Necessary introductions. And more.
Peter reached up and touched under her chin, raising her head to look at him again, careful not to go too near her breasts.
“We should introduce ourselves. I am Peter. Peter Walker. I’m doing geology up here for a degree project at university; mapping this entire Fell, before I have to go back into my final year.”
He looked at her. “Now, what about you?”
He leaned forward to hear her.
“Sheila Wheatley…. Biologist, biochemist, botanist, also starting third year at university. I was working on the bog in the middle of the valley, and then decided to do some work on the Fell.”
“Pleased to meet you, Sheila.” He touched hands with her, holding hers so very gently. He wanted to raise it to his lips and kiss it, but didn’t.
His face brightened.
“Me too! More than two years together at the same university and we never met?” He couldn’t believe it.
“How careless and unobservant of me. I wonder how it is that we never met?”
She blushed. “I don’t socialise. I went back to the residence after classes and studied, or played tennis, or swam.”
“But where did you eat your lunch each day?"
“Sometimes in the residence. Mostly in the Refectory by the Student Union building.”
“Me too. I wonder how I could have missed you. You would be impossible for me to ignore if I’d seen you in there.”
He was saying strange things that were somehow comforting, despite what she could sense about him being more interested in her and her breasts than was safe. She stilled that inner warning voice.
“I would have noticed you in there, even in the middle of several hundred people.”
She blushed, pleased to hear him say that about her. There was nothing that special about her, except he seemed to think that there was. If he was being honest. Males were rarely honest. All they wanted was to get into your bra and panties, undress you, and ravish you.
“Now we need to do just a little more as your shirt dries.”
He didn’t wait, or ask her permission, but slowly undid the top of her shorts... giving her chance to stop him, which she didn't... and brought the zip down, pulling the sides apart, revealing delicate underwear. He knew enough not to say anything about his rising excitement.
She did not fight him now.
“I should get these shorts dry too, unless you are going to fight me again.”
He knew she wouldn’t; not after that earlier capitulation and that challenge. They’d gone past that stage, to that of her warily accepting his help.
He was joking. She had to trust him somewhere, and felt ashamed, over her last un-cooperative spell. There was no point in fighting him now.
She did not try to stop him this time, but just closed her eyes. He was not one that would be stopped, and she knew—more a feeling, than knowing—that he did not intend anything awkward with her, even if he was very close to her panties and getting into them.
He put his arm around her just above the top of her shorts, her breasts pushing against his face as his shirt, too big for her, parted from her, lifted her, and then slowly stripped off her shorts, seeing—confirming, thank the lord—that she still had panties on, though he was also mildly disappointed over them not moving down with her shorts.
But that was because of him.
He'd held the top of them up on her between his thumb and first finger of the arm around her, to stop that happening as he slowly took them down, pulling at the bottom of the legs to free them from where they clung to her still-damp legs.
Her thighs were hauntingly smooth, inviting his eyes to travel up them to what he could only regard as a flimsy cover, separating him from heaven itself. He did not stare this time or make any other comments to freeze her up.
Her panties were delicate little things, unlike anything his sisters wore. They preferred something more utilitarian, and effective at hiding them, with a nosy brother around. They also needed longevity in their underwear with four of them fighting over them. Panties of this delicate character made a fashion statement of their vulnerable feminine side, yes, but they would also soon disintegrate with four sisters squabbling about who would wear them next, and washing them all of the time; giving the impression that her sisters were not the most careful with their hygiene, leaving them fearful of picking up some horrendous disease carried by thousands of camels, even from their sisters.
They could be unkinder to each other than they had ever been to him, or than he had been to them. That was when they had come to him more, liking his company over that of their cruel sisters. It had been a surprising change that he had not minded seeing. It also made him more considerate and kinder to them too.
These panties hid too little of her and, being wet, hid even less than too-little. He saw that there was a thin growth of delicate hair behind there, pushing at the lacy fabric, and that there was a faint hint of even more, just visible through the fabric, exciting him with a suggestion of the outline of tormenting feminine structures and of the pronounced lips of her vulva, especially with her panties being pulled into that groove and emphasizing it.
That, shocked him like an electrical current jangling at his nerve ends and sending a shiver up his spine. She was affecting him in ways totally new to him, except Sophia had started him down that path many times, and they'd even completed it too, several times, after a lot of difficult starts, but never with this degree of excitement for him.
He paused: damned male hormones! Sod Sophia!
She wouldn’t know anything about those. He closed his eyes for only a moment as she opened hers to see why he had paused, seeing that he was staring at her; at her panties and all that they did not hide.
She saw that his ears were blushing red and his hands were trembling against her. Was he nervous? Why was he nervous? She, was the nervous one.
She could not know how much he wanted to reach out and touch her there; to sense the raised ridges of those lips that he could see pushing against the fabric, and the groove of her vulva between them as he discovered all of that about her. Or he could just pull the top of her panties forward from her and turn them down her body to expose all of it, so that he could see, as well as to touch and feel for himself, everything about her, even closer, and more personally. Even to kiss.
He teased her shorts the rest of the way down her legs and off her, marvelling that he was actually being allowed to do this for her. He’d dreamed about it enough with other girls as he took their panties down in his mind... (except for cousin Sophia’s panties, which she had been eager to get rid of all by herself, if she hadn't already got rid of them, and then she got started on his underwear. They could get started on playing another more serious game with each other as she'd intended they would, every time she came over to visit with her mother. Sophia knew what he would be bringing to this particular fight, with him already being erect, and her knowing all about that, and with the play becoming ever more serious, thanks to her).
