Date: Sat, 20 Jan 2001 16:04:12 -0800 (PST)
From: Glinda Goodwitch <gaspar50@yahoo.com>
Subject: Desires of Rebecca Ch.3

The Desires of Rebecca

by

Olivia Ravensworth

Chapter 3

During the meal-a thick concoction of beans, hearty and dark and exotically
spiced-my benefactors labored to act normally. Though Magda and her younger
brothers could speak passable English, their parents' abilities were
much more limited, and as a consequence they all fell back to speaking
amongst themselves in their own tongue. Yet, even without understanding
their words, I was still able to sense their lingering discomfort Talk
sometimes broke down awkwardly as brothers or parents, suddenly guilty that
I could not enjoy their conversation, lapsed into unnatural silence. All
too soon, however, they would feel the oppression of that quietude and
begin speaking again-their voices neither loud nor soft, trying uselessly
not to call attention to the bond of language which I did not share, yet
also trying not to seem secretive or unfriendly. Though they attempted not
to make me feel more uncomfortable than I already was, they could not help
but worsen my plight I was an outsider, and nothing could change that.

Now and then Magda's mother spoke briefly and solicitously to me in her
fragmented English, but this was a kind of torture as well. I tried to
smile as I gave her the same answers again and again-yes, the soup was most
delicious; no, it was not too hot; a little more in a moment, perhaps, but
not right now, thank you... On and on it went. My heart went out to her,
miserably, for she tried so hard to make me welcome.

And, perhaps just as much, I felt sorry for Magda's father. He had not
relished the presence of an outsider, particularly a young and beautiful
one, and I knew that the situation must have been difficult for him. He
spoke rarely, and he avoided looking in my direction. Yet many were the
times I chanced to catch his silent dark eyes straying across the
fire. Though he tried not to let himself do it, I knew that those
half-lidded black orbs could not help but measure me, appraisingly
...appreciatively He wiped at his mouth more than should have been
necessary, and it was all too easy to imagine what forbidden pleasures this
poor creature craved.

I knew, shuddering, with what secret hunger he would lead his great wife
into the privacy of their wagon that night. He would strip her then,
trembling in his need, until he had bared the dark expanse of her body and
she lay naked before him. Perhaps his arousal would thrill her, too, and
perhaps she would part her solid thighs gratefully, drawing her knees up
about her heavy breasts... Hard though it was to imagine, I knew that some
women must like that.

Would she know the source of his arousal? I wondered. Would she realize as
he pawed her dusky flesh that her mate's coarse hands actually longed for
the delights of firm, high pale mounds they could never fondle-that his
mouth watered for ripe strawberries his lips could never taste? Would she
know what he saw when his leering eyes rolled back in heavy lids? Would she
suspect whose flesh he really craved when the male beast dug his blunt
thumbs into her poor sopping, neglected femininity and he grunted so
animalistically, so intrusively, into her?

Though I blushed to think of it, this was how my mind worked that night I
spooned the thick soup in silence.

After a filling dinner it was time for bed. The sun was going down, and
sight was beginning to fail. All objects beyond the campfire's flickering
ring of light gradually seemed to lose their colors, stones and grass and
trees alike taking on wan shades of grainy gray. Except for the crackling
flames and Magda's quiet, firelit family, the world about seemed strange
and dreamlike as its pleasing colors quickly leached away. In the near
distance the wagons hulked dark and dim. The wind from the forest smelled
lonely and damp.

Already the air was cool against my exposed skin, and I was acutely aware
of my lack of underclothing. The fabric of my dress clung immodestly to my
breasts, while beneath my skirts I was naked and shivering. When I glanced
up, I saw Magda's father look quickly away.

Trying to find some comfort, I looked over to Magda and found her smiling
silently at me in the firelight I smiled shyly back at her.

As the fire burned smokily down, we said our goodnights. Magda's parents
slept in the large wagon and her younger brothers slept in the first cart
behind. Being the eldest child, Magda occupied the last cart in line. At
least, I thought wickedly, I would be far enough away to be spared the
sounds of the hairy male's inevitable brutish gruntings and
strainings. Hugging myself against the chill, I joined Magda and made my
way back to my new friend's canvas-covered accommodations.

Magda climbed in first, and I followed the firm swell of her shapely hips
up into the creaking wooden trailer. There was no lamp, but mine eyes were
slowly adjusting to the darkness, and after a brief hesitation I closed the
canvas flap behind me. Still, inside it was now much darker than outside,
and suddenly I could see nothing. I waited, crouching slightly under the
hooped ceiling.

