Tupped at the agricultural show
By Maximilian Cummings
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.”
“Stand up then.”
Sam stood in the middle of the marquee, her dress still as wet as before, arms, legs in fact everything, except perhaps her face, still soaked. She waited patiently, unconcerned that anything might not be as it should be, that something might be wrong. Randolph laced up the tent flap and turned back to Sam; he was going to enjoy this very much indeed. He went around to the back of her and put his hands on her arms. The skin was very smooth, a little damp and cold.
“Dear, oh dear, you are wet.” He gently rubbed the towel down the outside of her arms. “Well, this is not going to get you really dry is it? Now how does this pretty dress undo, ah I see, buttons down the back.” He began to undo them one by one, the dress parting at the back as he progressed downwards, first revealing the little bumps of her spine on her tanned back, right up near her neck, and then, with another button undone, the white of her bra strap, with those little hooks to undo, revealed. Randolph left the bra alone and continued downward exposing yet more of her back until, at the last button, the top of her white panties showed. He dabbed at her back with the towel picking up little drops of water. It was pleasant to be so close to her smooth skin and watch the little droplets being picked off her skin by the towelling. He felt a strong desire to kiss her back, to touch it with his tongue but it was not yet time.
Randolph took hold of Sam’s shoulders and ever so gently pulled her around to face him, he smiled at her rather doped expression, “Now, Sam, I’m going to slip your wet dress off so I can get it and you dry, will that be alright?”
Sam nodded. Randolph lifted the shoulders of her dress, now open to her waist at the back, up and to the sides and brought them down past her arms. The front of the dress slipped downwards catching for a moment on the prominence of her bra but then it was free and level with her tummy. Randolph let go and the whole dress slipped off Sam and flopped wetly onto the grass.
“Oops we mustn’t get grass stains on your white dress, step away would you Sam?”
Sam stepped to one side and Randolph bent to pick up the dress. As he slowly rose his eyes travelled up her brown shins, past her knees and up her thighs to where they joined and were covered by damp and rather transparent panties. He paused, he could see through the thin wet material and easily discern her little patch of fair pubic hair. Little, because it was carefully tidied to form a modest covering to her slit. Being wet it did not do this effectively and her slit was very clearly visible on her mons veneris. The tip of his tongue moved across his lips, he was going to enjoy stroking the fair curls and exploring further. Randolph’s journey carried him on upwards past her flat tummy with its little recessed tummy button, her prominent breasts with the quite large pink aureole showing through her wet bra, until he was standing once more looking at her relaxed, almost vacant, face. He stepped back and admired the tall girl now clad only in her wet white panties and bra.
“That’s better, now let’s get you really dry, Sam.” He began to stroke the towel across her shoulders and down her chest across her bra. He rubbed down the sides of her rib cage over the corrugations of her ribs catching patches of wetness. “Now, Sam, raise your arms, there’s a good girl.”
Sam obediently raised her arms up above her head. This had the effect of pulling up her breasts, flattening them a little under the damp material of her bra. Randolph was disappointed but not surprised to see carefully shaved armpits. He would have preferred to see little blond curls. He preferred the ‘au naturelle’ but he was not complaining. He dabbed under her arms, “Sam, that doesn’t tickle does it?” He asked, “I bet it does just a little.”
Sam giggled, “Yes it does ...a little.” She laughed opening her mouth and showing her pretty white teeth. She wriggled making her breasts move.
Randolph’s penis was hard, very hard, in his trousers. He took a deep breath and made his next move. “Sam your bra is soaked, I need to hang it up to dry with your dress, you won’t want it all wet and cold will you? It would be better if I took it off and hung it up to dry, shall I take it off?”
Sam looked momentarily concerned, Randolph smiled re-assuringly, “It really is very wet and you’ll get cold, let me take it off. Shall I?”
Sam sucked her bottom lip under her front teeth as if thinking. Then the look of concern dropped from her face and she nodded.
