wiping his neck and face.
Johnny waited until the towel was over Scott’s face and snapped his wet shirt at him.
Of course there then ensured a duel; wet shirt versus towel.
I scolded them for being foolish nino’s and ordered them to the bathhouse to properly clean up before entering the hacienda.
Johnny laughed and as he came to me I could taste the salt from his sweat in the air around him. He bent forward kissing me on my cheek and apologised. How can I stay cross, his body is now filled out and healthy, so different from that half-starved abused figure that first arrived.
It wasn’t just heat radiating from him it was joy and happiness.
Teresa handed them both clean towels and we caught each other eye and smiled, that knowing female smile.
I am not so old I cannot feel the heat from the blush of desire.
27th August 2019
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