Hattie and Slim were fourth generation wheat farmers way west of Kansas City. They had a lot of land but no kids came along to help, no matter how oft...n they tried, so hired help was extra important. When they did find a good one, like the offspring of another farm family, or a conscientious objector, they'd go to town on a Saturday night looking for fun and pussy, and get a better offer and be gone.Growing up so close to nature, sex had never been a mystery. Swimming holes had answered a lot. Just like your artist friend.” He grinned and I didn’t like it.“My artist friend?”“Yeah, Olivia Beringer. She couldn’t take her eyes off you the other night. Jackie mentioned you went out to dinner with her.” He gulped down some more wine and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I had no idea you were into girls.”My heartbeat quickened. “I’m not. It was just dinner.”He pulled out his wallet and left a generous amount of bills on the table—at least he was a good tipper. He yanked on his. More

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