"Let us change for the night, Rebecca," Magda said quietly. While she spoke
these words, the sound of her voice changed, apparently as she turned her
back I heard the soft, almost seductive rustle of her clothing in the
blackness. "For thee," came her quiet voice, "it must have been a long
day."

"Yes...," I said uncertainly. I bit my lip as I listened to the sounds of
her undressing. My ears discerned the quiet slide of a dress coming off
unseen shoulders and arms, the low swish of undergarments, the intimate
cling of stockings-the little wagon was so small that I fancied I could
smell her then, a faint womanly scent my wondering nose picked out even
among the homey odors of wooden planks and aged canvas. I tried to keep my
teeth from chattering.

My wide eyes grew more receptive by almost imperceptible degrees. Soon
I glimpsed a shadowy form which seemed to hang in the center of the cart,
and as my vision sharpened tantalizingly I came to realize that it was
Magda herself. She was dark and slim before me, merely an outline, yet I
could not take mine eyes from the shape. I relished the long curve from
rounded shoulders to tapering back, from narrow waist to strokable
hips. This Gypsy girl was older than myself, her body well developed and
suggestive. I realized it again, with a trace of envy-and arousal. My heart
throbbed beneath my ribs, but I scarcely dared to breathe.

Then there was movement. My ears caught the sound of Magda's bare feet
shuffling before my eyes registered her motion, and for a moment my brain
could not quite interpret the scanty evidence of my straining eyes. Within
the darkness of her shadowy form were even darker areas ...two smaller
blobs above, and a large splotch below. I stared, puzzled. What ever could
they be? It seemed that nothing I could imagine made any sense. In the
wagon there were no real furnishings but a small mattress, and in the dim
starlight before I had closed the flap I had seen no objects of any kind
hanging from the hoops above us, no lamps, no clothing hung to dry. No,
there were only Magda and me-

My breath caught in my throat at the sudden thought. Could it be? I
wondered. My face felt hot. Yet as my eyesight slowly resolved, I realized
that there could be no other answer. I was staring in the darkness at
Magda's naked body itself. My heart fluttered restlessly beneath my
breasts. She was so close that I could have reached out and touched her as
I crouched there under the arched canvas, but the inside of the cart was so
dark that I scarcely would have recognized the delicious temptation
before me unless I actually had reached forward. Quickly I wondered if it
was too late for me to put out my hands in apparent blindness ....

The two dark circles were the ripe plums of Magda's high young breasts, I
realized dizzily, and the broad shadow below was the fragrant triangular
thatch of hair between her rounded upper thighs. My mouth felt dry as my
vision slowly, slowly cleared. Black tresses cascaded about my friend's
shoulders, and within the sable-haloed smudge of her dusky face I could
just make out her lips. They almost seemed puckered and impudent-but, no, I
thought, that could not be. Perhaps my sight played tricks. Her eyes
glinted mysteriously, liquid black orbs edged with the pale slivers of the
whites. Exotic and enticing, she stood naked and available before my
wondering eyes.

I licked my lips uncertainly. For a long time, it seemed, I simply stared
at her as my vision slowly sharpened. Finally I could be sure of the smile
upon her face, and I realized with a start that she must have been watching
me ...watching her. And I heard that smile curl her lips as she exclaimed
with quiet surprise, "Why, Rebecca, I had forgotten! Thou have no
nightclothes."

I found my voice. "No," I replied awkwardly. "Indeed, Magda, I have none."
Absently I toyed with the top buttons of my dress.

She thought about this for a moment, and I ran mine eyes over her sleek
dark form, smooth and rounded in the darkness before me. She was beautiful
beyond belief. I measured her body appreciatively, thinking what a delight
it would be to caress not only with mine eyes but with my hands as well.

"I am afraid," she replied finally, "that I have only one shift" I tried to
read her expression, but it still was too dark to see anything more than
her strange smile. She could see me, I knew, as well as I could see her,
perhaps even better, because my face and clothing were so light She must
have known I was watching her, yet she made no move to cover
herself. "Perhaps," she added slowly, "neither of us should wear the shift"

"I-I'm not sure I understand," I stuttered. Yet my mind raced ahead,
burning with thoughts I hardly dared to believe were possible. Could she
indeed, I wondered disbelievingly, be a kindred spirit? My hands trembled
at my sides.

"What I mean," added Magda slyly, "is that it would be unfair for one of us
to wear the nightclothes while the other did not"

"I suppose so...," I admitted.

"And it would be most uncomfortable for us to wear our dresses while
sleeping." Her eyes gleamed in the darkness.

"Yes..." I dared say no more.

"The blanket is thick, and with two beneath it, it will be warmer still."
Boldly she concluded, "Surely we will have no need of any nightclothes."

