"Laurey, sit down to some breakfast, you look exhausted!" Aunt Eller admonished as Laurey descended the stairs.

She yawned in response and sat down across from Jud, who seemed to be trying harder than usual to avoid looking at her. His body was tense, like a cat watching a cornered mouse.

"How was Claremore? First big party, that's excitin' for a girl."

"Wasn't excitin'" she mumbled under her breath.

"Dance with a lot of boys?"

"No, didn't dance with any boys." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jud visibly relax "they all wanted to dance with Annabel Collins and Catherine Mortmain." she tried not to scowl as she was reminded of their full figures swathed in expensive fabrics.

"Well" Eller patted her hand. "Plenty of boys out there, and by next year I'm sure they'll all be clamberin' to dance with you."

"Maybe" she finished eating and yawned ostentatiously.

"You should rest a bit more, Laurey; seem mighty fatigued."

"Yes, Aunt Eller."

Laurey took a deep breath before walking into the smokehouse. She hadn't realized how dark it would be, and almost regretted spending so much time putting on rouge and lip tint. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness though and she looked at the pictures on his wall. Her face flushed as she registered what she saw–women in various stages of undress, different poses. She forced herself to look, her eyes drawn to a photograph of a woman with her legs spread completely open, so open that Laurey could see…

"Laurey?" She had never heard him so surprised. A part of her liked being able to surprise him.

"Hi, Jud."

"Shouldn't be lookin' at those." Jud closed the door behind him and locked it.

"Why shouldn't I? They're women, ain't they?"

"Yeah."

"And I'm a woman?"

"Laurey, that ain't the point, I–"

"You don't think I've ever seen myself?"

Visibly flustered, he rubbed the back of his neck. "I reckon I never thought about it."

She turned back to the pictures, moving on to another one. "That the kind of girl you like, Jud Fry? It's a wonder she don't fall over, bein' so top-heavy."

"Laurey, they're just pictures. I don't expect…regular women to look like that"

She turned towards him, her feelings of inadequacy rising bubbling over. "You tellin' me I ain't pretty enough to be a French postcard girl?"

"That ain't what I meant, Laurey. You know that ain't what I meant."

Still not mollified, she remained silent, biting her lower lip, so he began elaborating.

"See, this one's got a smile just like yours. And this one over here has hair like yours. And this one's my very favorite and I figure she looks just like you."

She looked at the picture he was pointing at, of a girl with close-cropped auburn hair and a crooked smile. "Jud, that girl looks nothin' like me."

"Sure, she does." he covered the girl's face, leaving only the naked body on display. "Looks just like you."

She felt something twist in her stomach, it wasn't quite fear, but it was something close. "How do you know what I look like with my clothes off?" she demanded.

"S'pose I don't know exactly. But I saw you swimmin' a couple times. And you're not real careful about closin' your curtains, so I can see your… outline in the window some nights. Most nights"

She knew she should storm out, but the memories of the party lingered, the yearning to be desired, to be noticed even. And Jud always noticed her.

"Do you want to see me with my clothes off?" she blurted out, the words that had seemed playful and seductive in her head suddenly sounding shrill and desperate. She stood there a few moments, afraid he would say no, terrified he would say yes.

He stared at her, mouth slightly agape. "Yeah. Of course I want that, Laurey."

"All right, then." She began unbuttoning her dress, wishing she had worn something easier to take off, something that would have given her less time to think.

"Laurey…what are you doin'?"

"I missed you. When I was at the party over the weekend. The boys there, they" she remembered what Jud had said that day in her room. "They didn't know how to handle me. Either treat me like a kid or like I was made of porcelain. I just felt so lonely there, seeing some of the other girls whisperin' in corners with boys or bein' kissed on the stairs. And I kept thinkin' about how you kissed me and I wanted that real bad." She finally wriggled out of her dress, letting it puddle on the floor, leaving her only in a corset, chemise, and bloomers. She closed her eyes, the excitement and shame pricking her skin in equal measure.

She heard him step towards her before he caressed her face in his hand and kissed her on the lips. When he pulled away, his hand still on her cheek, she gazed up at him.

"You really missed me? Even though–a lot of people were there?"

"Sure, Jud" she cleared her throat as she saw him looking down at her. He kissed her again and she felt herself light up–Annabel and Catherine could have all the boys at the party they wanted, but at that moment, Laurey had a real man who wasn't afraid to take her in his arms. Quickly, he undid her corset, then with a jerk, he pulled off her camisole, leaving her naked from the waist up.

"You think I'm pretty, Jud Fry?"

"Prettiest girl in the Territory. Prettiest girl in the whole West, probably."

"Pretty as your French postcard girls?"

He laughed "Yeah, you're my own French postcard girl." He backed her up against the wall, then licked his thumb and began gliding it over her nipple, cupping her breast in his hand. The sensation itself was strange, but something about it made her core start throbbing, made her gasp before she could help herself.

"That make you feel good, Miss Laurey Williams?"

Under any other circumstances, she would have resented his mocking tone, would have teased him right back, but all she could manage was a faint "uh-huh"

He continued fondling her breasts "I'm gonna find out everything that makes you feel good, and I'm gonna do it over and over. Do it until I'm the only goddamn thought in your head."

"Uh-huh"

"I love you, Laurey Williams" he whispered against her neck in between kisses. "Always gonna love you. Ain't gonna leave you alone, always gonna want to be around you."

