1530, Somewhere in a forest...
The young girl was on her knees and laying out a blanket on the wet grass. It was a black woolen blanket that she had woven and dyed herself just months ago.
Barely out of her teens, she wore a pale green dress that hugged her slightly chubby body and a pair of small brown slippers on her pale feet. She was beautiful beyond words. Her hair was long enough to touch her buttocks and as dark as the soil beneath the wet blades of grass. Her skin was pale on every part of her, save for the parts of her that glowed a lustful pink... Her face was the living portrait of imaginary goddesses long forgotten. Her lips appeared succulent and always hungry for a kiss. Her chin was strong but feminine and delicately shaped, as were her baby-fat cheeks which also seemed to beg for affection.
Lastly, but not least, her eyes were without doubt her most magnificent and heart-stopping features. They were a pure and glistening emerald and a fierce fire burned within them. A single glance from this flawless beauty could be the eternal torment of any man (or woman). And yet here she was, hidden safely away from the vast and hurtful world. She belonged to one and one only....
He arrived late as always. She had first spotted him approaching from the hill, on his horse. Thunder screeched behind the thick grey clouds in the sky, as if to let her know that her mate was near. Her heart began to beat faster at the sight of him. She could almost pick up his scent in the air already. He rode faster as he got closer. She heard his loud commanding shouts to his horse and secretly imagined receiving similar commands from him - her "Rider". She almost felt the urge to get down on all fours and wait for him to mount her right then and there. But that would be too easy. She was in a very playful mood today....
He stopped his horse a few feet away from her and climbed off, landing hard on the damp earth. He patted his horse and the animal wandered aimlessly around the woods until it stopped to rest.
They stared at each other from a distance for a few seconds. Then he started walking towards her, removing his black leather gloves, pulling the finger sockets out with each step. His boots sank into the wet ground and made a noise as he walked. He was finally standing only inches away from her and she spoke first.
"Take them off!" She commanded.
He looked down and knew what she meant when he saw his boots were covered in mud. He lifted his right leg up a bit and slowly began taking off the first boot. He slipped it off and tossed it onto the ground before placing his black hose-covered foot onto the soft blanket. The second boot came off and then he proceeded to unbutton his black doublet. As he did so, he looked at her. She was watching him with hungry eyes. He looked at her neck. He removed his gaze only to restrain himself from pouncing on her too soon.
His doublet fell onto the blanket and his crimson linen shirt came off next. He was standing in front of her, topless, wearing only his black hose and breeches. He looked at her again.
"Off!" She commanded again
He pulled down his hose (yes, men wore stockings in those days) and slipped them off his feet. She looked at his legs. They were strong and pale, and they were contrasted by his black body hair. She grinned as she watched him pull his breeches down. Her eyes followed down to his ankles and then slowly went up again. She stared at his member. It was slightly darker than his pale crotch and she could see it was beginning to grow. She bit her lip and sank down to her knees in front of him. He barely had a chance to react before she wrapped her fingers around his manhood and took it into her mouth. Her tongue was soft and warm and for a moment he stood there like a statue, enjoying the incredible feeling of her mouth on him.