Trembling, I let out my breath "What an excellent idea," I replied
unsteadily. "Truly I must confess that my thought was the same ...yet, as
thy guest, I hesitated to suggest it".

"Oh, Rebecca," said Magda indulgently, "do not be shy. We two are friends
now."

"Of course," I said softly.

"Come," Magda whispered. "Undress and prepare thyself for bed".

"Very well," I murmured. Demurely I turned my back and began loosening the
buttons of my dress. But though I listened intently, mine ears failed to
pick up the sound of Magda turning politely away. I heard her breath slow
in the darkness as I disrobed, and I knew, shivering, that behind my back
the naughty girl was still watching me. I worked my trembling fingers at
the chaste buttons whose closure concealed my pale body. The thought of her
secret interest-the sudden realization that some nameless impulse within
her made her crave the sight of my flesh as much as I longed for the sight
of hers-made me feel-strange inside. Somehow it felt good to let her watch
me.

As my hands chanced to brush across my bosom, they found my nipples
puckered up tight. Biting my lip, I checked again. Yes, those rosy peaks
indeed were full and stiff, delightfully so. The touch of my curious
fingertips sent a tingle quivering to the pit of my belly. The sensation
was delicious, yet I dared do no more, for behind my back, I knew, Magda
was watching. Yet even if she was-I hesitated for a moment Well, I thought
finally, what could be the harm? I cupped the jiggling flesh of my titties
and gave their sensitive rosebuds another squeeze for good measure all the
same.

Slowly I wriggled out of my garment, purposefully, knowing that the older
girl was watching me shyly... hungrily. I longed to strip my young body
quickly and throw myself, naked and spread-eagled, upon the mattress before
her. Yet still some shred of modesty intervened. Modesty-and perhaps the
half-understood knowledge that my coyness might inflame the lusts of this
wench even more. Somewhere deep within my soul, I longed to reach her, to
break through her uncertainty and make her feel as I knew I did.

Could it really be true? Was she indeed staring at me as lustfully as I had
watched her? With tantalizing slowness I pushed the dress off my hips,
off my buttocks... knowing how my naked flesh must shine creamy and
desirable even in the darkness. Then I let the rustling garment slide
teasingly down my bared thighs, slowly, slowly down to the floor. I shook
out my mane of golden curls, dimly beginning to understand how seductive
this little action was. Gradually I came to realize that Magda had never
seen an English girl like myself before-not like this, naked and unashamed,
close enough to reach out and touch. Did she thrill to the sight? Did mine
ears detect the quickening of her breath? I shivered at the thought. Coyly
I turned back to face my friend.

Magda's breath caught in her throat, but she swallowed and found her
voice. "There," she said softly, smiling slyly at me, "now thou wilt be
most comfortable." Her eyes slid over my pale, nude flesh gleaming in
the darkness. "Come," she whispered. "Let us retire." She pulled the cover
back from the straw-filled mattress and motioned me in.

Silently I climbed onto the makeshift bed, shivering faintly as my naked
hip brushed against Magda's. Then Magda slid in beside me and pulled the
quilted blanket up about our bare shoulders. The mattress was still cold,
and in the confines of the narrow pallet there was no room for undue
modesty. We rolled over to face each other, then hesitantly-yet quivering
with unacknowledged desires-we gradually let our naked young bodies come
together.

Our knees touched beneath the heavy cover, but the makeshift bed
necessitated greater intimacy, and in a moment we found our legs
straightening, our ankles and feet twining together for warmth. Giggling
nervously, Magda pressed her belly against mine, and I felt her smooth dark
skin along the length of my body. Her soft breasts bobbled into mine. How
those tender mounds must long to be cupped and fondled, I imagined, as only
another girl truly knows how! Slowly I began moving my hands across the
cool flesh of Magda's lower rib cage, higher ...yet I felt her stiffen
uncertainly. Though she herself had initiated this delightful contact,
Magda suddenly seemed unsure of herself. Hesitant, she seemed on the verge
of withdrawing.

"Thou art right, Magda," I murmured reassuringly in her ear. "The night is
cool, but this helps to warm our bones. Indeed, my dear friend, I prithee,
let me warm thee even more." Reluctantly I stopped the upward motion of my
questing hands and sent them sliding down her waist and about her swelling
hips instead. I rubbed Magda gently as if to warm her.

"Yes," she breathed, "this is warm and cozy" She softened to my touch,
letting my arms encircle her. Shyly she put her own arms about me and began
stroking my tapering back, my waist, my hips. She was uncertain about what
to do, but I was happy to guide her. I squeezed Magda's buttocks in
encouragement, and soon she began to knead mine as well. I sighed, feeling
warm-and wet-between my loosening thighs.

