Georgia's English Rose (7 page)

“Lovely,” I said, and Georgia grinned.

As soon as we were alone Georgia turned and
kissed me, her tongue seeking its way into my mouth and I returned
the kiss, growing instantly wet between my legs.

I pushed her away, laughing. “Good grief,
Georgia, at least let me have my tea first.”

Georgia laughed. “That’s so very English,
Lil. But you taste better than tea. Much better.” But she let me
crawl to the bottom of the bed and pour tea into our cups.

I was aware of my bottom sticking up and
knew Georgia would be studying me. I hoped I wasn’t a
disappointment. My backside might seem a little skinny in
comparison to hers, but she
had
said she loved me. My
stomach filled with butterflies as I remembered her words.

I handed a cup to Georgia and sat back
against the pillows, crossing my ankles as I sipped the too hot
tea.

“What have you got planned for today,
Lil?”

“Nothing at all,” I said. “You don’t want to
do anything special, do you? I thought I might show you some of the
farm, and there’s a nice walk down by the river.”

“Suits me, honey,” Georgia said, pulling a
face as she sipped her tea. I knew she would prefer coffee, but
that wasn’t an option anymore. “It’s great to be able to kick back
and not have to think about anything. Great to be able to sleep
next to you, sweet thing.”

I felt myself blushing. Even after last
night I couldn’t quite believe what we had done, couldn’t quite
believe Georgia liked me that way.

Mummy must have been saving eggs and bacon
for weeks for our breakfast, and I was glad Georgia showed her
appreciation. Afterward we were sent packing with sandwiches and a
flask for lunch. I pulled on my old Wellington boots and Georgia
discovered Mummy’s fit her so we stomped off across the fields, an
odd sight in our summer dresses and boots almost to our knees, as I
led the way up the low rise behind the house. From the top Georgia
would see almost all of the farm.

As soon as we were out of sight of the house
Georgia’s hand searched for mine and I smiled, a warm glow settling
in my chest.

A narrow copse grew along the shallow ridge
above the house. We stopped where a clearing in the trees presented
a view across the rolling farmland beyond our own. In the distance
the tall spire of the village church rose into the sky. Hardly a
sound broke the stillness, no tractor, no car, only a faint
soughing of wind in the treetops. As we followed the ridge I
pointed out where our farmland stretched to, pointed to another
line of trees that wound through the far valley floor.

“That’s the river. I thought we might walk
through the woods up here then drop down and go along the
riverbank.”

“Sounds neat,” Georgia said, and kissed me
quickly.

I glanced around, blushing. We were out in
the open, but no one was likely to discover us. Even so I felt
wicked.

The ridge stretched for over a mile and then
we walked downhill on a track that curved back toward the village.
The sun was hot as we moved from beneath the shelter of the wood.
We walked side by side along an old pathway, moving away from our
farm. I knew this track well and Georgia walked beside me, for once
having nothing to say. We continued holding hands, our palms
growing sweaty as the warmth caused us to glow.

We might have believed ourselves alone in
the world until a droning sound made us stop and shade our eyes.
Far to the south specks in the sky trailed exhaust fumes. German
bombers, making their way toward Coventry or Reading, perhaps. We
stood in a field of green wheat starting to turn gold and watched
as other, smaller shapes pursued the bombers. Fighters. The
airplanes were too far to hear much but now and again the rattle of
gunfire came to us. The fighters swooped and dived, twisting
between the bombers and as we watched one plane gouted dark smoke
which trailed behind as it began to lose height. We watched the
plane sink lower and lower, but it dropped from sight and even
though we listened we heard no explosion. The bombers droned on and
disappeared, the fighters weaving in pursuit.

“I’d almost forgotten we were fighting a
war,” Georgia said.

“Me too.”

We walked on for a while before I said,
“That might be Michael next week.”

Georgia squeezed my hand. “He’ll be fine,
Lil, I know he’ll be fine.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

We were both sweating by the time the path
swung all the way around and re-entered the shade of the lower
wood. The track was deeper here, worn down by centuries of cattle
making their way for milking, lined with hawthorn bushes and the
remains of stone walls showing in places where the old drover’s
track ran. Georgia took my hand again. After a while we heard the
sound of running water, then turned a bend and the river was below
us.

