Exclusive Excerpt from Apple Boy

by Isobel Starling

“This is our line,” Adam declared, leading me to the first tree of a long line that flowed down into the distant valley.  He tossed his basket onto the grass. “You collect the windfalls; I’ll do the high ups.” Adam ducked and picked up a blushed scarlet apple from the grass.  He looked it over for rot and worms, wiped it on his shirt, and then sank his teeth into the red skin. The crunch I heard told me that this variety of pomme was firm and fleshy.  Juice trickled over Adam’s stubble-free chin, and he smiled, looking at me in a way that, with all of my experience of bedding men, appeared to be flirtatious in intent.  He chewed noisily. I had not observed such an erotic display since I’d left Thorn.  He watched me cautiously as he ate and then licked the juice from his lips and offered the bitten apple to me.  I stepped forward hungrily to accept it, and he tossed the apple. I plucked it from the air with my right hand.  

“Good reflexes,” Adam said with a grin.  He turned to walk back the way we came.

“Eat as many apples ye can stomach, Win Harding,” he hollered, “But I don’t advise bingin’ or ye’ll give yerself a runny bum,” he added, laughter evident in his voice.  “Now, start collectin’ those windfalls,” he instructed, “I’ll go stable Applejack an’ raid ma’s larder.”

I couldn’t deny the laugh that burst from me at hearing Adam’s outrageous comment.  The laughter brought with it such a joyous sensation of release. It was strange. I’d been carrying the weight of the world on my back for these past two weeks, and just a few minutes in the company of Adam Sewell made me feel light.  All was not lost. There were still good souls still left in the world, and my heart swelled with hope. I watched as Adam walked away, unable to take my eyes off the roundness of his shapely backside in tight brown britches. I shook my head in an attempt to rid it of the lustful thoughts.  

I turned to the gnarly, twisted apple tree and fell to my knees in the moist, cold, loam at its base, clutching the bitten apple Adam had gifted to me.  I could see his teeth marks in the skin and how they’d torn away the pale juicy flesh. I wanted to place my mouth where Adam’s had been, lick it and drink in the sweetness, all the while dreaming about how he would taste.  Was that wrong?  I had no idea about Adam’s tastes at all.  I didn’t know if Adam was just kind or my kind.  

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