The air seemed alive to the smell of hops, apples and sugar as the stalls did a roaring trade this mid-summers harvest day fair. The weather even smiled this day, the sky being cloud free and a delightful heat seemed to sparkle in the air. Outside the public house old men drank fresh brewed beer or the more potent apple cider. Children drank ginger beer and darted to and fro eating greedily coconut ice and toffee apples or bags of spun sugar. On the green a band played tinny tunes to those who would listen and the dance floor was there for the Harvest Dance tonight.
Near the church dowagers fought over treasures or trash depending on your point of view, their daughters twirled parasols as they compared their dresses and wondered who would dance with them. There were even gypsy performers amazing those who watched them with skills with knife and horse. Others played the clown to laughing people who threw money into the caps laid down.
I smiled as I stepped up to the contests of strength and lifted the wooden mallet. Feeling the balance I brought it down with skill and allowed the weight to drive the head onto the rubber stopper, the wooden mark flew up the greased pole and rang the bell on its top. I laughed and took my prize a rag doll that I readily gave to a young girl who was delighted. Did they think that the blacksmith of this village did not know how to drive a hammer and ring a bell. Thirsty I made my way to the tent selling drink and slaked my throat with the sweet apple cider.
I laughed with joy as I joked with friends and made my way to the bench outside the tent and saw you move through the stalls nodding and smiling to your friends. My heart seemed to beat faster and I felt as I always did, a desperate need for you and a knowledge that we would never be together. Perhaps you felt my gaze for you raised your eyes to mine and we looked deeply into each others souls. People got in the way and blocked my view and I returned to my glass only to leave it for a meat pie.
The gravy scalded my tongue but it warmed me and I walked about the fair marvelling at the new inventions being shown, there was even a steam traction engine there. I would greet my friends and we would drink until half drunk I staggered behind some bushes to relieve my full bladder. It was so hot and dusty, I felt I needed another drink. My water streamed onto the dry dust until I finished and I turned as I heard a sound behind me. It was you and I quickly tucked in my cock and looked again at you. You seemed shocked and you averted your eyes but I had seen the desire there and the need. Need that I also felt and I wanted you.
We were away from the others and I could hear little of their movement. This was the first time that you were away from your protective brothers and father. I burnt with anger as I remembered the talk your father had given me, about how I was to keep away from you and that I scared you. I knew that they were trying to keep us apart so they could marry you to some ponce clerk more fitting to their station.
The drink made me braver than usual I think for I stepped up to you and kissed you sloppily on your lips. There seemed to be no sound and you struggled a little for I knew I had surprised you. I held you to me and though at first you struggled it ceased and you returned my kiss with a fervour I had not expected. I kissed you more deeply my tongue in your mouth and I caressed your breasts through the cloth of your pretty white dress. You grunted as I held my lips pressed to your own. There was no struggle as I explored your body with my hands and my fingers slipped into your bodice and I smiled warmly as I felt your milky white breasts.
Then I felt the cloth rip as I pulled it away from the orbs it covered. My hands cupped your breasts and felt the sensitive flesh rise as my rough thumbs circled the the flesh of your nipples. You groaned and I covered your mouth to stop others interrupting us for I did not want your reputation to be besmirched as I knew it may. I saw the pleasure in your wide eyes and I smiled at you as I bent my head and devoured your breasts as though they were the meat pie I had finished only a short time before. Yet your flesh was sweeter than a meat pie or any dish that I could have. They were of the creamiest white and they were topped by a splash of pink that rose above the hill they stood on. No mewling poet could describe such perfection.
