In the year of 1532, I was a young maiden starting to really wonder about the joys my body could bring. My imagination, my touch, the time between the freedom and innocence of youth and the joys of womanhood were just starting to cross over.
I spent many a happy aching hour exploring the realm of fantasy while hiding alone in the hay barn in winter, or running free in the woods around my village in summer. The feelings brought out by my explorations within body and without were wonderful. Aches of pleasure filling me with even greater realms of desire.
Mostly I would just enjoy the aches and puffy wetness as I let my mind wonder as it would while going about my daily chores. The simple feel of a breeze blowing my summer dress against my thighs could trigger those feelings, or the brush of the sun warmed skin of one of my girl-friends as we played games in the village square. Sometimes I would run off to one of my secret spots in the forests, to lie on a warm rock or in a grass covered clearing and take the time to let my mind, hands and body work their magic together.
I would dream of dashing Knights and handsome Princess riding past our village, falling madly in love with me from just one look and wowing me with all their powers. I would laugh afterwards though. Like many maidens my age I did not see myself as very pretty. Although my guardian always fretted so, when she caught the men of the area staring at me. I thought they starred because I looked different, to tall, to gangly.
I have long dark blond hair, green-gray eyes, a fair skin and breasts that I wish were bigger. They sit very high on my chest and men often stare at them so I guess they must be OK. My legs are too long, I heard my guardian describe them as 'coltish' to a friend - which I did not like! But I do like the feeling of my legs as I run free in the wilderness or slide through the cool water of my secret swimming hole.
At one stage I thought I had been punished by the gods for my sensual pleasures. It took me months to realize it was a gift not a curse. I had been playing alone in the woods again, clambering up a tree when I slipped on wet moss and fell onto a steep bank. The sudden searing pain between my legs and then all the red blood that would not stop running out terrified me far more than the fall! The bruises, cuts and scrapes I did not feel in my fear that the pain 'down there' would never heal, that it was punishment from the Gods for taking too much pleasure. I never told a soul!
But over time it healed and my desires drove me to explore again, to fill that beautiful ache. That was when I realized that I was actually now blessed. My fingers now slid in easier and so to did other objects, thicker, more 'filling' objects, my favorite was a candle I had shaped with a bulb and a notch so that it would stay in when I was doing my chores. Chores were never quite the same - although I often lost my concentration!
My story really starts the summer my guardian started to talk seriously about finding me a husband. We were married young in those days. I hated the idea. I wanted my Prince or Knight to find me, not some village boy to have me whom I did not crave! I would spend every moment I could alone in the woods. As it was summer my wanderings often lead me to my swimming hole. A natural sunny clearing in the trees with a small waterfall flowing into the pool, a grassy bank leading up to the edge of a cliff. The villagers never came up this valley, believing stories of wild flying beast. But I knew better, after all, all the other stories of fairies and goblins they told me as a child proved to be nothing but stories to frighten me into doing my chores!
After the long walk up hill to this clearing I would often be hot and sweating, but exhilarated. Looking forward to strip of my light white cotton summer dress and undergarments, ready to dive into the refreshing embrace of the mountain waters.
This would always send a cold shock through my body that made me feel so alive. My skin would go all goose-pimply, my nipples would pucker up to firm little tingling mounds, and my vagina would instantly contract as the cold fingers of water tried to ease their way inside. Sometimes I would slowly open my legs under water to let a gush of cold exhilaration rush in. A feeling that I loved and hated so much I would always swear I would never do it again yet laughed and gasped out aloud every time it happened and naturally repeated the next time!