Randolph went round behind Sam again, he put the towel over his shoulder and took one side of the back bra strap in each hand and eased first one hook out of its eyelet, then the other. He released his hold on the strap and, now undone, the bra fell a little forward. Randolph ran the towel all the way up Sam’s back drying the skin previously hidden under the wet strap and then slid it slowly up her back bone from her panties to her neck. The desire to run his tongue up her backbone and feel the bumps of her vertebrae on his tongue was still very strong. He resisted and taking hold of Sam’s shoulders once again turned her to face him, his eyes instinctively dropping downwards to the much greater valley now exposed between the two bra cups. It was nearly hanging free. The smoothness of her skin and the gentle curve out of the valley towards the still covered nipples was exciting and beautiful. With both hands he took hold of the shoulder straps and lifted the bra free. Now, no longer obscured by any material, he could see Sam’s breasts completely clearly. Firm, round and brown. There was no sign of a difference in skin colour caused by a bikini top.
“You sunbathe topless?”
“When I can.”
The coldness of the rain had had an effect on Sam’s quite large pink aureole, the nipples, particularly the left one, stood prominent and hard. Randolph overcame an urge to squeeze it between his lips and feel its hard resistance before encouraging the right to match its fellow. He ran the towel slowly down the valley between Sam’s breasts picking up little water droplets standing on her smooth skin. The passage of the towel pushed the breasts slightly to either side and there was just a hint of a wobble. Randolph sucked in his breath. He drew the towel to the left under Sam’s breast then upwards so that the towel dried under her breast but lifted it bringing the hard nipple a little closer to his face. His tongue touched his upper lip as he thought of licking the hard nipple. Very slowly Randolph pulled the towel up Sam’s breast and over the nipple.
“Oooh,” said Sam.
“All right?”
“It tickles.”
“I expect it does but it’s getting you drier.”
“Yes, drier.”
Randolph rubbed the towel over the right breast but using his whole hand between the towel and her skin so he could feel the firmness, the fullness between the open palm of his hand and the towelling. He longed to take both breasts in hand, in his naked hands. But the time was not yet ripe.
“Better,” said Randolph and he wiped the towel down Sam’s tummy. He squatted in front of her and began to dry her legs. He rubbed her legs below the knees briskly watching the towel catch the faint blond hairs slicked against her skin, then pull them one way then the other before, now dried, they sprang up and away from her skin. With the back of his hand he stroked them.
He looked at her knees. Knees, he thought, are a much-neglected erotic object. He knew some people got very excited about feet, about toes, about erotic manipulation using toes and feet. Breasts, bottoms, penises, pudenda, the mons veneris, lips, but never knees. The subtle rounding of the skin over the patella, the way it could be moved under the skin of a relaxed knee, the valley behind the knee with its hollow, its dimple. He’d come in the valley of many girls’ breasts but never, he thought, clasped in the crook of a knee.
Randolph dried Sam’s knees. “You have very pretty knees you know.”
“Pretty knees? Me? Ooh, that tickles!”
Randolph was drying the backs of her knees. He started to draw the towel up the back of Sam’s thighs. His gaze rose higher and he looked straight at the join of her thighs, which was inches from his face, the little curly hairs distinct through the transparency of her white panties.
“Open your legs a bit, Sam.”
Sam did as she was told.
Randolph carefully stroked the towel up the smoothness of her inner thighs inching slowly upwards from her knees to where the distance between her thighs narrowed to perhaps a couple of inches, then just an inch. The towel moved a little bit further and touched the material of the white panties.
“You know, Sam, your panties are as wet through as your bra, so much rain, they need drying too. I’ll take them off. Would you mind if I did that? You do need to get dry don’t you.”
“Yes off, I need to get dry.”
Randolph put down the towel. Outside the rain had stopped and the sunshine was returning. As if a light had been switched on the tent suddenly brightened, the canvas changing from a grey white to golden beige. Randolph slipped two fingertips into the waistband of the panties on either side of Sam’s hips, pulling at the elastic. He paused; savouring the moment, then began to pull downwards. The material rolled a little over itself either side and then the whole waistband began to move downwards. Randolph kept his eyes on the waistband at the front. A thin band of white skin appeared, Sam, he established, sunbathed with her bikini bottoms on. He had wondered. A slight indentation ran around Sam’s waist, made by the elastic of the panties digging in a little. He pulled them a little further downwards and a few golden hairs began to appear, wetly slicked down against her skin just as those much smaller leg hairs had been. The top of her slit appeared and began to elongate. He was almost beside himself with desire, a desire to push the tip of his tongue into that little slit and run it downwards. All in good time he thought, all in good time. The material travelled further and Randolph could see, between her partly opened thighs, Sam’s clitoris hood, very moist and pink.