Georgia caught her breath and said, “Lil,
it’s gorgeous.”

I had brought her this way deliberately,
knowing this presented the best view of the river. To the right a
small run rippled fast over gravel, opening into a wide, deep pool.
On the far bank willows arched over the water, their branches
dipping as though drinking from the stream. On the near side old
oak, beech and elm framed a small clearing which sloped to a
shingle bank. The pool stretched to our left until the river turned
into another run. Dotted over the smooth surface dimples showed
where trout rose for insects.

“I thought we could eat our picnic here,” I
said.

“Great idea, Lil. I’m hungry now, too. I
didn’t think I’d want to eat all day after that breakfast, but I’m
starving.”

“I’d better feed you up then,” I said. “I
don’t want you losing any weight from… well, you know where,” I
said, rolling my eyes and glancing down to take in her
cleavage.

Georgia stared at me and burst out laughing.
“Lil, I do believe you made a joke! Oh my God, there’s hope for you
yet.”

I blushed and went on ahead, opened the
canvas shoulder bag and pulled out sandwiches and the flask of
tea.

“Which do you want, Georgia?” I asked.
“There’s ham and cheese, or beef and mustard.” I held a sandwich in
each hand and watched as she strode down toward me, the hem of her
dress swinging as she kicked her legs, a narrow band of skin
showing above her wellington boots.

“Don’t care,” she said, sitting down and
pulling her boots off. “God, my feet are so hot! I’m gonna put my
toes in the water. But first,” she turned to me, grabbed my arm and
tugged me toward her. I squealed and dropped both sandwiches onto
the grass. Unbalanced, I landed on my side and Georgia pushed me
flat and lay across me. Her mouth met mine, her tongue probed and
her hand closed over my breast. When she broke for air I gazed into
her gorgeous face and knew there was no one else for me.

“Never mind lunch,” she said softly. “These
lips are all I need.” Her words so echoed my own thoughts a tremor
ran all the way through me.

Georgia broke the mood as she rose, tucked
her dress into her panties and waded into the water.

“It’s cold!” she squealed. “Come on, Lil,
come and give it a try.”

I picked up the sandwiches, which still
looked edible, and wrapped them back in brown paper. I kicked my
boots off, pulled my dress up and followed her. Round stones moved
beneath my feet and minnows came exploring whenever I stood still,
tickling at my toes. We giggled and splashed until our legs became
painfully cold, then climbed out and ate half our sandwiches,
leaving our dresses tucked up as our legs dried. I poured tea and
we shared the single mug.

Sunlight filtered through the trees and
shimmered on the bank of grass. A kingfisher flashed, traveling
downstream like a bright arrow. Fish dimpled rings on the surface
and we lay back and looked up at the leaves rustling above us. The
grass bank formed a small hollowed cradle where we sat, sheltering
us on both sides. I had slept little the night before, too
enraptured by the presence of Georgia lying next to me, and I
closed my eyes and dozed.  I don’t know for how long, but some
time later I became aware of Georgia leaning over me. She had her
hand on my thigh, stroking me, and when my eyes opened she kissed
me suddenly, making me gasp.

“I’ve been a naughty girl, Lil,” she said,
“Look what I’ve done.” She showed me her panties in her hand before
tossing them on the grass.

“What if someone comes, Georgia?” I
said.

“Who’s to know, honey? I still got my dress
on. Try it, Lil. It feels so wicked. There’s a breeze blowing right
up onto my pussy.” She gave a little shiver of delight. “Come on,
honey, slip ’em off and join me.”

I looked around. We were probably safe
enough. The river ran through our land and it was unlikely anyone
would come along. Besides, we would almost certainly hear someone
if they approached.

Georgia looked at me and grinned. “You’re
gonna do it, ain’t ya?”

I grinned and nodded, reached under my dress
and tugged my panties down. I noticed a small damp patch on them I
tried to turn under so Georgia wouldn’t see before I dropped them
next to hers.

Georgia lay back and lifted her knees,
drawing the hem of her dress up with her fingers.

“Try this, Lil,” she said. “There’s a breeze
coming off the water. It’s positively indecent.”

I lay beside her and pulled my dress up. I
felt it immediately, a cool drift of air tickling inside my thighs.
It gusted and my pubic hair ruffled, the breeze kissing my pussy
lips.

