Tales Told out of School. 9: A Fell-top Miss-Adventure.

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Learning more about each other.

Peter came back about four o’clock as he’d suggested he would, getting rid of his boots and socks in the conservatory and leaving his pack with them.

“Something smells good.” He was obviously glad to be back with her.

He took Sheila into his arms; hugged her and kissed her, then stepped back and admired her in her coveralls, and with faint smudges of paint on her hands. He moved a few errant hairs from her face as he leaned in to kiss her again in a more prolonged way as she moved closer into him, relieved to find that nothing had changed between them; feeling that no ground had been lost by his short, though seemingly interminable absence from her. She could feel that he still wanted her.

“I am so glad to be back. You can have no idea how I missed you today.”

She did. She’d felt the same way, looking at the clock the entire time after Annie had gone, and she began to get impatient and to worry about him.

“I missed you too, Peter. The house was empty without you.”

“You’re moving around better too, Sheila. I should go and shower and get these clothes into a wash. It was too hot a day to wander the fell in all that heat. Tonight, will be a warm night too. You can sit with me while I shower if you like, and we can talk.

“Would it bother you if I stripped off down here and got things into the wash first?”

She smiled and shook her head.

Nothing about him would bother her now. “No. We are alone, so why should we be shy with each other? We weren’t so shy this morning when you kissed me, and then examined me for splinters everywhere, and when we did so much more.” He hadn’t been shy then. He had even tied a small white fragment of cloth into that cord coming out of her as a signal of his surrender, if not hers, after he had baptized her on that very place with his ejaculate. She had moved it to the cord of a new tampon when she’d changed only a few minutes before he came home. He would need to see that, and soon would.

She began to set the table for their dinner as he went into the back area and stripped off, dropping his things into the washer, except he had to return to the conservatory for his socks, hoping that no one would be walking by to see him naked, and as hard as a lance as he went out there to retrieve them.

He knew that she watched everything he did; and the thought excited him that she could not help still being curious about him in a cautious kind of way, just as he was insatiably curious about her and her body, bringing him to life whenever she was close to him and especially now that he was with her again.

Just thinking about her as he had wandered the Fell, had been stimulation enough. He’d been distracted all day and couldn’t get his mind back to what he should be doing. The day had dragged by with him aching to get back to her, and to continue where they had left off. He had other things he wanted to do and to know about.

She blushed and smiled, seeing him like that, and then he headed for the stairs; that part of his bouncing stiffly as he moved.

He started the shower and climbed in, seeing that she joined him in the bathroom soon after that to sit and talk to him, able to see everything about him, even indistinctly through the shower curtain.

It felt good that she wanted to be close to him, even the way he was.

Understanding him better and knowing that she was loved and that he would never deliberately hurt her, would always help.

She spoke over the noise of the water. “Annie came over this afternoon with something for our dinner and a few things for tomorrow. We had a long talk.”

He let her continue as he soaped himself down.

“Annie guessed almost everything happening between us. I may have told her too much, with her questioning me the way she did, but I needed to talk to someone, and she was asking. I couldn’t tell her to mind her own business.”

He laughed as he washed the soap off and then began on his hair, responding to her.

“Annie already knew. She read me like a book when I was checking out of the Inn, and saw everything in my haste to come back here.

“She gave me a bit of a talking to, telling me to remember who I was and how nice a girl you were, and how vulnerable you were. Was I that obvious?” He answered his own question. “Yes, I was. It’s a good job she can’t see me now, or you.”

She stood up and took the soap from him to wash his back where he couldn’t easily reach for himself.

Doing that, made her breathless. His body was hard all over, and not just that…part, though that was hard in a different way and for a different reason; to do with her.

Soon she would have courage to do even more to help him. She needed to see him again, all of him just as he was, and as intimidating as he sometimes appeared, and to learn all that she could about him as soon as possible. She still had questions.

That morning she had been face down on her bed as he had searched for splinters as he knelt over her, also naked, touching… setting her squirming and squealing. He had touched her with that, too, between her legs. When he’d turned her over to her back, she had kept her eyes mostly closed. The sun had been in her face, but that hadn’t been the reason. He’d touched her then too, and with that, but she didn’t need to see it, and she’d trusted him not to go into her, though he would have had to take that tampon out first. A lot had happened then.

Her education had been sadly neglected where boys and men were concerned.

This, between them; this ritual, was a natural progression between two people who were in love.

He was becoming less of a concern to her as time went by, now that she knew she was loved and was in love herself, and that she could trust him to be gentle and to move slowly… and this was, slowly, compared to what it could have been… as she learned who he really was.

“Annie thought I should tell my mother about us as soon as possible, but I’m not sure what I dare tell her.”