Tenderly I led her onward. Magda never had done anything like this before,
I was certain, and the thought excited me somehow. No matter how she had
secretly learned to pleasure herself, this was wonderfully
different. Though some instinct within her had led her to suggest this
contact, she knew not exactly where the situation would take her. What joy
it would be to teach her of the love of one maiden for another, to make her
cry out as she had at the waterfall. Already I had seen that her sleek
young body was well suited to the arts of love. I shuddered as I thought of
what I would do for her-and what she would do for me ....

Longingly I tried to pull my hands back around Magda's hips, to the front
of her shapely body-but again I felt her stiffen in uncertainty and
confusion. How I longed to reach between her tender thighs. Quivering in my
need, I pressed my face into the fragrant mass of her raven hair. Her cheek
was hot against mine, and I whispered softly, "Oh, Magda, I beg thee-do not
pull away." Impulsively I kissed the soft, sensitive skin of her rounded
earlobe. "The night is too cold to lie alone."

"Thou art right, Rebecca," she breathed in my ear. She squeezed
rhythmically at the cheeks of my bottom, inflaming my natural feminine
lusts. "But ...this is new to me."

"Hush," I murmured. Yet again, reluctantly I slowed my greedy hands. How I
longed to slip my fingers through the pouting velvet which beckoned between
her thighs, to touch her there rhythmically, to open her up with both hands
and smell her, and then to drop my hungry face down into her musky
paradise-but tonight, I recognized, that wicked pleasure was not to
be. Though she responded to my caresses instinctively, still some unnatural
twinge of modesty made her hesitate. I fondled the shapely mounds of her
full buttocks purposefully, knowing how it must make her feel inside.

Sighing, the wench angled her head, and I realized that she was presenting
her tender earlobe to my mouth Smiling in the darkness, I took her warming
flesh between my lips, nipping gently with my teeth. Though my mouth
watered for the succulent plums of her pert little nipples, I contented
myself as best I could, licking, sucking, teasing her sensitive ear and her
soft, fuzzy neck mercilessly. I felt Magda cling tighter.

Emboldened, I tried a different route to our mutual pleasures. If the coy
Magda still shrank from the touch of another girl's fingers upon her ripe
breasts and the musky treasures beneath her black-furred belly, perhaps
there were other ways .... Already our ankles were entwined, and it took
little maneuvering to work my calf, my knee, my thigh between her
legs. Slowly I brought my leg up between her loosening thighs, higher, and
higher She hesitated only briefly, but then relaxed and parted her soft
thighs willingly. Perhaps to her this seemed less purposeful, less wicked
than my naughty fingertips. I knew not-I knew only that we two had needs
which required satisfying.

Magda flinched not as I slid my upper thigh against the juicy split peach
below her rounded belly. She gasped quietly in my ear, in surprise and
delight-yet she made no protest as I began to press my leg rhythmically
into her wet flesh. My thigh dripped with her eager moisture, and all about
me in the intimate darkness I smelled the salty scent of her
arousal. Shuddering beneath the quilt, I arched my pelvis and worked at
grinding mine own poor neglected pussy against her rising leg.

Though I longed for the direct stimulation of her unashamed fingers, this,
I soon realized, was a most agreeable substitute. I was already fiercely
aroused, and it took little to make me moan into Magda's flowing tresses. I
thrilled to the soft sounds of her pleasure as she gasped breathily into my
ear. This is what I had wanted to do to her at the waterfall, I knew, and
this is what my body had craved of her. We clung to each other
desperately. Higher our passions mounted, and higher.

Within the liquid core of my most intimate being, nameless joys naturally
coalesced. The thrumming pressure in my loins mounted relentlessly,
beautifully. Slowly those nectared sensations spread along my trembling
limbs, through the dripping thigh against which Magda blissfully pressed
herself, down the rippling muscles of my forearms, into even the hands
clutching at the yielding mounds of my inexperienced friend's delectable
bottom. My breasts bobbled delightfully against Magda's, and as they did,
it seemed that I could feel the sweet little pressure of our rubbery
nipples catching upon resilient flesh, flipping free, and catching happily
again. My whole body seemed aflame.

My soul soared, transported, and as I clung lovingly to Magda, I knew that
she shared my transcendental ecstasy. Our bodies moved together with an
easy, liquid grace, slippery with the heated moistures of fresh honest
sweat and wanton lubrication. Onward coursed the honeyed pleasures of our
lovemaking, onward ....

Smiling beatifically, at long last we fell asleep in each other's arms.

Daily I worked at seducing my Gypsy wench into ever greater
intimacies. Magda was delightfully coy, yet I knew that she was as eager as
I to uncover these new aspects of our blossoming young womanhood. The older
girl needed only my touch to reveal her playful sensuality.

