Mary could barely contain herself in church. She sat with the rest of the household servants, her head bowed demurely, hands folded in her lap and tried to concentrate on the pastor's voice intoning that day's sermon. But her mind kept drifting, thinking about Jack and his kind smile, his eager hands, his soft lips...
She shifted in her seats, this line of thought making her flustered, and Betsy, sitting next to her looked across at her. Betsy knew why Mary was so fidgety and smiled to herself. Mary was so sweet, so kind to Betsy and she deserved to meet a nice man to love. Betsy had no disillusions about herself; short and plump, her face friendly but plain, she would never meet a man to take care of her. Her nature was kind and she was a good worker; the best she could hope for was solid employment in the house, but sometimes, at night, when the house was quiet she would have liked someone to talk to, someone to call her own. At 21 years old, she could see no future for herself other than hard work in the house.
After the service, Mary, still in her good clothes, ran with unseemly haste to the oak clearing in the woods to meet Jack. He was already waiting for her, unfamiliar in his stiff collared shirt and jacket rather than his sturdy work clothes. He held out his arm for her and she threaded her own through his crooked elbow. Together they wandered slowly through the woods and onto country lanes, not following any route in particular but enjoying the country air, the sounds and sights of spring around them, and each other's company.
It was obvious to Mary that Jack was overwhelmed by her. He trembled when she touched his arm, stuttered whenever she smiled at him. She wondered what he would do if she should suddenly draw her skirts up and beg him to touch her in the way he did before, and as her mind drifted, she began drawing closer to him, her long thigh brushing against his as they walked, her arm pressing more firmly on his. Jack was aware of the sudden change in tension between them; he hadn't known how to approach her, how to tell her what he wanted but he began to see that she wanted it as much as he did.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he guided her across fields and into the shelter of a row of trees. They came to a stop under a large oak, it's new spring foliage sheltering them, overhanging branches forming a secret bower for them. Jack took off his jacket and spread it on the ground for Mary to sit. As he lowered himself down by her side, her slim arms came up and encircled him, drawing his head down to kiss her. His lips were surprisingly soft, and she enjoyed taking the lead, her tongue exploring his mouth. She felt his hands on her waist, and then slide up slowly until his hand cupped her full breasts beneath her thick coat. Pulling away, she unfastened her buttons to allow him easier access. Her best bodice was made of fine cotton, and as he played with her breasts, he could feel her nipples rise to a point, pushing against his palm. He lowered his mouth to kiss them, sucking gently through the bodice and her petticoats. Mary, frustrated by this gentle, slow action, pushed him away and began to disrobe. She wanted to feel his mouth on her flesh, to feel him biting and sucking hard. He watched as her body emerged from her petticoats, her breasts firm and full, her nipples erect in the brisk spring air. His eyes dropped to look at the dark cleft between her legs, and she turned around so he could see her rounded buttocks.
Teasing him, she placed her hands on each cheek and separated them slightly, so he could see the cleft there, and bent forward slightly so he saw the deep wedge between her thighs. He moved forward and lifted a hand to touch her, feeling the heat and wetness. He wanted to taste her again, to feel her warmth envelope him, to lick at the sticky sweet juices that flowed from her. He guided her back to the jacket spread under the tree and laid her down, marvelling at her soft pale flesh so different from his own, sun hardened skin.