“Thighs together, Sam, so I can take these off.”
Sam was obedient and the panties traveled faster now, down past her thighs, her knees and then she stepped out of them to stand completely naked. Randolph dried her hips. He placed his hands on them and turned her round so her back faced him, his face level with her bottom. He admired her bottom cheeks, two dimples at the top and the interesting separation of the white skin from the brown. Her bikini bottoms were evidently not large. He rubbed the towel across her bottom moving the cheeks, making them wobble a little. He turned her back.
“Open your thighs, nearly done, nearly dry.”
Randolph patted Sam’s curly fair hair. It was still slicked back against her skin but as the towel soaked up the moisture it gained body and rose up to form a soft mound of curls. Randolph took a deep breath and holding just one corner of the towel in his fingers slipped his hand between her thighs and ran it along her labia. Sam shivered.
“Does that tickle?”
“Oooh yes.”
“Is it a nice tickle, do you like that?”
“Oh yes.”
Randolph did it again. Sam wriggled. It felt good.
“Yes, you do like that don’t you? I expect it’s a bit like when your boyfriend touches you? You do have a boyfriend don’t you?”
“Yes, like that.”
Randolph ran the towel lightly between her thighs a few times and then pulled the edge of the towel along Sam’s labia again but this time allowing the tip of a finger to run along beside it, running up between the two lips. Sam was not very dry there.
“I don’t seem to have dried you properly between your legs or... would I be right in thinking that is not the rain at all?”
“Not really the rain.”
Randolph began to stroke Sam, letting his fingers run along the edge of her labia. He could feel the soft folds becoming wetter. They really were very soft and wet to his touch.
“Does your boyfriend like to kiss you there, tickle you with his tongue.”
“Yes, sometimes. I like that.”
“Shall I tickle you?”
There was a hesitation, then “Tickle me please!”
Randolph had been waiting for this. He had overcome any residual resistance. With a smile he put out his tongue ever so slowly and touched Sam just at the top of her slit. He could feel the little curly hairs running across his tongue as slowly he ran it downwards, and his journey was slow, there was no hurry and it was a journey he wished to remember, until the end of his tongue rode up and over the clit hood.
“Ooh.” went Sam.
Randolph moved her legs further apart and let his tongue explore pushing the soft folds to the side, opening them like petals to get at the nectar within. He stirred the liquid warmth and felt Sam respond. He rose and spread the towel across a trestle table.
“Lie down, Sam.”
Sam did as she was told. It was not a very long table and to lie on it Sam had had to draw her knees up and place her feet flat on the wooden boards. Carefully Randolph spread her knees apart exposing her sex. He gazed at the delight before him, the bush of fair curly hairs half obscuring her slit, the little pink clit hood with the tiny (but pleasingly prominent) bud behind, the outer lips decorated with a few tiny fair hairs and the quite lengthy inner lips spread a little to either side, before kneeling and burying his face between Sam’s thighs, savouring the viscous wetness as he pushed his tongue into her and rotated it round and round. Sam squirmed.
With practised technique Randolph excited Sam with little teasing flicks to the clit, slow sensuous drawing of his tongue along the soft folds, penetration by his tongue into her recess—a penetration he intended later to follow up with a longer appendage, one intended for just that purpose; indeed one now fully ready for that task.
“Is that good?” he said.
“Oh yes, so good,” Sam sighed. Her mind filled with the pleasure of Randolph’s tongue, of being exposed and pleasured. She did not think that what she was letting him do was not what she had intended, or would even have thought of doing, when she came to the show; or of what her boyfriend might have thought of the situation could he see her.
“You’re going to come soon, I can feel it. Just like your boyfriend makes you.”
“Yes, come soon, please.”
