Sweetbrier lay deep in sleep, her mind drifting in and out of thoughts of her unknown admirer. Neither name nor face had he, but she had imagination enough to fill in the blanks.
In her dreams she was bathing in a warm Summer spring, the sun painting the distant hillside in a hazy panorama of colors. Deep green grasses interspersed with red foxglove, yellow snapdragons, bright white Chrysanthemums, all dancing across the beautiful hills of the South Farthing. In the dappled shade on the bank of the river near her was laid her blue cotton dress and a willow basket with a towel draped over it.
The warm water of the river flowed about her hips, the red mane of her hair lay across the white skin of her back as she bent to dip the soap in the water. She slowly lathered the soap up, building a delicious lavender scented foam, and began to soap her arms, raising them over her head to drink in the most sun she could. Soaping her arms the golden light of day shone on her alabaster skin, her soft pink breasts high and firm as rivulets of water ran down between them.
The soap began to slide down across her arms, down her shoulders and back, and she brought the soap down to her breasts, building a deep lather as she circled them with the bar. She dragged at thumb across one nipple, bringing a soft sigh from her lips, and sending a gentle tingle down across her belly into her pussy. She continued soaping her breasts with one hand, paying special attention to her nipples now, and moved her hand across her belly, into the thick red down that coated her mound.
Her hips gave a quick involuntary buck as she began lathering her pussy hair, dipping her fingers down across her slit, but not into. The pressure there was delicious, and her eyes began to hood as she massaged her cunt with her hand, she let the bar drop into the water and began gently tugging and pinching on her nipples, quickly turning her earlier breathy gasps into deeper moans.