Fair 5
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Since Trunks was attuned to Marron's feelings, he treated the night, the contrived bed and Marron as if the circumstances were perfectly ordinary. She tried to think of exactly the right thing to say and she took a breath several times to begin, but she couldn't think of any ordinary sentences to define her particular situation and explain herself to this stranger.
She stiffened more as she saw that he took off his vest. He was undressing! It was exactly as she suspected he was about to try to seduce her. She thought how shocked Sharpener would be.
As she took yet another full breath to begin a speech, Trunks said nicely, "It can be cold at night in the open, and you look frozen. Here, this is warm. Put it on." He held the vest for her.
That he would offer her more clothing threw off her arguments. He wasn't trying to seduce her after all. She was somewhat startled that a corner of her mind was disappointed.
She automatically moved her arms into the correct holes in the vest and found the bottom of it came to her calves. It was so warm. She felt back in control.
"Here. Lie down this way. I've puffed up the straw so we can see the lake too."
He appeared to be concentrating on the fireworks. She looked around, found herself sitting on the edge of the folded quilt, and then taking off her moccasins. He was standing back courteously, holding the Floating Lilies quilt. She sat back but didn't lie down. He hadn't made the nest very wide. She kept track of him cautiously from the corner of her eye as he moved around. When he sat next to her, she moved over as far as she could.
"Did I get it too small?" he asked chattily.
"Somewhat," she replied primly.
"I thought it would be warmer if we had the bottom quilt doubled. We can try it this way, and if it's too close, we can spread the straw wider. See what you think."
She thought how threatening he was. He spread the quilt over her but not over him. That did surprise her. She had thought he would get down under the blanket and... and...
"Look! They lit a fuse! It's about to begin. Are you comfortable?"
"Yes. Fine." She lay back, pulling the quilt up to her chin and her head fell back so that she looked straight up at the sky. She sat up again and turned to frown at the top of the quilt under them.
"Oops!" he said busily. "Too flat." He worked with quick calculations pawing around ineffectively. "Try that."
Again she went down flat.
"Should have gotten another bale!" He fretted as if to himself. "Here, put your head on my shoulder... But first you have to get rid of all those hairpins again. I'm no pincushion. Hurry up." He sounded a little impatient for such a guileful man.
She began to remove the hairpins. "Hurry!" he said again. He removed the two remaining feathers from her hair and laid them carefully in the corner between the folded underquilt. Then, impatiently, he took her pins one by one, and her hair came tumbling down.
"Good." He had every reason to be satisfied as he made her comfortable, his arm under her head and opposite shoulder. "You can talk all you want, but hold still. I don't want to miss the show."
"What did you do with my hairpins?"
"They're up her under the edge of the quilt. They'll be fine." He took a deep breath. "They'll start soon. Hasn't this been a nice day?"
"You must be exhausted."
"Just nicely tired." He gave her the tiniest little friendly hug with the arm under her and his hand on her opposite upper arm. "How about you? Tired?"
"Not really. This has been a wonderful day," she said rather shyly. "I've never had such a good time."
"Me too." He reached over his other arm and gave her a nice, still- friendly hug, but his left hand had to move down her body, since his right hand pulled her arm around as he pressed her so briefly against him. After he relaxed the hug and put his right hand on his own chest, his left hand stayed on her body just below her armpit. Since she was lying flat, it was quite close to the side of her breast.
She knew she should speak but wasn't sure what she what she wanted to say. He didn't move the hand so she turned a little toward him to give it more room. Apparently he thought she wanted another hug, so she gave her one. Then he moved his mouth down to hers and, with the pressure of his kiss, he moved her head back. He said, "You're so sweet." And he pulled her arms closer.
In doing that his hand slipped along so that the heel of his hand was pressed into the side of her breast.
She opened her mouth to protest and reached to move his hand, but her opened mouth only invited him to deepen his kiss into something she had never experienced. She reacted to it in a mind-disturbing way as her body shivered with thrills. He made a sound that shot through her in a shockingly marvelous way, just as the first of the fireworks shot off, whistled into the air and exploded in a stunning red, blue and white shower.
Very low and growling, he told her. "That's what you do inside me."
She didn't reply, because she was swamped with such sensation that she knew that if she tried to speak, she'd babble incoherently. With her body under the onslaught of sensations along her nerve ends, and with throbbing touches in mysterious places, the fireworks went on. It seemed perfectly logical for the display to continue, not as a celebration of the county fair, but because she was lying on a bed of quilt-covered straw in Trunks Briefs' arms and he had kissed her mind into oblivion.
He leaned up on an elbow in order to look down at her. His head was dark against the display of stars strewn across the night sky and the exploding magic of the fireworks.