Randolph stroked the inside of Sam’s thighs with his fingertips, drawing his fingers down closer and closer to her open and wet sex. Her thighs shook slightly and Sam moved them just a little wider, then a bit together again. Randolph played with her sex with his fingers, watching as he moved the soft folds, dipped one, two, then three fingers into her, seeing them disappear before pulling them out and seeing how wet and shiny they had become. He began a slow, orbiting massage of Sam’s clit. Closer and closer his fingers came until, as he touched the little button standing so very obvious—a veritable island in a pool of wetness, Sam came gasping and opening and shutting her thighs as Randolph watched, his fingers at work stirring her pleasure.
He waited, giving Sam space, allowing her to recover.
“What do you do for your boyfriend when he has made you come?”
“Next?”
“Yes, next when he hasn’t come but you have come.”
“Make him come.”
“How do you do that?”
“All sorts of ways.”
“How would you do that now if he had just made you come?”
“With my mouth.”
“You should do that.”
The sun was beating down on the tent and the temperature inside with the flap closed was rising. Sam got slowly off the table, no longer cold and wet but glowing with perspiration and the excitement of sex. Her breasts moved with her breathing as she knelt in front of Randolph, her bare knees on the soft grass crushing it and releasing its scent. She began to undo Randolph’s belt, pulling the leather, releasing the buckle, and preparing to undo his trousers. Randolph looked down at Sam’s blond head. He liked girls to kneel in front of him, he liked to watch their soft lips encircle his cock, draw it into their mouths and excite him with their tongues so he came, filling their mouths with his semen.
Sam undid the trousers and drew down the zip. He waited. Would she pull his shorts down first or reach inside to grasp what she would find there?
Sam pulled them down in one go. As they went they pulled Randolph’s hard cock down with them. Released, it bounced strongly upwards, catching Sam under the chin. It was the first touch of his penis on her skin. He moved it slightly to the side allowing the smooth shiny head to slide along the skin under her chin. She smiled up at Randolph and reached to hold it around its base. Sam leaned back and down as her tongue snaked out ready to play with the rod standing so proudly before her. She began to lick, starting at the base of the cock near his balls, and then running upwards along the ridge until it reached the so sensitive frenum. Sam lingered there. She had done this before, she knew how to pleasure men, she knew how they liked the little strip of skin to be played with and teased by her tongue. Rising further she began to lick around the dome with little small wet licks of her tongue. She pretended to burrow the tip of her tongue in the little hole at the top before her lips took in the top half of the shiny pale pink dome and squeezed it, teeth shielded by her lips. Holding the end between her lips she pulled the penis slowly down to the horizontal giving Randolph a beautiful view of her face and her soft lips around his cockhead. Her eyes looked up at him and he smiled. Very slowly, as she looked up at him, with the intention of displaying wanton eroticism she drew the cock into her mouth, gradually absorbing the head and then the shaft, sliding and disappearing deeper into Sam’s mouth. He stroked her hair. This was excellent, he had not really hoped for such enjoyment for the day.
Sam drew back from her deep acceptance. She began her movement in earnest, riding her lips up and down his shaft, playing with his dome with her tongue on the outstroke. Randolph had planned to take her conventionally but the prospect of coming in her mouth was now too good to resist. In any case he had not dried her clothes yet. Why not come now, have her wait for her clothes to dry and then enjoy her in the traditional manner before sending her on her way?
She knew he was near. She was holding his cockhead completely still between her lips now, just her tongue pulsing up and down right under the frenum, a steady insistent pulsing. He would not be able to take much more. Her wet lips began to move ever so slightly backwards and forwards. Randolph’s scrotum tightened, he tried to hold back, but he was coming, he could not stop, the semen travelling up his shaft and jetting out into Sam’s mouth. The first shot was followed by a second, larger pulse, the hot sticky fluid appearing suddenly in Sam’s mouth, her tongue picking it up and swirling it round his cockhead as yet more semen erupted from the dome’s central hole. Sam swallowed, clearing her mouth as she felt a further pulse shoot into her mouth. The pulsing ceased. Sam gently licked seeking out the last of the semen, which seeped out of the hole. She slowed her tongue and let it rest, waiting for the cock to begin to soften still held in her mouth.
