Free Country Pleasures by Primula Bond

setting a taper to a candle; she was smouldering from her feet upwards.
    â€˜What am I doing?’ he groaned, his mouth sliding sideways. ‘I only meant to bring you out of the rain, I only meant to look at you, then send you on your way. Tell me to stop, and I’ll –’
    â€˜Don’t stop. Don’t dare stop,’ she hissed, nuzzling against his mouth. ‘It’s been too long, and it’s only a kiss. We’re adults, and we’re enjoying it. Pretend it’s your droit de seigneur if it makes you feel better.’
    He rubbed his lips across hers. ‘It does. Though I’m not exactly the Lord of the Manor, and you’re not exactly Little Bo-Peep. I mean, look at you.’
    â€˜I’m not Bo-Peep, I’m a brazen hussy, caught stealing by the master.’ Janie grinned. ‘You have to touch me, and see.’
    They were enclosed in the darkness. Everything suddenly felt wicked and dangerous. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to find her way out of the rickety barn even if she wanted to. His face was a pale oval in front of her. Hers must look the same to him, thought Janie, especially as he had taken off his glasses. There was no point wasting time staring at each other in the dark. When he didn’t reply, or move, she wriggled backwards onto the hay bale and lay down. He remained kneeling, so she reached up and pulled him down on top of her.He hesitated, then let himself sink down. He took her arms, and held them above her head. The hay tickled and dug through her shirt, so she raised her spine off the bale to escape the prickles. Her breasts arched towards him in an open invitation.
    He gazed down at her, silently biting his lips. His nostrils were flared with the effort of trying to breathe calmly. He was straddling her now, heavy on her legs. One hand held her arms down while the other started to massage her shoulder where it had left off before, then, at last, it moved down her chest in a slow circle to reach and take hold of one of her breasts. He rubbed his hand under her arm and down the side of the soft mound, pushing it into the centre and letting it fall back again, feeling its weight against the palm of his hand. Janie’s breath came in shallow gasps as she lay there, taut with anticipation. She feared that if she breathed out he would vanish in a puff of smoke. She tried to spread her legs a little to ease the excruciating delight building up inside her. He shifted his buttocks and pressed down on her, still pinning her down. Through the thin material of her trousers she could feel the thick outline of his cock contained within his blue jeans. It jutted right up inside her thigh, nudging against the cleft of her pussy, but for now she wanted to concentrate on the circling motions of his hand, fingers digging into the malleable flesh of her breast, increasing in strength and tempo as their joint breathing grew heavier.
    â€˜I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to,’ he murmured. ‘Your breasts. They’re so juicy, so welcoming. A real woman’s shape. I always wondered how they would feel.’
    She strained upwards to catch what he was saying,but again she heard the door rattling in the wind. It was warm and quiet in the barn, and she had forgotten the storm. The air rushed through the crack in the door like hushed voices.
    â€˜Go on, feel me, feel how big they are,’ whispered Janie, feeling suddenly bold. She pulled his other hand over her neglected breast and arched her back so that everything was thrust towards him. He rubbed the palms of his hands in widening circles, over the top of her shirt, letting the fabric join with his fingers in massaging her flesh then, pushing the tits together roughly, he gathered them up in his hands, so that they billowed over the edges. His strong farmer’s grip crushed them in his fists so that the pain radiated into pleasure. He kneaded them roughly, then drew his thumbs