When we bathed in a stream, for example, it was only natural that each girl
might help the other cleanse herself. Oh, it always started most
innocently, sometimes with my offering to scrub Magda's back, or affecting
to notice some stubborn spot of dirt she had missed on her body. Truly, it
mattered not-so long as I could find an excuse to get my hands upon my
playful friend's naked skin. From, say, cleaning the small of Magda's
tapering back, it was but a minor step to massaging the flesh of her hips,
her rippling buttocks ....

She seemed to find nothing amiss if my hands strayed about the front of her
slippery torso and I found myself gently fondling the pert globes of her
breasts. How diligently I might work at her silken skin, cupping and
releasing those resilient handfuls, squeezing and rubbing softly, her
breath beginning to come faster. Eventually, of course, my fingertips would
discover the stiffened nodules which crowned Magda's high dusky mounds, and
I would find some excuse to torture them mercilessly.

The girl would be in my power then, unable to break free of my spell. With
her back turned to me and her head shyly inclined, Magda always shivered
most prettily. The irresistible caress of my knowing fingertips upon her
throbbing nipples inflamed her passions unbearably, making her body crave
something she dared not request aloud ...yet could not deny. I always tried
to prolong her erotic agony, for I was loath to release her from the sweet
bondage of her need. The knowledge that I controlled her supple young
body-made it quiver and sweat and long for more-was deliriously arousing.

Yet finally, when the girl could stand my teasing ministrations no longer,
I would begin to take mercy upon her. Even then, however, I refused to
relinquish my control. Even on the very first day after we had slept
together, I made her beg me, shy and uncertain though she still was. Her
lovely dark face was flushed with pleasure, but she reddened further as
I made her voice her innermost desires.  "Tell me," I whispered in her ear
as I stood behind her, naked in the cool waters of the brook I rolled her
stiffened nipples between my naughty fingers and thumbs. "Tell me what thou
wantest me to do."

"No!" Magda whimpered. "No!" Yet her body writhed under my tantalizing
stimulation, wicked twistings and pullings which whetted the appetites but
refused to grant the release they made the fevered body crave. "Oh,
Rebecca, I cannot say it!"

"Thou knowst what thou needst, sweet Magda," I murmured into her ear. I let
my tongue tip run lightly across the trembling skin of her soft lobe. "I
will give it ...but thou must name thy desires."

Magda bit her lip prettily, eyes closed. Her hands fluttered at her hips as
if they longed to reach down, down her taut belly, down through sopping
black curls ...but still she dared not. "Please, Rebecca, please..."

"Confess it," I whispered, pushing my face into the fragrant mass of her
hair to nuzzle the downy nape of her neck. Her breasts were ripe fruits in
my palms. "Confess unto me..."

Her body quivered at the brink of ecstasy, yet she could not attain that
bliss until I released her, and she knew it "Please..."

"What?" I teased her, tugging gently upon the tender buds of her erect
nipples. "What?"

"Please, Rebecca," she gasped, "I beg of thee! Touch me-touch me more!"

"Where?" I murmured innocently. I gathered her crinkled areolas between my
wondering fingers and thumbs, squeezing and fondling.

"Rebecca!" she cried piteously, nearly sobbing in her excitement "I-I
cannot say it!" As she spoke, one of her hands crept slyly across her
hipbone, reaching down ....

Smiling, I released one of her dark paps for a moment and quickly caught
her slim wrist in my pale hand. Her tendons quivered, but she did not try
to pull free. "Where, Magda ...?"

"Oh, Rebecca," she gasped finally, "pleasure me! Put your fingers between
my legs! Please, friend, rub my cunny-please!" Her will to resist was
defeated, and in the surrender of that silly modesty was the victory of her
natural desires. She knew it as well as did I.

Triumphantly, then, I let go of her wrist and slid my hand down her flat
young belly to seek out the core of her very femininity. She was ready for
me, her quim awash with shameless lubrication. Happily, I slipped my
fingers between her sodden lips and began fondling her clitoris. She was
wonderfully responsive. I thrilled to the sight of her, the whimpering
sounds of her pleasure, the slippery feel of her body against mine. Finally
it was more than I could bear..

"Now favor me," I husked unsteadily, "and we may share our blisses." My
palpitating body ached for her touch.

Lost in her pleasure, Magda snaked her slim hands daintily behind her and,
as if not realizing what she was doing, reached her fingertips into my
dripping cunt and frigged my slippery little clitty. Oh, it seemed Heaven
itself! I nearly swooned. On and on our pleasures pulsed, hot and joyous
and strong-until, endless minutes later, she finally slipped from my hands
and, affecting innocence, asked solicitously if I thought we had bathed
thoroughly enough.