Her eyes were enormous as she looked up at him. He smiled and murmured, "Moon maiden," as he kissed her again. He found that her lips were soft and sweet, but shy. Had he kissed so few men? He moved his mouth gently, and then touched his tongue to her lips to part them. She gasped a little, parting her teeth, and her breath shuddered as his tongue touched hers.
He almost lost control as he felt her hands timidly creep up his shoulders to the nape of his neck. His body was tensed, his hands moved, and she made sounds of protest. He kissed her again.
Sharpener had never made her feel this way. He had been so... disinterested, his kisses such nothings. She could never marry him now. How could she, knowing that this is what making love was like?
Making love? That's what she was doing! She was making love to a stranger. She was allowing him all sorts of delicious liberties. How could she? She had known him only since that morning. "Trunks?" she said.
He didn't want any distraction.
She persisted, "You must not."
Conversation or debate wasn't what he had in mind at all. He rubbed his face against hers and lifted the quilt so that their bodies were against each other.
She took his head between her hands and pushed gently. "Trunks..."
"I'm going to make love with you."
"Why?" She almost choked on her heart, which had leaped into her throat.
"I won the ring. I get my wish. It will come true."
"Now, Trunks..."
"I saw you driving that little blue car - Emma - and I followed you. You- "
"I thought you couldn't pass me."
"I didn't want to."
"You deliberately followed me?"
"Yes." He nudged along her jaw line and down her throat, nibbling, not paying a whole lot of attention to the conversation because he was so distracted by her.
"You hadn't intended coming to the fair?"
"Not until you did. I was going wherever you were going. You got out of Emma and looked at me, and I knew that I wanted you like I've never wanted any other woman in my life."
"Trunks. We just met this morning."
"In this one day I know everything I need to know about you. You are a love. When I saw you holding that little girl, having taken her and comforted her..."
"She was only tired. We don't have little kids like that in... my town."
"I'm going to love you." He made it a statement.
She assumed he meant the physical act, and she shivered with something rather remarkable and she tried to figure out exactly what was happening to her.
He had parted his vest, which she still wore, and tugged down the scoop neck of her gown. She squirmed inside her still body, and there were tremblings of thrills. He had said he knew her. And she knew him as a man. All that day had been as a proving of the kind of man he was. She then realized she wanted him as badly.
Why not? What could be wrong? She would probably never marry. Knowing Trunks had ruined any possibility of that. She was no child. She was responsible for her own conduct. She could take care of her self. And no on in all of Apricot knew her. Trunks wasn't the only anonymous stranger, so was Marron Chestnut. And she wanted him.
To her that was so incredible. Just as mad as this entire stolen day. It was so unlike her. But she was going to let him make love to her, and there was such a clamoring of reasoning to her mind that she simply closed it all off and allowed sensations to swamp through all her objections and obliterate them.
She had enough reason left to grasp the question, "Will I get pregnant?"
"No, I'll take care of you." He quickly kissed her again; curling her to him, holding her, murmuring, breathing, his body so hard, hers so soft, and he made love to her.
It was astonishing. She felt things went a little fast. She was unsure. She panicked a little here and there. Gasping, reaching for him, wanting more. And he finally took her. She shuddered, then relaxed and exclaimed, "Why, it's so..."
It was all very unusual.
That was the word that occupied her mind as they lay in a tumble, gasping and shivering with the aftermath of their unusual encounter.
Trunks leaned on one elbow and stroked Marron. He was sweaty from his fever, from the fire that had consumed him. She lay silently under him, still enthralled with the word unusual.
Timidly she reached up and touched his damp hair. He turned his head and kissed her hand. The neglected fireworks were still going on. He leaned in gently to kiss her tender, swollen mouth. With exquisite care, he ran his hand down her side and up again. He gently lay on her, put his hands under her shoulders and curled them up as he hugged her. "That was beautiful."
"Unusual." She got to say the fascinating word.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm astonished."
"You are marvelous," he corrected in that deep husky voice.
"Oh, Trunks, I never expected to experience anything like this."
"Why not?"
"I never expected to meet a man I like so well."
"Ahhh." It was the sound of relief. "So you like me?"
She laughed. "Apparently."
"Why... apparently?" He raised his head and looked down at her.
"Well, I suppose what I just allowed you to do with me must be some indication of an... attraction."
"If that's attraction, Marron, I wonder what your enravishment would be."
He turned to lie beside her and lifted the quilt carefully against the night air. He took her back into his arms and held her as he had at first, but this time his hand cupped her bare skin. "Are you enjoying the fireworks?"
She bubbled with laughter. "What if there's been an unusual display and we're asked about it?"
"I would say there's been a very unusual display. Why didn't you tell me that you were inexperienced?" he asked, his voice very tender and rough.