Randolph’s penis began to subside, its efforts over for a time. It was remained in Sam’s mouth. He moved backwards and she playfully held onto it with her lips so that he had to pull it out between her lips. He watched the soft head come out, now partly covered by the protecting foreskin, a dribble of semen, despite Sam’s work, being squeezed out of the end and catching on her lips. He breathed out, that had been something else, an erotic experience to relish, to relive in his mind.
He reached down and pulled on her hands to raise her to a standing position and kissed her lightly on her lips still with the little drop of his semen across them. His tongue flicked across his lips briefly tasting the salty taste of his own semen.
“Well done Sam, you have been a good girl. Now I’m going to hang your wet things up in the sunshine. But you can’t go out yet because you have no clothes on.”
“No, no clothes on.”
“So I’m going to let you out of the back of the tent here. There’s a little patch of grass between the tents where you won’t be seen. You can sunbathe for a while whilst your clothes dry.”
“Yes sunbathe whilst my clothes dry.”
“See, you can lie on your towel. I expect you’ll go to sleep.”
“Mmm go to sleep.”
Randolph watched Sam settle down and then he hung her wet things up on the guy ropes to dry next to her. It would have been better to have hung them at the front but he might have had some strange looks and comments had he done so. A white dress and, moreover, a pretty matching set of a white bra and panties swinging on the guy ropes might not have been what would normally be expected at an agricultural show. He drew the flap at the back of the tent closed and tucked his limp penis away. Randolph re-opened the front of his tent for business and actually had two consultations, which quite absorbed him for an hour or so. A lull in interest due to the main event of the afternoon starting caused him to think it was perhaps time to play with Sam again. Inside his trousers his penis twitched and began to harden, yes he was ready; it was time to close the front flap of the tent.
He looked out of the back of the tent into the little hidden place where Sam was sunbathing. She was lying on her tummy, her beautiful buttocks uppermost, looking most inviting. His penis responded reaching full hardness. He was ready for some more activity.
Sam was asleep. Very gently he whispered, “Are you awake Sam? Have you had a good sleep?”
Sam yawned and sat up. She looked puzzled but dopey.
“I...yes.”
“Remember you got caught in the rain and sought shelter here and I had to get you dry. Your clothes are there drying in the sun.” Randolph pointed.
“Oh yes, I got dry.”
“You’ve been sunbathing and dozing. Are you warm and dry now?”
“Yes, warm and dry.”
“Did you like being in the sunshine sunbathing?”
“Yes I like that.”
“May I join you?”
“Oh yes.”
“Shall I take my clothes off? It would be silly to sunbathe all dressed wouldn’t it?”
“Yes,” Sam giggled, “silly.”
Randolph slipped back into the tent and stripped. When he came out again Sam was lying back down on her towel still on her front, her eyes opened wide in surprise when she saw Randolph standing over her naked and with an erection.
“Sorry Sam, I thought you said it was OK for me to join you and sunbathe.”
“But you’re all...your thing it’s all sticking out and....”
“Sam, now that’s not fair, it’s really your fault. I’m just responding naturally to seeing your body. You do have a sexy body don’t you? You know that.”
“Yes I suppose I have.”
“It’s natural isn’t it?”
“Yes natural.”
“Don’t you like seeing men naked?”
“Well, yes sometimes?”
“What do you like to see?”
“Tight strong bodies I suppose, small buttocks, flat stomachs, I...”
“Do you like looking at men’s cocks?”
“Yes I suppose.”
“Is mine alright?”
Randolph was still standing over Sam, all she could see was his balls and cock jutting over her. She could not see it very well.
“I...”
“May I lie down in the sun?”
“Yes, lie down.”
Randolph bent his knees and settled himself next to her and stretched himself out, lying flat on his back except, of course, for his cock poking up in the air. He glanced sideways at Sam; she had turned a bit towards him and was gazing at his penis. After a bit she got up on one elbow to see it better.
“Is it alright?”
Sam looked at him, “Yes, I think so.”
“Do you want a closer look?”
“Please.”
“You can touch it if you like.”
Sam got up on her knees and bent over him.