“Good?” Georgia said, looking across at
me.

I nodded.

“Wicked, ain’t it?”

I nodded again and grinned.

“Does anyone ever come this way, Lil?”

“Sometimes,” I said. “Not often, but
sometimes.”

“Damn. I was thinking of stripping off and
going skinny dipping. Or even just stripping off and
sunbathing.”

“Naked?” I said. “That might be a little too
risky.”

“Ah well…” She rolled onto her belly and
wriggled until her head was level with my thighs. She lifted my
dress, openly looking at me. “In that case, I’ll have to feast my
eyes on this gorgeous vision of womanhood.”

“Georgia!” I gasped, shocked.

“What, honey? You know you want me to.”

I was flustered. Yes, I did want her to. But
out here, where anyone passing might see?

She ran the back of her finger up my thigh
almost to the top, teasing me, but before reaching where I wanted
her to go her hand slid away. She lifted herself and pulled her
dress up until it was around her waist. The pale globes of her
backside shimmered in the light.

“Ooh, this feels so wicked, Lil,” she said
as she squirmed her bare belly against the grass.

She pulled my dress up further and I lay on
the grass and let her. My dress was, like hers, above my waist now
and my tawny red patch caught the breeze. Georgia slid her hand up
again, lightly brushed my outer lips and then ran her fingers
through my pubic hair.

“You got a nice bush, Lil. Real nice.”

“I like yours too, Georgia,” I said,
although I hadn’t really seen hers in the way she was now studying
mine.

“Yeah? I always think I’m too hairy. But
you’re so fine, so light. If I blow like this, look,” and she
wriggled up, pursed her lips and blew on me. I felt air against my
pussy, ruffling my bush. “See, it ripples. If you did that to me I
don’t suppose mine would even move.”

“Oh, it might,” I said.

“You think? You wanna try, Lil?”

“Blowing on you?”

“Yeah. Go on, I don’t mind, as long as you
don’t. Though I guess you might not like getting so close to my
pussy. I hadn’t thought about that. I like being close to
yours.”

“I don’t mind,” I said quickly, and as
though in a dream Georgia turned around so her belly was near my
head. She lay on her side and I rolled a little until we faced each
other like a pair of bookends.

“There ya go, Lil,” she said. “Give it a
little blow. See what happens.”

I puckered and blew directly onto her patch
of pubic hair. It moved. Georgia wasn’t being completely honest.
Her bush was jet black, almost as fine as mine, perhaps a little
wilder but not by much. One or two hairs strayed down between her
thighs, but the pink slit of her pussy was clearly exposed. I was
sure I could smell her scent and it made my head spin.

“You’re real nice down there,” I said,
realizing I sounded like Georgia. Perhaps her accent was starting
to rub off on me.

“You think?”

I nodded. “I do. It’s lovely.”

“I read about how some girls shave down
there.”

“All of it?” I said. “Prossies, I bet.
They’d have to be.”

“No, girls like you and me. Girls who like
other girls. Like we do.”

“How do you know so much, Georgia?”

“Just clever, I guess.” She smiled.

“I don’t want you to shave yours off,” I
said. “I like you as you are.”

“Yeah? Okay then, I won’t shave anything
off, not unless you ask me to. And I like yours fine too, Lil. Just
fine.”

Then Georgia did the same thing as last
night. She pushed me onto my back, leaned over and kissed me at the
top of my bush, her mouth half on my belly, half on my silky hair.
Her hand lay against my leg, high up on my thigh, and I willed her
to move higher still. Slowly, very slowly, she did.

I put my hand on Georgia’s bush and stroked
it, loving the soft silk of the hair growing there. Her big
clitoris was showing, having grown hard, and stuck out above the
opening of her pussy. I smelled the aroma of sex coming strongly
from her, enchanting me.

I leaned over and kissed her on her belly,
went lower, kissing the patch of pubic hair.

“Whoo,” Georgia said, her breath brushing my
skin. “That sure feels good.”

I ran my fingers through the silky dark hair
at the base of her belly, let them slip down until I pressed
against the hard nub of her clitoris and she shivered at my
finger’s touch. Georgia touched me too, between my legs, opened me
and dipped inside and I closed my eyes as her fingers pressed
deeper.