Later I would lie on the sun warmed rocks or in the soft grassy herbs of the river bank to dry off and fantasize about what would happen if my Price would ride by then and see me lying naked in the sun. My nipples would go hard again, but in a softer, more frustrating way. My vagina would start to swell, ache and become moist. Sometimes I would force myself not to touch myself for ages and try to reach those body convulsing waves of please with just my mind. More often than not my ache was too strong and I had to touch, caress, probe and stroke my way to paradise. Oh, that feeling to be filled. How I longed for a lovers erect penis to explode inside me. Girls from small farming villages know all about these things from a very early age
It is only five years since those heady days. With my now wisdom and confidence I know what a beautiful woman I have become and what a stunning maiden I was. Just the thought of me lying stretched long and naked in the sun, legs apart, back arched, hands caressing and exploring my wetness, nipples erect and fondled, hair flowing behind me, head back and later gasping in orgasm, can make me so aroused that my juices flow again and again without a touch of my hand.
On that day after my swim I had lain my wet tingling body in the soft grass and with eyes closed was just starting to get close to the point were I knew an orgasm would be not far off, when I felt the sun remove its touch from my skin and was shocked back from my blissful brink by a massive thunder clap! A summer storm cloud had quickly marched over the edge of the valley during the time of my mental escape and was already starting to pelt cold big drops of rain onto my recently warmed skin. New sensations and stimulation, I loved it, and imagined, rubbed and caressed all the more as each drop stimulated another part of my body that I did not have enough hands to reach. Little tongues kissing and licking every inch of my skin exposed to the heavens. I was making love to the Gods!
But again, just as ecstasy was approaching the hail came down with a blast of freezing air and stung beyond the limits of pleasure. I jumped up laughing and grabbing my white dress ran naked for the shelter of a rocky over-hang in the cliff base. Starting to shiver in the ice laden gusts I decided to make my way higher, to I cave I thought I could make out. Needing both hands to scramble up I put my cloths on. Realizing, but not caring, that I had left my undergarments in the grass, I slipped the now drenched summer dress over my shoulders and started the short scramble.
It was a cave, larger than I thought, the entrance so positioned by the Gods that it was only visible from that one point under the overhang. Shivering I entered and tried to stare into the darkness. All I could see was a low rock shelf a few meters in and then blackness. But the hidden entrance gave wonderful protection from the wind. Sitting on the shelf I drew my legs up under my chin for warmth and watched the storm range across the valley outside.
It was not long before the hard seat and clinging wet dress made me feel quite uncomfortable, and just as I was starting to feel a bit less sure of myself I was startled by a sound behind me! I jumped up and turned to face the blackness. Fool! A cave could have any number of wild animals living inside it and I was blocking their escape! But the sound was that of metal? For the briefest moment I froze and as I was about to turn and run I heard a voice. Masculine, deep, strong, but soothing, telling me to not be afraid, that no harm would befall me. I bent to pick up a rock, suddenly very conscious of the way my dress clung to every curve and crevasse of my body. The wet material sticking to my exposed skin like a translucent film had been painted on. Now suddenly I hated the involuntary cold erection of my nipples and I quickly tried to hide them. Covering them, my mound (with is soft downy hair even visible through the clinging cloth), and holding the rock, proved an awkward, if not impossible task.
The voice spoke again, saying that it was sorry it had startled me, that it had seen me come in and could have done me harm then, had it wanted to. Had hoped I would leave after the storm and be none the wiser that he was even there. This eased my mind considerably as the facts supported his story. I had been sitting with my back to him for quite some time.
He must have noticed my shivering and exposed embarrassment as a beautiful red velvet cloak landed at my feat At first startled, but then grateful, I asked him to turn away as I removed my wet dress and wrapped the cloak around my bare shoulders. Such a cloak I had never seen before, with black satin trim and soft fur lining. Truly a cloak of queens! A grip of fear again, as I thought of a thief in his den! But I heard him turn slowly back to me with no threat and I started to relax.
I asked him if he had a light that I might see him properly. He answered that he had no need for light, except sometimes fire for comfort. He saw quite well in the dark and thought it better I did not see him. Confusion raced through my mind. Little did I know that the truth was far more unbelievable than I could ever have imagined!
.... There is more of this story ...