She barely heard him, but it sounded so sweet."Oh, Jud you do talk pretty."

He sat on the bed and pulled her down onto his lap, so that she was straddling him, legs spread wide. His incessant kisses trailed from her neck to her shoulders, then landed on her breasts, until finally he caught one of her nipples in his mouth. She squealed and tried to push him away, but he held her firmly, forcing her to experience every second of the exquisite torture.

"Jud, you make me feel like…"

"Like what? Wanna hear you say it."

"Like a whore"

He gave her a fierce kiss on the mouth before whispering in her ear, "You are a little whore, Laurey Williams. And you like bein' a little whore. Like bein' my little whore. Nobody else'd know that. But I know it and you know it. Know how goddamn desperate you are for it."

"Yes, Jud" another little thrill surged through her body as he slid her off of him and maneuvered her onto the bed. He pulled her bloomers off, leaving her completely naked in front of him. He lay down next to her, and, still kissing her, he slid his hand down her belly and began rubbing her between her thighs.

"You ever do this to yourself?"

"Sometimes." she confessed, bucking her hips against his hand.

"You think about me?"

There was no point in lying, or in acting coy when she was already naked on his bed "Yeah, 'specially after you kissed me."

"Good. I like that." he spat on his hand and continued rubbing her most sensitive spot while he ran his tongue in rapid circles along her nipple. It didn't take long until she was gasping at the sensations, his tongue flicking over her, and his slick fingers caressing her, until a wave of pleasure crashed over her, and with a little yelp she felt herself come undone under his hand.

"You like that, Laurey?"

"Yeah, Jud."

He moved his finger very slightly and began pressing against her–pressing into her. She flinched at the stinging, tearing sensation, and he immediately pulled his hand away.

"That wasn't supposed to hurt; you okay?" he whispered against her ear. "I just wasn't sure because some girls don't have–"

"It's all right, Jud" she gently pressed her hand against the back of his neck in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture. She didn't want to hear about what other girls he'd known may or may not have had down there.

He smirked, clearly accepting her forgiveness. "You want me to kiss it better?"

"What are you talkin' about?" she giggled out of nervous confusion.

He sat up and moved to the end of the bed, spreading her thighs open. She bit her lip as he looked up at her. "Laurey, I promise you are gonna love this."

"Okay."

He started at her inner thigh, licking her slowly. Then he moved his head ever so slightly to the side and began stroking her with his tongue. It barely skimmed over her, but it felt like nothing she'd ever experienced before. Instead of waves of pleasure rolling over her and then receding, this felt as though she were completely submerged in it, as though nothing was real but the feel of his mouth against her, his lips and tongue pressed against places she had no name for. She began grabbing at his hair, the bedclothes, her own body to anchor herself while she cried out over and over, made incoherent by the overwhelming pleasure. Finally, he stopped, looking up at her with his big, brown eyes.

"Told you you'd like that." he wiped off his lips with the sleeve of his shirt. "Gonna smell like you all day now."

He lay down next to her, while she still struggled to catch her breath, feeling strangely empty.

"Can make you feel that good all the time, Laurey. You want that?"

"I do. Yeah." she rolled over so that she was facing him. "That's not…wrong, is it?"

"'Course not, Laurey." he stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. "People like you and me, we're just made so we need it more often."

She rolled over, but he didn't get the hint and instead draped his arm around her, gently cupping her breast. People like you and me; as though she were anything like him. Now that the feeling, that indescribable yearning, was gone, she took stock of what she had done, of where she was. Laurey Williams lying completely naked in a filthy bed in a filthy house with filthy pictures she shouldn't even be looking at on the walls. And she'd asked for it, practically begged for it, like a whore. The word no longer set off a little thrill deep in her belly, just left her ashamed of what she had become.

"I should go"

"You sure you don't want to rest some more? Lyin' down afterward is the best part sometimes."

"I'm sure" she stood up and began getting dressed while he watched her. "Promised Aunt Eller I'd help with…some things. You know."

He got up and kissed her before she left. "I'll see you soon, then, Miss Laurey."

Her resolve held a few days. At first she was too exhausted to even feel anything down there, then as her yearnings grew again, undiminished, she told herself that memory of what had happened would be enough. Enough to hold her over until her wedding night, when she'd be married to some nice, friendly boy who loved her the proper way, a boy who could make her forget all about Jud. But her wedding day and imaginary husband seemed such a long way off that one day she found herself on the very edge of the property after Aunt Eller mentioned Jud would be repairing the fence.

It didn't take long to find him, crouched down and biting his lip in concentration. He looked up at the sound of her footsteps and walked towards her, backing her up against the fence.

"Hi, Laurey."

"Hi, Jud" she whispered. Then with no preliminaries, no flirting, he was kissing her and running his hands along her body, touching and squeezing her until she was nearly doubled over and whimpering.

It was like that the rest of the summer. Every few days she would manage to cross paths with him while he was working, then when they could be sure no one would see, Laurey found herself against a fence or a wall, or sometimes flat on her back, while he explored her body with his fingers and tongue. She always despised herself–and him–afterwards, but never seemed able to stay away; the feel of his body–his large hands, his lips–against hers, had become second nature. Even when they ate together under Eller's watchful eye, he managed to make her feel those little sparks. Something as simple as the feel of his foot against hers under the table would thrill her, and their brief glimpses of each other always threatened to make her blush, remembering everything he had done to her.