Sam had not been to an agricultural show before and enjoyed a wonderful morning in the bright sunshine looking at the animals, visiting the exhibits and watching the activities in the ring. She had petted the otter hounds, been surprised by the variety of sheep breeds, enjoyed a glass of real lemonade, been impressed by the size of the bulls, but been totally disinterested in the multitude of brightly coloured, and no doubt very powerful, tractors and other farm machinery.
The day had been hot right from the start and she had come in her white cotton dress with a big floppy hat. She was a pretty girl and knew it. So did most of the men present, a lot had turned to watch her as she walked past and not a few had thought ideas that perhaps they should not have done. One of these was Randolph Trevais. He had taken one of the tents provided, for a fee, by the organisers for his booth. He liked coming to agricultural shows for the atmosphere rather than the business. He generally found that he little more than covered his costs because farmers, sportsmen and the sort of country folk who came to the shows did not usually see a need for his services. He advertised, "Problems cured by hypnosis. Sleeping difficulties, worries, concentration problems etc etc - see Randolph Trevais." The lack of custom did not indicate he was not good at his trade. He was.
Randolph had the leisure to watch Sam as she wandered about, he even smiled expectantly at her as she walked towards his booth but when she read the sign she turned away seeing no interest or need in what it offered. Randolph admired her slender figure, long flowing golden hair under her floppy straw hat, long legs, ample bosom, and the attractive sway of her bottom in the light cotton of her dress. As she turned away the sun shining through her dress showed her to him in silhouette. It shone through her hair making it even more golden and it also showed the exact contours of her figure through the dress suddenly made almost transparent by the bright light.
Sam returned to the ring and became absorbed in the heavy horse display. There were all varieties there: Shires, Percherons, great grey Clydesdales and even the smaller Suffolk Punches. She liked the Punches the best with their rich orange brown coats brushed and brushed by their owners until they shone. She watched them for a long time. What she did not see creeping up on her and indeed quietly creeping up on the rest of the crowd was a black cloud. One half of the sky was bright blue, the other black with cloud. The sun was still shining when the rain swept over the field. It soaked Sam in seconds. She gasped when the rain first hit her and looked wildly about for shelter. It was a long way away. It was not easy to run in her shoes so she slipped them off and held them in one hand, holding her hat onto her head with the other. It was in the process of removing her shoes that she realised what the rain had already done to her dress. It clung to her body, soaked with rainwater, showing and moulding her curves in exact detail and, what was worse, being thin and white it had gone almost transparent revealing her bra and panties.
These too were white, as of course they had to be under a white dress. A lovely soft white cotton bra with little frills and matching panties; both new that morning. They too were soaking and like the dress had become almost transparent. Sam was as near to being naked in the rain in the middle of the agricultural show as she could be without actually being naked. She looked up and despite the rain many men were watching her with appreciative smiles and the odd nudge to companions. There was not much she could do about that apart from run for shelter but even that was going to be embarrassing for her because, when she reached it, not just the few men still out in the rain would see her but the whole sheltering crowd would see her in her predicament. She did not relish the prospect but what else could she do? She ran, her feet slipping on the wet grass, towards the marquees and tents for shelter.
Randolph Trevais saw her coming from the dryness of his tent, his marquee. He saw a wet bedraggled version of the girl who had walked past with such poise and confidence in her own appearance minutes before. As she ran closer he could see the effect of the rain on her dress, its near transparency and the exposure of her sexual attributes. He raised his hand and beckoned her into the shelter of his tent.
Sam saw Randolph ahead of her in the dry sanctuary of his tent. She saw his hand rise inviting her into its shelter and out of the pouring rain. Instinctively she rushed towards him and in through the tent flap and out of the downpour.
"Urgh!" she gasped, "where did that come from?" She stood with chest heaving from the exertion of running, rain falling from her, rivulets running down her face from her hair and dripping off her chin.
Randolph's eyes followed a drip downwards and saw the drip run on down inside the material of her dress and into the valley her breasts made in her dress. His gaze flicked sideways to her pretty pink nipples showing through the thin cotton material of both her dress and bra. He looked back up at her face and into her blue eyes. He smiled, "Unexpected, a real cloudburst from nowhere. Rain that, I'm afraid, certainly caught you. Now what can I do for you? Let's see what we need is a towel. Sit, sit here."
It was a relief to be out of the rain. Sam took off her hat, shook it and sat and looked about her. It was dry in the tent. The strong smell grass gives when it has been crushed by footsteps inside a warm tent came strongly to her nostrils, an earthy, comfortable scent. The man returned smiling and sat opposite her and handed her a towel.
"Here you are, not much of a towel but it is the best I can do. Now what is your name?"
She smiled her thanks and said "Sam." Looking at him she was struck by the man's brown eyes, deep set in a face otherwise dominated by a black beard with flecks of grey. She dabbed at her face and hair as he began to talk about the rain, the show and her misfortune in a soft voice. She listened, at first casually as she patted herself with the towel, more concerned at herself than what he was saying, but then more intently as she found herself watching his eyes, friendly but strangely unblinking, as he talked. Her hands and the towel came to rest in her lap. She listened to his soothing voice and his talk of the rain, the show and her misfortune. She felt safe, comfortable, slightly dreamy even.
"Well, Sam, you do seem to have got yourself very wet in the rain, haven't you?"
In a rather slower voice than usual, Sam replied, "Yes, very wet in the rain."
"You need to get dry don't you?"
"Yes, get dry."
Randolph smiled to himself, this was going very well.
"You really have got very damp indeed."
"Yes, very damp."
"You haven't used the towel I gave you very much, have you?"
"No, not very much." She dabbed at herself.
"I'd better help you, would you like that?"
"Yes, I'd like that."
"First thing, is to get those wet things off, they make you cold and keep you wet, don't you agree? We don't want you catching cold, do we?"
"Yes, get wet things off."
"Shall I help you undress?"
"Yes, undress."