There was already too much for a mother to hear at a distance of a few thousand miles, and knowing that no matter what she did to get back home, she would always be too late.

“Do you want me to talk to her?” It was an innocent enough question. “I could answer the phone tonight when she calls. She should know about me. I’d be very diplomatic and gentle in what I’d tell her, about me helping you off the fell, and then helping with the calves and chickens. About us. I wouldn’t say anything more incriminating than that, or tell her that I’d stayed the night, or which bed I was in... dreaming of... plotting about making love to her vulnerable and enchanting daughter.”

She laughed nervously.

As diplomatic as Peter might intend to try to be, it would be way too much for her mother to hear. Sheila could see how that would work out, not going as anyone would expect or like, with what he was likely to let slip and say. Telling her mother anything at all would be asking for trouble.

What a place to be having this conversation! She rinsed her hands off as he turned to her and she saw everything she had shied away from seeing that morning.

She closed her eyes and talked. “You’d better not answer it, Peter! She’d know everything when she talked to me after that, and the way I was evading all of her searching questions, and they would all be very searching. Mothers always do know these things, and she would have to talk to me, or she would wonder what you had done with my body.” She opened her eyes. He was still there, and he was smiling at her.

“I would never choose to discuss that with her so soon, my love, and I will never have done enough with your body even if we'd had years working on that delightful project. It will always be a work in progress.”

Sheila giggled. “She would want to know, would insist on knowing, what you were still doing here this late in the evening, and did you not have a home to go to? And that would just be the beginning of it. She may keep me on the phone all night just to be sure that nothing would happen while she got everyone close to here organized to come over and rescue me.”

She sighed. “No. I don’t think you talking to her would be wise. She’d never rest after that, wondering what we were not telling her, what we were doing, and I would not rest either, wondering about how she would worry for me when she has no need to.

“No, Peter, I’ll tell her, but in my own good time. And not yet. What she doesn’t know, or doesn’t find out, can’t harm me. Or her. Or you.”

He turned off the water, wiped his hands firmly over his body to get rid of the excess water, and grabbed a towel as he stepped out of the shower, beginning to dry his hair.

She started drying his body with another towel; her closeness bringing more life back into him again as he turned, for her to dry his front, letting her see him in all of his glory; standing out, and standing-to-attention just for her to appreciate and to get used to.

She was able to see more of him now, and even closer, as she dried his legs. He had a lot of hair around that item of his. That part was directly in front of her face, bouncing with a life of its own as it had this morning, and was strangely fascinating to her. It was just as big and intimidating as she remembered. She wondered if she should address it as, 'sir'.

No, she wouldn’t dare to think of drying it for him, not considering that happened this morning when it had erupted all over her. And she had barely touched him then.

Was there enough room in her body for all of that? She would never be sure until it happened.

Thank god she’d got a temporary reprieve by being as she was.

Her period was a mixed blessing for them both; buying her some time, and hopefully, would stop everything going too far off track, too soon, as she put her mind to what exactly would happen between them when she 'finished', except she had much more to learn about what would happen before they got that far with each other. She needed to get her mind around that, considering what she could see of him that still unnerved her.

When he put his towel aside, she moved into his arms and held him, conscious of him against her as he had been that morning. He slid his hands into the sides of her coveralls, knowing what he would find. She had no bra on, just a man’s close-fitting sweat shirt. One of her father’s.

They kissed again as his hands rose to her breasts. She felt that he became harder just by touching her.

One day, very soon, she would have courage enough to touch him fully, properly; hold him firmly as she wanted to. But she shouldn’t torment him while she was not available.

He could see she was apprehensive, even nervous, seeing him as he was, but he understood.

“Dinner’s ready when you are, Peter. You should get dressed, but you’ll have to let me go, first.”

She helped him as he’d helped her, after he’d got her out of that bath the first evening, surprising herself at what she dared do around him, helping him dress, learning more about him all of the time. He had an appendicitis scar. She kissed him there.

He reached out and touched her by her face.

“Please don’t be scared of me, my little love. Nothing will happen between us without your say-so and approval, I can promise you that. You will be able to stop me anytime. You did this morning.”

She’d still be apprehensive, and she wouldn’t want to stop him, and disappoint him. It was a tough problem for her to deal with.

“Come on, Peter. Dinner’s ready, and then I may be able to help you do the calves before we relax.” If she could ever relax until after they had made proper love.

She knew how that interlude with the calves was likely to go after the start they had already made with each other.

There would be no rest for a few days with him the way he was; always eager and intent, and no rest for her either, but it would soon be solved when all of these seeming-difficulties would be put firmly behind her.

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