However, he wasn’t taking this one’s panties down, or off, unfortunately. Not yet. He tossed her shorts to join the rest of their clothes. He’d see to them soon enough.
He pulled his shirt sides together; his shirt was big enough on her to give him lots of spare, and he dried off her hips and upper legs, inside and out, as far down her legs as his shirt would reach, being careful not to rub at her legs where they were sore; just dabbing at them.
Raising himself on his knees, he took her into his arms and dried her briskly yet again, by pulling her close to him, rubbing vigorously at her back, and then at her sides, looking into her face from no more than a few inches away, as she looked into his.
She had beautiful eyes and long eyebrows; and her lips…? He faltered in what he was doing, wanting to lean in and kiss them, but fought that urge. There were too many other places he wanted to kiss too, but if he did, he would lose all of that little trust he had painstakingly gained.
At least she didn’t fight him or complain, so that was a plus.
With the sun as it was, she would soon get warm, and her clothes would dry fairly quickly.
Feeling her breasts up against him, and with them moving so rebelliously as he held her and dried her, bringing some warmth back to her, would send him round the bend. It was already affecting him in other ways.
She was nothing like his sisters. She was delicate, sensitive, beautiful, and wonderful! And shy! Yes. Nothing like his sisters.
He moved back from her before she noticed anything else about him. They didn’t need that complication clouding the picture and sending her off into hysterics.
“My shorts are drying fast on that rock, and we can get those on you next while I get yours dry.”
So that was why he had taken his off.
He reached out for them, but they were just out of his reach. Damn! He’d have to stand up, which would likely cause her to drop back into the state of terror she had been in earlier. He was suffering from 'horn colic', an old expression for being aroused; and he was certainly aroused!
She watched as he stood up from her and took the couple of steps to retrieve his shorts from the rock they were drying on, and to wring out her shorts at the same time; putting them, where his had been drying.
Even stooped over, he appeared to be defiantly thrusting himself; that part of him out for the world to see! No hiding that thing! It left her breathless and confused for a moment.
She was able to see what he could not easily hide from her about his condition, having only his undershorts covering him, and not doing such a great job of hiding anything the way they pushed out from his body. She could imagine the rest.
She was not sure about him from one minute to the next!
She closed her eyes, but then opened them again—why should she be shy? He had told her it was undignified and not necessary. If he could ignore his condition, and he had to, so should she.
He wasn’t shy, and he’d convinced her so persuasively that she had no need to be shy either, so she wouldn’t be.
She saw that he was not looking at her but was focusing on seeing to her clothes, trying to shield his body from her until he regained control of himself, if he ever had any control over that part to start with.
There was nothing she could do to get away from him, so she took the opportunity to examine him in his near-naked condition as he moved other clothing around on the rocks, with his back to her to shield her from seeing too much about him.
She had never been able to examine any unclothed male before, and so close, despite that other sobering thing about him. He had a lot of hair disappearing into his undershorts, but very little chest hair, and that male thing… part, was not small either. How had his shorts hidden that?
Why was she no longer as afraid as she had been, but felt more like giggling; nervously?
When he returned to her with his shorts and her shirt which was fairly dry already, using them to hide himself from her, he didn’t try to put them on her, but just placed his shorts beside her as he wrapped her own shirt over and around her legs and began to dry them, as well as her panties, while she was wearing them.
Her panties were thin enough to dry quickly, giving up their moisture easily to her much dryer shirt, even without any movement other than just to hold them against her panties.
She knew everything he was doing, still wary, and still concerned about him, wondering where he would stop. She was also aware that he was having difficulties of his own as he helped her.
How she could be affecting him in this way with them only just meeting she did not know, but that was also the way that men were; always ready to take advantage of any woman. Except he wasn’t trying to take advantage of anything. It was already happening as the clothes came off her, except he was replacing them too.
It was puzzling, but she thought she was beginning to understand.
No. Surely that couldn't be happening to her. Not so quickly!
He tossed her shirt back onto a larger rock slab and lay his shorts across her legs as though to hide all temptation from himself, but did it more for her peace of mind than his.
He sat behind her, sitting on the same rock as her, enfolding her in his arms, with them going around her just under her breasts; doing it slowly enough that she did not struggle against him; feeling her soon relax into him for his warmth and for the comfort he was beginning to provide, with the sun on her front, and his warmth on her back. He could also look down into the front of her shirt this way.
“Thank you.” She really was beginning to relax with him to be able to thank him.
He got up every so often to reposition her clothes to dry on a fresh rock-surface, coming back to her each time. The more he moved them around, the faster they would dry. A few more minutes now.
She saw that his condition had not changed. She could feel it against her when he sat with her, but she had to ignore it, just as he did. She would never dare speak of it.
“Not long now and we’ll have everything dry and you can have your own clothes back.”
That meant that he would undress her again!
She gave up and became resigned to it. She would be a nervous wreck before long if she did not snap out of it.
It was strange being in the arms of a man, this man, and being held as close and as securely as she was being held, and with him aroused (she wasn't sure, but she thought he was aroused. He must be), and her not screaming bloody-murder. This had never happened to her before.
It was becoming less worrisome for her as she became more pragmatic and a fatalist! What next?
What would her mother say when she told her about this?
If she told her.
She’d better get home first, before she began to think of herself as being safe.
He walked away from her and re-arranged all of their clothing again, with his back turned to her, looking back at her every so often.
Then, ignoring her, he stripped off his underwear, leaving himself naked; totally naked, wrung the water out of them, and laid them out on another of those flat rocks heating in the sun, moving them every few seconds to a drier place.