Randolph was amused to see her closely examine him. “The power of suggestion,” he thought.
Her fingers encircled the stem and lifted it up from his stomach. She pulled his foreskin up and down a few times as if testing it.
“Is it big enough?”
“Yes it’s nice.”
“Will if fit?”
“Fit where?”
“Where it’s meant to go.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I expect so.”
“Shall we try, I think we’d better just check.”
“I don’t think we should, my boyfriend wouldn’t like that.”
Randolph was surprised. He had not had much resistance from Sam up to now. He did not think it would take much to overcome this.
“But unless we try we won’t know if it fits. I think we had better try and see. You want to check don’ t you?”
“Mmm, yes, better try.”
“Are you wet, will it go in?”
“No I’m not wet.”
“You need to make yourself wet. Lie there and think of naughty things whilst you play with yourself. You need to make yourself lovely and wet so you can push my cock into you. You need to do that don’t you?”
“Oh yes.” said Sam. She began touching her breasts. Randolph watched with great interest and pleasure as Sam revealed the secret ways she excited her own body in bed. The way she pulled on and squeezed her nipples, wetting her fingers with her tongue so they were more slippery. Sam began to wriggle a bit, a little perspiration showing on her face. Her thighs opened and closed as she became more aroused. One hand began slipping down her stomach away from her breasts, whilst the other went to her mouth. Randolph thought she was just licking her fingers again but no, she was pushing them into her mouth and sucking on them as if they were a cock. He wondered how long she had been doing that? Was it a recent thing since she had known men or had she, even as a young girl, just flowering into womanhood thought such things alone in her virginal bed and dreamt of slipping a cock between her lips?
Her fingers were now between her legs, stroking and teasing, pulling and poking, rubbing and flicking. Randolph sat up to watch closer, to admire the expertise of her finger work.
“Tell me when you are ready to try, ready to see if my cock will go in.”
Sam opened her eyes, “Oh yes, of course, I was nearly coming all on my own.”
“What were you thinking of?”
Sam blushed, “Oh my thoughts, my usual thoughts, silly thoughts.”
Randolph lay down.
“Are you going to climb on me Sam?”
She climbed onto him, a knee either side of his thighs, her wet sex hovering over Randolph’s cock. He could see it was wet, the little hairs either side of her sex were glistening in the sunshine. It was going to slip very easily over his cock. He took hold of Sam’s breasts and fondled and squeezed them.
“In your own time Sam, see if my cock will go in. We want to make sure.”
Sam seemed to hesitate. “You do want to know don’t you? It will worry you if you don’t find out. You’ll keep thinking about it. Best to find out now. It’ll take your worry away.”
Sam frowned, “I don’t think my boyfriend would like it.”
“Yes he would. He would want you to be sure. He wouldn’t want you to worry would he?”
“No, not to worry.” Sam reached under herself and took hold of Randolph’s penis and pointed its head at her sex, aimed it at the moist entrance to her vagina. “Yes,” she said emphatically, “I need to see if it will fit.”
Sam lowered herself as Randolph watched, a half smile on his face. His penis head touched the soft folds, he could feel and see the contact being made and then the penis began to disappear inside Sam. Slowly as she descended the glans, the shiny purple pink dome at the top of his cock began to shorten until it was gone and then the shaft too with its sinuous veins. It seemed to grow shorter, stumpier as Sam pushed down absorbing it into her wet vagina. Randolph glanced up at the look of concentration on Sam’s face.
“Does that feel good, does it fit?”
“Oh yes, big, but it is going in. I think it will fit.” As she said this Sam came to rest, Randolph’s dark curly hair mixing with her own fair curls; it was no longer possible for Randolph to see his cock, it was completely hidden within Sam.
“What are you going to do now, Sam? Are you going to ride?”
“I know it fits. My boyfriend wouldn’t...”
“But it would feel good to ride wouldn’t it Sam. You would like that. You’d enjoy it. Go on!”
