At Last! Progress!
He leaned into the ramp and stretched out to her, pushed her feet higher, and held her feet steady as she took the pressure of her clothes off herself (he was staring up at her, between her legs the whole time, as she could see with considerable alarm, though there was nothing she could do about it), allowing her to struggle, indecorously, to undo the straps to her skirt caught up under arms as he continued to stare at her down there. Her breasts were even more exposed beneath the waist of her skirt as she struggled to do that, getting flustered, losing track of other things she should have been more careful about, opening herself up even more to being admired in delicate other places, gently framed with feminine foliage.
With any luck her bra may let go at the same time as her skirt.
His thoughts were too obvious.
She struggled. Her straps were cutting into her under her arm, while the waist of her skirt was tight under her breasts and murdering her. Her panties had also relaxed once they were freed from under her, but at least they were held tight between her labia, but there was nothing she could do about those, and she could no longer feel them pulling at her. She was not even sure where they were at that moment, but hoped they had not been left lower down on the ramp as she'd backed up it.
She was relieved to find that her bra had not come undone. At least with him holding her feet steady, she would not slip and suffer any worse injury. And all of the time he would be able to see her, stare up at her there, and see maybe even more, as she turned and then backed down that ramp toward him with his help. Only god would know the state of her panties at that moment. God, and him!
He let her back down toward him a few inches at a time, mesmerized by what he could see as she got closer to him. He would be able to kiss her there when she came down another foot. If he dared.
“Are you still holding onto your skirt?”
“Yes.” She had already come down about three feet with his help, taking small steps of no more than six inches at a time, and she would not be able to hang onto her skirt for much longer.
“Then stop for a moment, please, and I will hold both of your feet against my forearm.”
She would not ask, why? It sounded necessary. She stood still and then stiffened up and gasped as she felt his free hand do something behind her. Touching her. She could feel his warm breath in the same place too.
She was startled by what he did, but could say nothing. He had run a finger around the leg of her panties on both sides, and had firmly pulled them free of her vulva, but had touched her and some hair in the process! He might also have given them a bit of a 'tug'.
The devious sod!
Her panties, now loosened, were in danger of dropping from her, now that they had been freed from being trapped, and she could do nothing about it. He’d done that deliberately, and had even pulled at them, starting them on another journey! One she could do nothing about at that moment.
He said nothing, and nor dare she, but he continued to let her descend, without further trespass that she knew about as he talked her down, no doubt seeing everything he wanted to see. She would say nothing, but her thoughts were in full flight. She could feel that her panties were descending just a little faster than she was as she moved, and there was nothing she could do about it with her still holding onto the last of her skirt.
He took her by surprise again near the bottom, and after she'd let go of her skirt, when she felt his arm go around her body just under her breasts, sliding up under her blouse with his muscular and hairy forearm lifting under her breasts. His other hand was lifting behind her knee and upper thigh. She had no idea where her panties were at that moment. They could be at her knees, or may already have fluttered to the ground with his help. He touched her warm, bare skin with his own.
They both ignored it. At least she was almost down. He lifted her the rest of the way, pulling her closer into his own body and put her slowly to the ground. Too slowly.
She felt more than just him, behind her, but that other entity in his shorts as he slid her down his body, his other hand sliding up her leg to her panties (so she still had them), checking them again, and even pulling them up on her, when his male instinct was to let them drop to her knees or her ankles, or help them do so. He turned her to face him with his hand on her bare waist as she clutched at them. He was still too close to her. He had intense eyes and he was smiling at her.
Without him holding her she might have collapsed.
“Well, we got you down safely.”
Did he have to be so close to her, or so... so... handsome?
Except he’d touched into her panties… and… and had touched her personally in that hair... and…. She’d say nothing of that, yet.
Her panties were still loose and in danger of coming off her, as he’d discovered. The top and legs had been stretched by her ordeal. She grabbed at them again and held them up, but there was also her bra, demanding attention, and her blouse to pull down and refasten.
She felt herself blushing, but resisted pushing him away from her. She'd have to let go of something to do that!
He was strong. He was also still aroused (she could feel that), and he was looking closely into her face, into her eyes, as though he was about to say something to her. He was also smiling in a peculiar way.
He’d better not try and kiss her or she'd... she'd... what?
She blushed even more, ignoring that other embarrassing and frightening aspect of him that she could feel pushing against her. She should try to ignore it.
Her relief was obvious. He was good-looking, soft-spoken too, and had a nice smile, except he seemed ready to kiss her. Did he expect a reward, or more? She should get out of here fast once she got her skirt back.
“Can you stand easily enough, or does it hurt too much?”
“I can stand.” She had a lot more to do than just stand. Everything needed adjusting, and he would have to back off, to let her do that.
“Okay, then I shall get your skirt. Don’t rush off anywhere will you?”
He was a joker! She would never dare go back to the school looking like this and without her skirt. She watched him swarm up the side of the barn wall just as she and her friends had done, and then he came over to the ramp to free her skirt from the edge. His legs were better muscled than hers were, and his arms were strong too, like those of a farm laborer. It was sobering to realize that he had picked her up without any difficulty. She'd been wrong about him.
Yes, the sod was aroused because of her. She excited him.
Now she really was curious about him.
He squatted as he reached for her skirt, to free it. It was a wonder his shorts did not split with what so clearly lay behind them there. A weapon of war! A siege cannon!
He’d better not do a header down the ramp or they would both be in difficulties.
As he did that, distracted for a few moments, she pulled the bottom of her bra to cover her breasts properly, and brought her blouse down to cover them, then checked the state of her panties again. At least she still had them on. Mostly.
She hoisted them from half way to her knees before he noticed they were at half-mast, except he’d already seen too much about her, explaining his sobering condition. That... that... horn colic (she'd heard it described in that phrase from yesteryear in one of her English Classes with that progressive teacher) was definitely not something a girl should become too aware of so soon.
She also recalled an earlier shocking passage from Shakespeare, about 'Pistol's cock is up, and flashing fire will follow'. It was good for a shocking laugh from the class of stunned girls, but had not meant what everyone thought it did; about 'Pistol's cock' being 'up' where it needed to be; in one of them, and that 'flashing fire' was when he 'came' explosively, or ejaculated.
Or maybe it did.