"Well, I don't recall that you inquired."
"Is that all right?"
"Oh, Trunks, you were simply terrific."
"It's the ring. I told you it was particularly needed for a deeply rooted problem. The problem began when I first saw you."
"What other clever approaches do you use on stray and lonely women?"
"Are you stray and lonely?" he asked quite seriously.
"I was." Then she had to know. "Was I dreadfully inept?"
"You are perfect."
"I've heard of tricks that women use..."
"Do you want to use tricks on me?" The rumble of his voice was a little reedy, as if he might have become hoarse.
"Well, you did all those nice things to m..."
"I think I should have stayed out of the contests today," he said with thoughtful humor. Then he kissed her and held her tightly. "Let's stay the night here, okay?"
"No one would mind? Would it be all right?"
"I believe it will be paradise."
They lay snuggled beneath the Floating Lilies quilt, the breeze gentle in the starlit night, and she said with some surprise, "They stopped the fireworks! How frugal to have so few!" Then she noticed his laughter and sat up. "What's so funny? Everyone's gone!"
"I believe we've been... distracted."
"Oh." There was a little silence. "I don't feel... different." He hugged her silently and kissed her temple. She looked around. "It's nice out here."
"It's nice anywhere." His low deep rumble was amused and he yawned.
"Silly. I mean being out under the sky and sleeping on the ground. I never camped anywhere, did you?"
"Too much," he said sleepily.
After a little silence she said, "This has been an unusual day for me." There was that word unusual again. He didn't reply. She looked at him lying there next to her side, and she realized he was asleep!
How could he possibly go to sleep? Well, of course he'd had a very strenuous day. He was such a good and interesting man. She speculated what he might do to make living. He'd said something about troubleshooting. She wondered if he was a government agent of some kind. He didn't look anonymous enough for her idea of a government agent. The breeze was just exactly cool enough so that she was cozy lying under his quilt. What shocking uses for such works of art! What a delicious image to lie between two quilts with a naked man!
Imagine little Marron Chestnut being in such a situation. She never giggled, but she had to smother one now. She smiled up at the stars. Her body was so contented. She stretched just a bit and took a deep breath of country air. It smelled just the same as it did in Peach. Of course Peach was a country town. Her dying town. Thinking of the town, gradually emptying, she sighed a deep sad sigh.
Even in his sleep Trunks was acutely aware her and he heard the sigh in his subconscious. The sad sound of it roused him. "Are you all right?"
"Oh, yes." She was wakeful, so she was pleased that she had his attention and hurried into speech before he went back to sleep. "Just look at all the stars. They're thick! There are so many I don't think we're unique." She chose the word as an alternate selection to unusual.
"I may not be unique, but you sure are." His hands moved on her pliant body as he hugged her.
"I meant," she explained, "as a world. With all those stars there are bound to be other-" But he had kissed her, rather effectively silencing her dissertation of worlds on beyond.
Eventually he lifted his mouth from hers and looked at her in the rising moonlight. "I'm glad we're here at this place, by this lake, in this world."
The quilt was somehow down around her waist by then. He lifted the covering in order to look at her lying there, but she was embarrassed and curled to him to hide her body from his eyes. However, she did smile.
"Don't be shy with me. You are so beautiful. You fill me with amazement that any woman could be so beautiful. I just want to stare at you." But he was kissing her then, moving his tongue to her ear, his hands relishing the feel of her. In some wonder his voice said the classic line, "It's never been like this."
Since she didn't have any experience to know that it was a line well honed and often so casually used, she didn't realize that Trunks said it in astonishment, and she accepted his words as they were meant: it was never like this before for him. While it awed him, it scared her. A brief lick of caution went through her stomach, but it was immediately chased off by the sensations he was so skillfully building.
He breathed so hotly along her ear that it excited her. He seemed so... so... male. Her head went back as her fingers dug into his hair. She said, "Golly..."
He paused, then he put back his head and laughed.
She stiffened, "What's so funny?"
"Golly?"
"What's wrong with that? She was becoming hostile.
"No 'gee whiz'?" He was delighted with his little anachronism. A moon maiden who said golly? He leaned back down as he chuckled in his tenderness for her.
But she pushed against him, offended. "What am I supposed to say? I'm sorry I don't know the rules!"
And he realized he'd committed a mistake. "Oh, honey, it was just so sweet. I wasn't laughing at you! I was so... charmed by you."
"So you laughed. It will make an excellent story for you. You got this country girl out between two quilts you bought at the county fair, and you were making love to her, she said - get this - she said, 'Golly!' " And she hiccuped a sob and she began to cry.