Oh, though she feigned a girlish modesty, indeed Magda was a lusty
wench. It was my wicked delight to make her-nay, to give her the pretense
that all was my doing, and thus to seduce her-to shed that modesty.

Despite the pleasures of our dallyings, I yearned desperately for the
sensation of the wanton girl's tongue in my eager cunt. Yet I knew that
still she was not ready for this, for though she had long understood all
too well how to satisfy the natural desires of her own flesh, she was new
to the ways of love with another. She was mine, and in time would do
anything-anything-I asked of her, but to reach this final stage would take
time. Every day, it seemed, I tried to think up some new outrage to further
her education.

We made love each night, naked and gasping beneath the quilt in Magda's
narrow bed, fingering each other blissfully toward our mutual exhaustion. I
learned to stroke her slyly, to make her thickening pussylips open up like
the dewy petals of some exotic flower, baring the trembling bud of her
clitoris. And between those silken pink petals, lit only by a silvery shaft
of cool moonlight which might sink through an unnoticed little tear in the
arched canvas, my pale fingertips drew naughty, teasing circles about that
quivering morsel... while I shivered to the feel of Magda's insistent
fingers in my cunt.

Soon I took to waking her in the mornings by sucking on the dark plums of
her nipples. Those ripe buds had aroused me the very first time I had seen
her, when she had bathed in the stream, and it was a joy to finally wrap my
mouth unabashedly about them. If I woke before she did, I merely had to
flick my tongue across those tender peaks to have them stiffen up all hard
and tight and crinkly. I pulled those dusky fruits into my mouth between
reverent lips, nursing as eagerly as any newborn babe. I sucked her
tingling paps deep between my flushed cheeks, one after the other, lashing
fiercely with my tongue. It felt so good to have her in my mouth like that.

Magda might toss her head fitfully for a moment, still sunk in sleep-yet in
moments her heavy eyelids would flutter open and those dark eyes might
stare longingly into my clear blue ones. Then her flushed lids would sink
blissfully closed again, and she would slip her grateful fingers down my
trembling belly, to the blonde-fringed lips sweating between my parting
thighs ....

The days passed happily as our wagons moved slowly westward, away from the
home I could never see again. At first I had been anxious that my father
might hire agents to look for me, but if he ever did, I never saw them-nor
they me. The fools could have passed the family of Gypsies a dozen times
without ever thinking to notice them. Gradually I came to realize that I
was at last safe from the possibility of capture. I was free.

Early one evening as the horses stopped to rest, Magda's mother gave her
daughter a large basket and sent the two of us into the nearby woods in
search of berries. Unhitching the animals, her husband frowned slightly
beneath his great black mustache, but said nothing.

Soon we were deep in the trees, lost from sight. Heart fluttering beneath
my stiff-nippled breasts, I hooked my arm around Magda's slender waist and
kissed her square upon her full dark lips.

"Oh, Rebecca," she laughed, dropping down the basket, "thou art a most
playsome girl!" Yet she made no move to resist. Indeed, when I kissed my
friend again, the older girl opened her mouth and let my eager tongue slide
inside, and we spent a jolly moment like this. Her hands caressed my hips
through the thin fabric of my skirts, and I seemed to melt inside.

When we broke apart for breath, I opened the top buttons of Magda's
bright-checked dress in a feverish haste. I bared her bosom eagerly and,
wrapping my hands about the high dark mounds, dropped my mouth onto her
swollen nipples and commenced to ravish them mercilessly.

"Oh, Rebecca!" she gasped, staggering back against the trunk of a tree. She
shuddered joyously, but soon she pushed my face gently back, her
half-lidded eyes gazing drowsily into mine. "This little treat must wait, I
fear. If we do not get our berrying done now ...I think we never will." Her
black eyes gleamed a liquid promise.

"Perhaps...," I breathed. Still I brushed my reverent fingertips across the
thickened nodules which crowned those resilient handfuls. I watched her
shiver. "Yet if I must wait," I said impulsively, "thou must
disrobe. I...wish to watch thee, Magda, to help pass the time while we
work".

Magda blushed beautifully. "Rebecca," she whispered in apparent shock,
"thou art wicked!" Yet she did not try to cover herself, and I watched her
pretty breasts sway in the opening of her garment. How I longed to throw
her supple body to the ground and cover it with my adoring eyes, my roving
hands, my hungry mouth...

"Be naked for me, dear friend," I coaxed, "for when our chore is done, I
want nothing to slow me..."

