Chapter36. Norman, forties. (August).
Having travelled a long way to attend a relatives funeral my father had booked two nights at a hotel. Annoying really as I hadn't really known the relative and would rather have stayed at home but the parents insisted on my presence, 'to show respect', though hadn't insisted on John accompanying us as he was busy with work. Lucky sod!
The funeral took place on Friday with a large get together of friends and relations of the deceased planned for the Saturday evening. Hence the need to stay for two nights. At least I was left to my own devices on the Saturday afternoon and decided to go for a walk.
I set off into the countryside, wearing shorts and thin top over a bra that I would have left off, but for parental disapproval. Following a footpath to I knew not where in the unfamiliar landscape, I was enjoying the warmth of the sun with the peace and quiet disturbed only by the chirruping of birds. Aware that a horse rider was coming up behind me I paused to let him pass; actually he'd been following me for ages and I wanted to be on my own again.
Drawing level he drew rein and thanked me for stepping back into the long grass to let him pass.
"You could have overtaken earlier, you've been behind me for ages," I remarked.
"Ah but the view was superb, far too pleasant to lose," he said, a broad smile on his face.
"Sorry?"
"The sight of the rhythmic movements of your bottom was too good to miss. Those very tight shorts show your shapely bum and thighs off to advantage, mine fortunately."
"Cheeky!"
"Do you ride?" he asked.
"No," I replied, suppressing the impulse to add, 'only guys'.
"Actually you're trespassing but I'll overlook it for once, as you're so attractive."
"Really? I thought I was following a public footpath, it was signed as such."
"You were but the footpath turned right at the corner of the last field," he explained, adding that it was actually his land I was trespassing on.
I apologised, saying I hadn't noticed the footpath changed direction.
"Easy mistake to make," he told me, dismounting and hanging the reins over a protruding tree branch.
Removing his riding helmet to release a shock of jet black hair, the guy introduced himself as Norman. I automatically replied with my own name while thinking what a good looking guy he was. Probably early-forties with pale blue eyes and a small moustache, Norman was of medium height and lean build.