Even that charmed him. "Oh, my dear heart." His confirmed bachelor's mind was stunned and said, whoa! Which probably indicated how much he was attuned to the situation. But his impulsively tender tongue went on. "How could I laugh at anything so sweet and beautiful as you? A woman I had to fight a challenge for to win the magic ring? Who wore my favors in her hair?" He was rather amazed and pleased his tongue could be so glib. But his heart meant it all.
She took a shaky breath. Her eyes were sad and her mouth very small and tight. The moonlight glinted on a tear, which tore his very heart. "Oh, my moon maiden," he groaned, kissing her so gently. He acted so cherishing that she believed him.
His lips pulled quick kisses at her softening lips. "Say 'golly,' " he coaxed. "Say it for me. It will thrill me. It's a sweet word to me. It gives me courage that you like me and want me. That you are thrilled by me. Say it for me."
"Oh, Trunks..." She was almost in despair. But thought this whole thing was getting far beyond all sanity.
But his deep rumbling voice wouldn't accept the substitute. "Say it." He kissed her mindless.
She tried to hold her heavy head steady as she curled to him, her fingers in his hair and moving to dig into his shoulders, and she gasped breathlessly, "G-golly."
It was too perfect to relinquish. They lay spent. Their fingers patted or petted; mouths touched shoulders; heads moved to touch foreheads. They murmured sounds of shared pleasure as they sighed and smiled.
He uttered the first actual word. "Beautiful."
"Ummmmm." She almost said, "Unusual." Unusual was a good solid descriptive word, but it was inadequate for what they'd experienced. She lazily and somewhat bemusedly flipped through a catalogue of words and couldn't come up with anything worthwhile, so she just said, "Ummmmm" again. She thought of saying "golly" but avoided it. He might laugh again, and although she realized he had in fact been delighted with her saying the word, she thought laughter right then would be rather rude to the awesome feeling they shared. It was some time before they came back to reality. Their pettings and murmurings were quite sweetly done, and she felt very tender toward him. But her caution began to surface. That brought her attention to her position and conduct. And to the fact that she was on an... unusual holiday, and the time would come very soon when she would be returning to Peach and to her own life as it actually was. It was no anything like this day had been. She said prosaically, "I could use a hot shower."
"How about a cool dip in the lake?"
"I don't have a suit," was her quick reply.
This time he swallowed the laugh, so his words sounded matter-of-fact. "We'll just go on in as we are."
"Skinny-dip?" She was a little scandalized.
He tried to make it easier for her. "I know what women look like, and Marron, you have no reason to be shy with me."
His words would have been so logical if she'd been any woman, but she didn't really know what men looked like. She hesitated to mention that, since they'd been so... intimate. She was no longer an innocent, but she hadn't actually seen him. She was silent.
In order to make her feel more at ease he put back the quilt and stood up slowly so that she wouldn't be alarmed by sudden moves. His manner meant to show her that nakedness wasn't shameful. He was beautiful, and she stared at him.
He looked around the area, as men do in strange circumstances, then he held a hand down to help her to rise. She said, "You go ahead. I'll be right along."
He paused, then went down the bank and walked into the water before he shoved off and swam out a way. She sat up to watch, and she saw the moonlight on the ripples he'd made and touch on the light oval of his head and his lavender head. A pagan god was bathing in the night's moonlit waters.
He called softly, "Come along."
She rose from their bed and, with her arms curled concealingly; she stepped with feminine grace through the weeds to the bank. He watched her and was filled with her beauty, but he saw that she moved her hands out in front of her. He called, "Don't dive in!" catching her in time. She stopped as he scolded, "Never dive into unknown waters. It's too shallow there."
"Is it cold?"
"Only a little at first." he replied coaxingly. "Come on in."
She stepped into the water and gave a muted shriek. Their sounds were magnified by the water and carried in the still summer night.
She took another step and inhaled sharply. "A little cool?"
"Don't just stand there! Swim! You'll warm up quickly then. Or I'll warm you up," he teased.
She leaned forward in a shallow dive and swam strongly to the surface, blew and laughed. They played in the moonlight, avoiding the muddy bottom, and not going far from shore. He kept a close eye on her, for isolated swimming can be very dangerous.
They warmed, playing, and as they rested, squatting in the shallows, he coaxed her to stand up. "I want to see my water nymph."
She protested, but he cajoled so well that she divided her hair and pulled it forward so that it covered her breasts. She stood up in the water, which came halfway up her hips. It was the boldest thing she'd ever done in all her life. She reached her hands to smooth her hair over her breasts as she laughed up and started up from the water.
That's when the camera flash shattered the night.
This chapter was hard to write with the ban and all. Not that I think this is NC-17 stuff. I'm not good with graphic scenes although I can write fairly good fluffy ones. Still, I feel that this chapter was cannibalized (by me). Anyway, tell me what you think about it. Onegaishimasu!