by snaps » Sun Oct 17, 2010 8:36 pm
I've been thinking about the story all day. Can't really commit to keyboard yet, it's too complicated, but fun too. It's like when you have one of those dreams that haunts you the next day. Like coming down from a trip or sumthin. Everything just seemed so real, but it was just so overpowering of the senses.
We met in the outdoor arena. A posh name for a building of weatherboard and corrugated iron roofing. I know I felt a bit ashamed cause when I met her I was wearing my old leather bomber jacket and the horses like to chew the cuffs, and skanky jeans, and I must stink of horse sweat and saliva to an outsider. Rebecka smelled fresh and spicey of pine needles and salty sea breezes. Even now, if I breathe in and close my eyes and concentrate, I can still savour that flavour.
She was just so nice to me, and like in a dream I couldnt get the words out, but she nodded politely and cracked me up by smiling, and I knew on the inside she must be laffing her socks off at me. She reassured me even though I was being klutzy and pretending not to be starstruck.
But when her arm brushed against me I went all static, all the feint little hairs on me, and being a ginger I am not ape-like, sort of sparked in crackling electricity, but she smiled at my embarassment as if she knows she regularly has this effect on people. I covered up my hot flushing blushing by saying I was overheated through exercising the horses, and peeled off my jacket. She grinned as if knowing this was horseshit I was saying.
I noticed she was staring at my chest and her eyes opened wide like saucers. I looked down and bloody hell! my sweatshirt is stuck to my chest and my nips are standing to attention like thimbles. She laughed and I had no choice but to join in, like I meet her everyday on a regular basis like an annoying but intimate schoolfriend. She threw me a towel off the stand rail.
''Well?'' she said, postured and posed, taking the piss outta me. ''Do you want me to turn round while you towel off?'' I grinned in dumb fashion (the only defensive pose I know). Catch an eyeful missy, I thought as I pulled my T-shirt off over my head. This time, it was her turn for eyes-out-on stalks. Being a ginger, my small but serviceable tits do end in a promontories of pink icing surmounted by glacé cherries.
‘Mmmmm’ she stuttered, starting to lose her Scandinavian cool. ‘I’ve had a long trip over here’. Yeh, like 50 miles from Stratford-On-Avon I thought, unconvinced. ‘Maybe we both could do with a shower?’ she suggested. I pointed to the girl’s shower stalls adjacent to the riding arena. ‘It’s basic, but then so am I’ I grinned.
We weaved our way over to the changing area, she stretched her arm up to place a delicate hand over my shoulder, as I am a string bean and she is smaller than my favourite doll. My left hand slid down her combat pants, patted her behind, full but firm, like I’d always imagined ….
Then I woke up! (That is untrue but it’s as far as this story goes!)