Magda bit her full lower lip and slowly turned her back She looked at me
seductively over her shoulder for a moment, then turned away again and
wordlessly began to undress.

I shivered as I watched her strip before me. She took her time, knowing all
too well how much I craved her naked flesh. Inch by inch she bared herself,
sometimes glancing her black eyes shyly back over her shoulder. I was
shamefully wet, and my nipples were so stiff that they hurt Soon she was
gloriously nude, and it was all I could do to keep myself from spinning her
around and pushing her, unresisting, to the earth-throwing myself atop her,
between her dusky thighs, and sinking my fingers into the welcoming pink of
her tight young cunt...

"Yes," I murmured shakily "That is better."

Magda turned around boldly, her dress in one hand, the basket in her
other. She wore nothing but her shoes, and the silver hoops which sparkled
at her ears. "Come," she said as if nothing at all untoward were taking
place, "let us pick berries." Without another word she walked off deeper
into the forest.

I drank in the sight of her tapering back, her exquisite waist and swelling
hips, the lovely roll of soft dark buttocks atop long, shapely thighs. My
hands trembled. Nevertheless, I followed her silently.

I was a poor companion for berrying that day, but eventually we were able
to fill the great basket. It was Magda who found the best bushes, and it
was Magda who did the most careful picking. Certainly I tried, yet it was
difficult to keep mine eyes-and my hands-upon the task. Many were the times
when I carelessly crushed the berries in picking them, or cast the sweet,
sticky morsels upon the ground rather than into the unwatched basket.

All too often my gaze kept returning to the alluring limbs prancing before
me, trying to catch a glimpse of dark-tipped young breasts as they bobbled
soft and round beneath a sleek, outstretched forearm. Magda's tresses
gleamed in the dappled sunlight, a lustrous mass of bouncing sable which
flowed across her rounded shoulders and silken back. I ran mine eyes along
the soft skin behind her ears, the fuzzy nape of her neck Sometimes when
she bent I spied a tuft of black curls below the soft, secret place where
the cheeks of her shapely bottom met.

And Magda herself watched me slyly, her fathomless black orbs peeking
impudently again and again over a seductive shoulder ....

Finally I could stand no more of the sweet torture. Our basket was nearly
full-and my body was shaking with unfulfilled desire. Breathing heavily, I
removed the basket from Magda's hand and set it down as carefully as I
could. She looked at me in coy surprise, her eyes wide.

"Why, Rebecca," she exclaimed demurely, "what ever is the matter?" She
lowered her eyes shyly, then looked up at me through her beautifully thick
lashes. The girl stood naked before me, innocently, it seemed-yet the
erectness of her pert nipples gave lie to her feigned aloofness.

"Lie down," I said, shuddering.

Magda tried to look shocked. Tardily she moved her hands as if to cover the
soft mounds of her chest, and the wiry black tangles of her crotch, but the
pretty little parody hid nothing, merely serving to inflame my lusts
further-as I am sure she meant it to do. "If thou thinkest I should,
Rebecca...," she whispered.

 "Now!" I panted.  Smiling secretly at my arousal, Magda silently lowered
herself to the earth. She sat for a moment, her knees drawn up modestly,
staring up into my heavylidded eyes. Then she bit her lip and laid her
shoulders gently back against the ground. r s "Let thy knees come apart,
Magda," I said softly.  "Like this?" she murmured, slowly parting her
smooth dark thighs to expose a nest of tight curls at the base of her
belly. Her cheeks flushed as I smiled down at her obvious wetness.

"Now," I breathed, "now ...pull apart the lips of thy cunny".

"Rebecca!" she gasped-but she wished this new intimacy as much as I
did. She could not resist me, and I knew it. Shyly Magda pushed her
trembling hands down between her parted thighs, until her fingertips
slipped across moist fur. She hesitated, then dug her fingers into the
spongy pink flesh of her cunt and pulled apart the engorged petals, making
a sticky squelching sound.

The sight was heavenly Inside was pink and glistening, wet with wanton
lubrication. Between her shamelessly parted labia trembled the tender bud
of her clitoris, naked and upright-closer than I had ever seen before, for
never had she done this for me. I took a ragged deep breath, and smelled
the musky, liquid promise of her femininity. She was mine, I realized
suddenly, my mind reeling, mine to do with as I would Now I would break
down her last silly inhibition and show her what love truly was-the thought
was profoundly exciting.

I hiked up my skirts and sank to my knees between her open thighs, pushing
my face low so that I breathed in only the aroma of her very sexuality. My
mouth quivered at the scent of the treat it had gone without for weeks, and
I licked my lips in restless anticipation. I looked into the open treasure
of Magda's naked cunt and saw her pearl of pleasures rising tempting and
sweet between her fingertips.

