The sunlight gleamed on her hair as he saw her across the lush field of green grass. He'd never seen anyone that beautiful before. 'I thought I knew everyone in the village,' he thought to himself. She was shepherding a flock of goats and the wind playfully flipped her hair and her dress showing off her pale perfect neck and legs. His vision clouded and his trousers got stiff.
Before he realized what he was doing he was running full sprint down the slope of the grass. Tumbling literally head over heels for this strange maiden. A stitch formed in his side as he approached her from behind. Unable to call out or slow down he ran smack into her back and the both began tumbling down the hillside, a tangle of arms, legs, dress, and staff.
Goats scattered left and right and he heard her scream, a high pitched warble that hardly carried in these high hills. They came to rest together in a cool valley, and as he shook his head to try and right himself he felt a sharp crack on the top of his head! He saw stars and his vision doubled. 'I'll not be your catch today, young hoodlum!' Another crack!
'Wait,' he cried throwing his arms over his head and squeezing his eyes shut as he waited for the next blow.
"Why I should stop, you little knave. Look at what you've done!" His eyes slowly focused and he saw that her beautiful dress was now covered in grass stains, the bustier ripped and barely containing her generous, heaving busom. The skirt was likewise torn all the way up past the knee. His eye grew into dinner plates.
The blood rushed back into his cheeks and his trousers. He quickly averted his eyes and stammered, 'I, I, I, I'm sorry madam, I, I, I don't know what came over me, I saw you from the top of the hill and just had to come meet you!'
The woman traced his gaze and looked down. Noticing the extent of the damage for the first time, she blushed, too. As she moved to cover her breasts, the bustier gave way and her pearly breasts tumbled into the open air, the nipples already aroused from the fall and the wind caressing them. His eyes almost popped out of his head and he became fully erect. He knew he should look away, but this was the very first time he had seen a woman's chest and his mouth hung agape.
'You should be ashamed of yourself, little scallywag!' The woman dropped her staff as she did her best to keep her chest covered. But the more she fought to stay decent, the worse the tears in her dress became. As she turned her back on the young man, she trod on the hem of her dress, tripped, and fell. The split now ran all the way from her thigh up to the middle of her back.
The lad was up in a flash, he wanted to make sure she hadn't hurt herself. She screamed again as she felt his hand grab her shoulder! As he turned her over, to help her to her feet she cried, "Don't even think about it, perverted arse!" She kicked her free leg out and suddenly he was laying on top of her. "Why don't you leave me alone, brute?" She hit his stomach, knocking all the wind out. He couldn't say anything if he tried. He did try though, but all that came out sounded like grunts and gasps of passion.
As she struggled to roll over, her bucking hips and splayed legs somehow worked his trousers down past his hips, she was on top of him now, but neither could go anywhere. Her dress was wrapped around his legs, somehow, keeping them in place and holding her on top of his rigid member. Her weight on top of him meant that he still hadn't recovered his breath as she pounded his face and chest with her fists.