Instinctively Sam began to ride Randolph’s cock. As Randolph knew in her present state there was little resistance to suggestion. Her thighs pushed her hips upwards drawing herself away from Randolph and releasing the cock, but only in part, before pushing down to enjoy that lovely feeling of a cockhead sliding up her wet vagina, pushing it open, widening it to allow the passage of the acorn shaped head up into her body. The action was repeated again and again but gradually getting faster. The friction, the transmitted pullings and stretchings, to say nothing of Randolph’s work on her breasts was having its effect, taking her towards what would be the third climax of the day for, though Randolph did not know this, her boyfriend had already served her in bed that very morning. The effect on Randolph was not any less pleasurable but it was Sam who came first gasping and shaking her head from side to side.
“Oh,” she said, “my, I, oh...”
She rested.
“There’s a good girl, no lie on your back and I will finish the task. May I come inside you, would you like that?”
Sam pulled off Randolph; his penis dropped back against his stomach, hard and glistening with Sam’s wetness, “No, you mustn’t come inside me, my boyfriend...”
“Is becoming a bit of a pain,” thought Randolph.
“You’re a good girl, Sam, it wouldn’t do to leave me like this, would it?” Randolph pointed at his hard wet cock.
“Well, I suppose...”
“It wouldn’t be fair or kind would it? You like to be fair and kind. Your boyfriend likes you to be fair and kind doesn’t he?”
“Yes fair and kind. I am a good girl!” Sam smiled brightly and rolled onto her back and opened her thighs in invitation. Randolph looked at the swollen lips and pink wetness set off by Sam’s fair curls. What a wonderful afternoon this was proving to be.
He did not need to hurry and Randolph took his time. It was such a pleasure to lie upon Sam, squashing her a bit with his weight and to slip, very slowly, his cock into her and feel her raise her legs and lock her ankles over his back pulling him to her, ensuring the connection was maintained. He began the pistoning movement, but again slowly, feeling for his pleasure knowing Sam had already come. He brought himself to the brink and rested. He began again and once more found himself on the edge; he paused, savouring that feeling of being just about to come but not quite there yet. A feeling a man likes to maintain but ordinarily only feasible when he is in total control, when he is in hand so to speak. Randolph was in control but, even so, he was unable to resist the temptation for long and he stroked once too often and with a gasp felt himself beginning to come. Sam felt the hot splashings deep within her and smiled happily knowing she had been a good girl.
Randolph lay on Sam feeling his penis grow limp and enjoying the feeling of being with and in Sam, her warm slightly damp body beneath him and the hot sun on his back. With a sigh he pulled himself away and stood up.
It was time to end it. “Sam, it’s been lovely having you in my tent but it’s time for you to go, your clothes are all nice and dry now. You can put them on.” He handed her the clothes one by one and they had indeed dried beautifully in the sun. He watched Sam dress, sorry he was going to have to let her go, dressing himself at the same time. She adjusted her dress and smoothed it down before putting her hat back on. Randolph patted her bottom through the material of the white dress and her white panties.
Randolph undid the tent flap. “You’ll be alright now Sam, it’s sunny again and you are all dry. Just a little thing. Look me in the eyes, yes, now you are to forget everything that went on in this tent and out in the little sunny place at the back. Everything. It didn’t really happen. All you will remember is the rain, the pouring rain and coming in here to shelter and a nice man, that’s me, gave you a towel to help you dry and a drink. Now having sat for a time in the sun you’re all dry and can go out and enjoy the rest of the show. It has been lovely meeting you Sam, I do hope I’ll have the pleasure again. Goodbye Sam.”
Sam smiled, turned and walked out into the sunshine. It was very hot and bright. There was a lot of noise and people about as she made her way to the ring. As always she was admired as she walked past. Such a pretty girl in such a pretty white dress. The men still turned to look at her and thought thoughts they perhaps should not have done. The show seemed to be coming to a close which did seem a little early to Sam. Still, she was lucky it was not raining anymore. Wasn’t it nice of that man to help her and give her a drink, she frowned; she could not quite remember what the drink was. She shrugged her shoulders thinking that getting wet on hot sunny days did not really matter as the sun soon dries things: which is quite different from getting soaked in the winter. She touched her dress—it was bone dry, but, she reasoned, of course some clothes took a little longer to dry on one even on a hot sunny day. Her panties, her matching white panties between her legs, for instance, still felt rather wet.