AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This story has been submitted as part of the RAINY DAY STORY CHALLENGE set on the Author Hangout Discussion Forum. All criteria and build up can be viewed through this link:
RAINY DAY STORY CHALLENGE THREAD
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Heather walked slowly but determinedly towards the entrance to the site. Heart thumping, stomach churning, she had no idea what had made her even think of coming to the local folk festival. But now that she was here, she was determined to go on.
A woman in her early 40s, Heather stood around 5'6". Her body wasn't slim any more, but she wasn't overweight. The flesh was generous around her bust and hips; her hair shoulder length auburn, lightly shot through with silver streaks, which glinted when the sun caught them. She wore no make up, had not for many years, and was dressed conservatively in white pants, a loose white short-sleeved shirt and sandals. It was a very warm summer day; if she summoned the courage to stay, she wanted to be comfortable.
As Heather passed through the gates, handing in her ticket, looking in surprise at the admission stamp that was pressed against her hand, no-one would have guessed the way her heart was pounding, how nervous she really was. Many years of practice had perfected her outward appearance of a woman totally confident, totally in control of herself and her emotions. Outwardly calm, those who had been allowed close enough to see, had been surprised and a little daunted by the fire they had seen burning behind her green eyes; and the fear.
Moving slowly, carefully around, Heather's eyes darted back and forth taking in all the sights and sounds. Men and women - not all of them young - in colourful clothes, bright, gay, noisy, happy faces, enjoying the sunshine, the warmth, the music, the atmosphere. She moved to the edges of the area, making herself inconspicuous in her usual way. It also allowed her to watch and observe much more without being seen to stare.
Dismayed by the sound of laughter, her character always assuming that laughter within her hearing was directed at her, she turned her head nervously towards the sound. She sighed with relief when she realised the laughter was of enjoyment, not mocking. Her eyes took in the group, young - so happily young in her eyes, full of energy, loving life and living it to the full. Young men and women, in their free and easy clothes, relaxed in the company of each other. She envied them that ability to simply be themselves.
As her eyes drifted over the group, not really focussing, one of the girls broke away from them and as she turned, her eyes met Heather's. For a few moments their eyes looked into each other's. Heather held her breath, the girl frowned briefly, a frown that turned to a soft smile as she moved past Heather to one of the side tents.
Heather watched her walk, taking in the view from the back; soft, baggy, comfortable trousers hanging low on her hips and drifting over long legs, sandals barely covering slim, elegant feet. The older woman's eyes lingered on the brief glimpses of lightly tanned flesh visible between the pants and her cropped t-shirt. Slim, neat, delightful. Heather sighed, smiled a rueful smile, and turned away to take in more of the sights around her, and listen to the music.
As the day wore on, Heather toured the site, visiting the stalls and listening to the acts that interested her, she became more and more relaxed. Several times she noticed the girl from the group; she became aware that once or twice when she saw the girl, just at the moment she was looking, the girl was also watching her. The first time Heather was embarrassed and quickly looked away. The second time, the girl smiled gently at her. The third time there was no smile. But neither looked away for a few seconds.
Finally Heather dragged her face away and moved to find a place to sit and rest her legs. She had been strolling around for several hours, and was growing tired.
Noticing a large, comfortably overhanging oak tree, she dropped to the grass at its roots, grateful for the sturdy trunk against her back, and on her head the shade of the overhanging branches. The very warm day had gradually turned heavy and humid, making her very weary. Settling comfortably, the heavy heat soon made Heather feel drowsy, and to the sound of the music and an unfamiliar, but nonetheless pleasant, feeling of relaxation, she closed her eyes.
Very soon her mind was drifting gently through the images captured during her day...people, colours, sounds...and more than once the image of a slim, attractive young woman, with golden hair, golden skin, a gentle smile, soft brown eyes so very deep; her own face registered a smile at the thought of her. Heather was glad she had come to the festival, and relaxed even more deeply against the tree, turning her head to one side.
Shadows of people passing by, flickered over her, and after jerking nervously at the first one or two, she became comfortable with them and relaxed again. Then a shadow fell over her but did not pass. It stayed, cloaking her form with comfortable shade. She heard nothing. No movement, no sound, and after a few seconds she dared to look.
Her eyes widened in surprise. There before her, bathed in an aura of sunlight, was the golden girl, standing tall and elegant, like a sunflower. Heather held her breath, did not dare to speak, merely looked. Their eyes met and held, then the girl smiled, and spoke.
"What a sensible thing to do, its been a long day. Do you mind if I share your tree with you?"
Heather swallowed, licked her suddenly dry lips and smiled nervously. "N....no...not at all. Please."
The girl lowered herself lightly to sit on the grass beside Heather, leaned her back against the tree, their shoulders almost touching. Heather had followed her movement with her eyes, and as the girl sat, her head was turned sideways looking at her.
The girl began to talk; about the music, the groups, the performers, the side-shows, the weather - Heather heard none of it. She was held by the pure sound of her voice, the tone, the nuances and the way it made her tingle.
She was a stranger to these feelings. No. Don't lie to yourself Heather. That's not true. She remembered school friends, college friends who had captivated her. She remembered her feelings, her desires, her needs. Unfulfilled. Always unfulfilled. And here in front of her very eyes was another woman unleashing the same feelings, the same desires, the same needs.
In a moment of panic, she suddenly started to rise, and speak, "I have...", but before she could rise, the girl had reached out, laid her hand on Heather's arm, the touch burning into her skin. Sending ripples of feeling and desire rushing through her body.
"Please....don't go. Not yet."
Not knowing why, why this stranger could compel her so easily, Heather dropped back to her place on the grass, her heart pounding, body burning. The girl's hand stayed on Heather's arm, the fingers encircling her skin, gently caressing. Heather breathed deeply and lifted her head, making herself look at the girl. Their eyes met again, and this time, neither looked away. Heather felt herself drowning in those eyes. Deep, soft, welcoming.