"What-what dost thou see?" Magda called out quietly, unsettled by my
silence.

"Paradise," I whispered, and saw her shiver at my breath in her most
intimate of places. Slowly I reached out ...and drew my forefinger
reverently across the slick rosy flesh of her bared clitoris. A tremor ran
through her body.

Deliberately I began to masturbate her. Using tiny circular strokes, I
rubbed slowly all about the bud of the flower of her femininity,
purposefully, teasingly. I started at the top of her vulva, employing the
first two fingers of my left hand. Magda's breath caught in her throat, but
I was careful not to touch her most sensitive spot again. Though she ached
for my fingers upon her slippery clit, I withheld that favor. First I would
make her suffer exquisitely.

It was joyous work, and as I labored so intently, I slipped my right hand
between mine own thighs and began rubbing my digits through the sodden
flesh of my puffy, open cunt. I needed that desperately, and though I
almost thought of maneuvering my body so that Magda could touch me, I
recognized that right then the greater pleasure was to watch her hold
herself open, to have her present herself, eagerly and unashamedly. The
thought was wildly arousing.

Slowly I stimulated my wicked friend, sending her pleasures mounting
higher, and higher ...yet coyly refusing to grant that ultimate bliss
which I made her body crave. Although her hips bucked, and I saw from the
trembling of her fingers that she could scarcely refrain from prodding
herself into ecstasy, Magda lay submissively beneath my tantalizing
caresses. She knew that her young friend would reward her-and I fancy it
was as exciting for her to expose herself to me so intimately as it was for
me to command that naughtiness.

Teasingly I ran my fingers over Magda's puffy outer lips, sometimes drawing
a sticky dollop of lubrication across the fingertips which spread them so
shamelessly. Slowly I dragged my slippery digits over the sensitive inner
labia which could no longer close to protect the shy, wanton bud of the
clitoris. Yet even though I slipped fingertips into the entrance of the
glistening pink tunnel which beckoned beneath that tremulous nodule, still
I refrained from stroking the seat of her pleasures.

Mine own lusts, however, burned with increasing urgency. As I panted
between Magda's prettily spread thighs, I soon found myself rubbing at my
clitoris with joyous abandon. A welcome fullness engulfed my fluttering
belly, pulsing and liquid. The nectared sensations spread slowly through my
trembling limbs, coiled heavily in my breasts, throbbed fiercely in my
nipples. Swooning, I seemed to teeter unsteadily upon my knees. It was
time, I knew, time to initiate my friend into the ultimate joy of womanhood
as I had longed to do since the moment I met her. Finally she was ready.

Smiling serenely I lowered my flushed face that final inch and gratefully
buried my mouth between the slippery labia which Magda's slim dusky
fingertips held so daintily open. Oh, she tasted so good, felt so smooth
and right! Triumph burning at the base of my skull, I pushed mine other
hand down my sweating belly and brought myself off with both hands,
feverishly.

And as I masturbated myself so wildly, I placed my shameless tongue
purposefully upon Magda's agonized clitoris and polished it with all the
love that one friend could have for another. She cried out in surprise and
in joy, her naked cunt spasming beneath my lips and tongue, her supple body
shaking with the heady throes of a blissful, slow-building orgasm for which
she had longed, unknowing. On and on I sucked at the sweet salty flesh of
her oversensitized clit ....

As we walked back toward the wagons, the basket of berries held between us,
I looked over to Magda and smiled. Yet when I looked away I felt the smile
fade rapidly. Though I never told her, as I had knelt, gasping, between her
naked thighs but a moment earlier, I had chanced to look up-and for a
confused split-second it had seemed that I saw her father staring right at
me from the cover of a tangle of undergrowth.

When I blinked, he was gone. Had I truly seen him? At first I was certain
of it ...but the more I considered, the less sure I was. I had been lost
and alone, hunted-most likely my overactive imagination was playing tricks
upon me. Still, now and then on the way back, I saw what I took to be his
tracks.

When we reached the wagons, Magda's father was breaking twigs into
firewood, his face averted from the forest. I bit my lip. He had indeed
been in the wood... but had he seen us? Though I searched his face
secretly, I could find no convincing evidence of his guilt. I was confused.

Now as I think back upon it, I know how the overworked mind can turn
easily to wild fancies of suspicion. I know that in my distrust I wronged
that poor man.

Yet that night my senses whirled. Either I was truly in danger, or I was
torturing myself with needless fantasies of persecution. Both situations,
it seemed, were equally intolerable.

Soon, I knew, I would have to leave.


Transcribed by Glinda Goodwitch
gaspar50@hotmail.com